#this will get linked to my masterpost for writing a blind character I think

[wangxianficfinder]

Non-Ao3 fics part 2 (part 1)

@nonao3ficrecs for more non-ao3 fics

~*~

Tumblr

~*~

《WITHOUT ENVY》 by drwcn (cql au: concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj)

Shattered Mirrors master post by besanii (WangXian, courtesan!WWX x prince!LWJ, No Cultivation AU, Angst and Fluff, according to author: If you are on mobile, you will need to open the link in a separate browser)

rebuttable presumption by sarah-yyy (WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Hurt LWJ, Enemies to Lovers)

wilful blindness by sarah-yyy (WangXian, Modern AU, Misunderstandings, LWJ thinks he's dating/married to WWX, WWX thinks he's just working for LWJ and marrying him as a business strategy, brief separation)

Lady Mo by shanastoryteller (WangXian, WWX gets revived as Female!MXY)

WWX and JYL run away by shanastoryteller (WangXian, XuanLi, JYL and JZX lives, JYL and WWX raise JL and LSZ, Fake Character Death)

WWX, LXC, and NMJ are friends by shanastoryteller (WangXian, Modern AU, School AU, what if WWX was friends with LXC first)

JL overhears an argument by vrishchikawrites (JL & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, JL overhears JC and WWX arguing about xuanwu cave/WWX saving LWJ and JZX, hurt/comfort)

Discussion conference as Met Gala by liverbiver9 (NHS & WWX, implied WangXian, NHS & WWX critique outfits during a discussion conference)

Little Apple (Demon) by misscellophane-ao3 (WangXian, Modern AU, little apple as a haunted stuffed animal who loves apples)

Ice skating AU by twenty-orange-balloons (misscellophane-ao3) (WangXian, Modern AU, Ice Skater LWJ, LWJ POV, WWX explains why he quit ice skating, Not Madam Yu Friendly)

LWJ and A-Yuan go trick or treating at WWX's by twenty-orange-balloons (misscellophane-ao3) (WangXian, Modern AU, Halloween fic, Fluff, Rumors, Single Parent LWJ)

Canon div where 16yo LWJ does go to Lotus Pier. by ronniexian (WangXian, Canon Divergence, Not Madam Yu Friendly, LWJ gets hit with zidian, Arranged Marriage, Love Confessions, Getting Together)

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday by baoshan-sanren (WangXian, NieLan, Emperor WWX AU, arranged marriage au)

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Other

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and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow by izanyas (E, 303k, ABO, MIND THE WARNINGS: off-screen rape, oppression, violence, sexual assault, grief/mourning, unwanted pregnancy)

Spookykingdomstarlight's fics are all here (including show me a quiver)

~*~

Master Posts Of Tumblr Authors

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ShanaStoryteller’s Prompt Answers Masterlist U - Z by shanastoryteller

The 3 emoji prompts masterpost - monthly event by mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess

First Writing Masterpost by mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess

Second Writing Masterpost by mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess

[vsnotresponding]

untitled project playlists masterpost part 1

by yours truly

spoilers ahead if you care (? you’ll probably forget about them by the time i actually write UP so there’s that. anyways

before the wall of text that will surely follow this, a note about how the playlists are organized:

the playlists are as follows (linked for your enjoyment):

untitled project

up: book 1

up: book 2 & 3

up: book 4

up: book 5

B1 B4 and B5 playlists have the same structure: vibe/mood songs for the particular book followed by the songs in chronological order as they relate to the plot (B1 only has plot songs)

B2 & 3 has literally just 2 songs about the respective plot

untitled project is a playlist that has the songs by character (ely, lyric and the first lost soul) and then some vibe/mood songs for the story as a whole

i’ll make 3 separate posts (you are on the first one, congrats!)

playlists for B1, 2&3

playlists for B4, 5

playlist for the vibes

so let’s go, shall we?

BOOK 1

book 1 is all about how ely went from being a trapped child to the eternal master of death itself. cover is the background of an ely drawing i did in 2021

Dream Girl - Idina Menzel

teen!ely’s angst as they feel more and more trapped in their village. the wolf they befriended as a child is getting hunted and the situation at home is not great (their parents want them to marry)

This treasure you found bury it The only way out marry it That shadow of doubt carry it Carry it down to your grave

sorrow aka the wolf is the treasure they found, and they carry their shadow (influence) wherever they go. they will indeed carry it to their grave.

Don't be sentimental Some legends are born in the wrong timе

literal line

Requiem - Laura Dreyfuss

so teen!ely dies trying to protect the wolf they befriended, only, they wake up. they are not dead or alive. a ghost maybe? they don’t know. they don’t want to mourn their life, they hated it, all of it. death has brought them freedom, life and their future in that village only had hell waiting for them

so they don’t mourn

and they forget

No one lights a candle to remember No, no one mourns at all

why should i say i’ll keep you with me? why should i go and fall apart for you?

they keep seeing a ghost of their past, when they were a child. and they hate them

The Calling - The Amazing Devil

forget all but one thing. something calls to them, like a memory. red eyes, ocean hair, a war and an underwater grave and, maybe, something else too

That light I thought was blinding brought me here

eternity and their newfound power are overwhelming to them at first, but they learn to follow where it leads them

I look into the waters and see a face I don’t recognise Who’s this (Who are you)

still don’t know who they are, or who they were

And when that fox howls I’ll howl with it In its cries I’ll find an end And when I think I’m fine you’ll visit And then you happen to me, you happen to me all over again

they keep being brought back to their past life, to their ghost, but they can’t recognize it

Dear Wormwood - The Oh Hellos

until they do. they remember. him, yes. and them, themselves. ely, their name, their life

I have always known you You have always been there in my mind But now I understand you

let’s ignore where it says “and i will not be a part of your designs”, but yeah understanding what sorrow really embodies, what eternity really is, is what they lacked before they could master it

I know who I am now And all that you've made of me I know who you are now And I name you my enemy

leaving the enemy part even if ely doesn’t resent sorrow for what they did. ely's ready to face eternity

Caesar - The Oh Hellos

ely finds sorrow. like the first time they met him. cold air, winter fading. they’ve already seen the war, and History. and him. the messiah.

“tell me how to save him.”

Peace - Shayfer James

but someone got left behind. the first lost soul. not a mindless monster, not a bloodthirsty ghost. just a scared and forgotten child. a piece of ely’s soul

I'd rather live alone than live a lie I will never deserve peace

the girl that hunts the narrative is here <3

BOOK 2 & 3

childhood and teens of hannah, akira and lyric. cover is my “god always lies” piece, with hannah holding a torch inside sorrow’s church (she wrote “god always lies” on the statue”)

Dear God - XTC

hannah’s song! her book is called God Always Lies, bold words for someone who has met god (technically). she’s a priestess that doesn’t believe in destiny, because their dreams are broken and so must destiny too.

And all the people that you made in your image Still believing that junk is true

pretty straightforward

That my heart's here upon my sleeve If there's one thing, I don't believe in It’s you Dear God

God’s Whisper - Raury

i’m just gonna:

I hear God's whisper Calling my name It's in the wind I am the savior

yeah a teen lyric song

so yeah, any questions are welcome and such

[mimzy-writing-online]

Why I’m Blind and What I See

Someone asked: “How can you have functional color vision but not functional other types of vision? Does the color not create a sense of depth? Genuine question not trying to be rude or anything - sorry if it came off like that :/“

I would like to say that they’re not being rude (at least, not for me) because blindness is something I enjoy talking about and this blog exists to educate.

The question was first raised in someone else’s post asking for advice writing a colorblind character. However color perception is one of the few things my vision performs well in, and upon commenting on this in my tags, someone asked the question above. By the time I finished writing my answer it was quite long and to avoid hijacking OP’s post as well as make this accessible for everyone to read, I decided to make this its own post.

You can find OP’s post here asking how to write colorblind characters

So in this post I explain some reasons why someone might be blind but still have some functioning color vision, and then I discuss the three main causes of my blindness and how that personally affects me.

In the retina you have two kinds of photoreceptor cells: rod and cone cells. 

Cone cells pick up light from within the visible color spectrum while rod cells pick up light outside that spectrum. Cone cells have a higher population density in the center of your retina, making them responsible for your central vision. Cone cells pick up details of visual acuity. They work best in good lighting. 

Rod cells are responsible for your night vision because they perceive lower levels of light. Their population density is higher in the peripheral edges of your retina and makes up the majority of your peripheral vision. They are particularly good at tracking movement.

Of cone cells, there are two kinds of cells, one which manages red and green light perception, and one which manages yellow and blue light perception. Together they manage the full spectrum of color in between. There are a whole host of retina conditions one can experience but they all work differently and begin differently. For example, retinitis pigmentosa begins affecting the peripheral vision first, leading to tunnel vision. Macular degeneration affects the central vision first. The conditions experience different symptoms but there is overlap.

As for me personally, there are three major factors to my vision loss, but the primary cause is neurological.

I am nearsighted (myopia) and I experience exotropia. My exotropia is caused by weakened muscles around my eyes and for this reason my eyes don’t line up correctly and instead focus slightly outward, causing double vision. In my case it appears rather slight in that they only slightly don’t line up, so most people never notice. It doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with my eyes unless you actually test it. The problem is that everything I see comes in two images that partially overlap rather than separating into two separate images with one in higher focus than the other. So imagine two Rs or two Us that are overlapping horizontally and why that might make reading an eye chart more difficult.

The problem was first discovered when I was 19 in an eye exam when my optometrist covered one eye and observed how my uncovered eye jumped slightly inward. Covering the other eye, it did the same. With special prisms in my glasses it forces and enables my eyes to work together better. However, I am very susceptible to eye strain from those weaker muscles. Exotropia also compromises my depth perception so that without correction I cannot see anything beyond thirty feet. A building thirty feet away from me and a mountain on the horizon look the same distance to me. Everything within that thirty feet is still slightly altered and inaccurate, but more manageable.

The primary cause of my vision loss however is a neurological condition called visual snow (or called snow vision sometimes). What’s happening is that my brain is processing the information my eyes have given me and decided that’s not enough and decided to add extra stimulation in the form of static. Imagine an old TV with a low quality screen that has a slight bit of static overlapping the image. That’s me on a good day, and then on my worst days it’s more like that TV has been left on with nothing to play and all I see is black and white static.

That static doesn’t actually exist, and yet I always see it. Because it depends on visual stimulation in my brain, it’s more active in lower lighting with more noticeable static that is blue instead of black and grey, where each grain is much larger than normal and the density of the static is higher and moving at a faster rate.

Because of the static I perform at 20/70 or worse on eye charts, and that is at my absolute best in both situational lighting and day to day health.

A diagnosis is very difficult to get. Because it’s neurological, the cause doesn’t show up in eye exams like cataracts, glaucoma, retina degeneration, and detached optic nerves do. Nor does it show up on brain imaging scans such as MRIs as studies have shown.

To be diagnosed with visual snow, you must experience visual static for three months without it being associated with migraines and experience at least two out of five sub-symptoms. Here is a link to learn more about symptoms.

I experience all five of those symptoms but my most severe is photophobia or light sensitivity. My brain is over processing light at an exponential rate to the point that I experience severe pain in bright lighting. Because of this, my day time vision looks like a white field with shapes and little more. This is day blindness and to manage it I wear extra dark sunglasses. Unfortunately I can’t have both visual correction and extra dark lenses, so I have to choose between debilitating pain and nothing but white fields with moving shapes, or no correction and mild pain with my visual field being more grey and black from the lenses with some shape and movement perception.

So indoor lighting is the absolute best for my vision, and therefore why I perform as visually impaired and not legally blind in eye exams. 20/70 with static interference and mild pain from light sources is the best I’ll ever get. Outside of that, in both daytime lighting and night time, I am beyond legally blind. But by legal law, the best situation and best correction is what my blindness will be measured at, not my how it impacts my daily living.

For that reason using technology, reading indoors, playing video games, and perceiving color are still things I can experience. But my depth perception, my light sensitivity, my visual acuity is still fucked. Because the cause is primarily neurological, the only tests I perform well on are medical imaging of my brain or eyes, and my color perception.

So that is more or less what I see and why I see it. If you have questions you can ask either in the comments or in my asks inbox.

This blog is dedicated to educating about blindness and how to write accurate blind characters. Included is other writing advice, writing memes with image descriptions, more specific asks raised on the subject, advice about school, and talking about mental health and disabilities outside of blindness.

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2020 - Updated

Welcome to Whumptober 2020! We’re doing things a little differently this year so please make sure to read the Event Info carefully. We are also excited to announce the addition of an AO3 Collection, which can be found here.

We hope you’re as excited as us to watch the Whump Community come together once again for a month of bone-crunching creativity and collaboration!

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

No 1. LET'S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY  "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

No 6. PLEASE.... "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, please"

No 7. I'VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD "Take Me Instead" | "Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

No 12. I THINK I'VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor's Guilt

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD... Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

No 27. OK, WHO HAD NATURAL DISASTERS ON THEIR 2020 BINGO CARD? Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

Alternate Prompt List

Alt 1. Punctured

Alt 2. Falling

Alt 3. Comfort

Alt 4. Stitches

Alt 5. Stoic Whumpees

Alt 6. Altered States

Alt 7. Found Family

Alt 8. Adverse Reactions

Alt 9. Memory Loss

Alt 10. Nightmares

Alt 11. Presumed Dead

Alt. 12. Water

Alt. 13 Accidents

Alt. 14 Shot

Alt. 15 Carry/Support

Event Info

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 Official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don't have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, and photo/video/audio edits. Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2020 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruised, #stabbed,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)

#nsfw, #nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober2020​ blog. They must be tagged in the order above.

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.

Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well.

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gif set or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)

Q. Do I have to do all 31 Days? Can I post early/late?

Participate as much or little as you like, and post whenever! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.11, #psych101). Combining prompts into one piece of work is okay, and posting late is as well so as long as it’s in October.

Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help clarify. That said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :)

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)

Q. Can I upload/repost my whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. The archive can be accessed here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters answering one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes,  but it only counts once

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day's prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

Yes, but please do not use a specific prompt twice. We have also created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from [here].

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?

Of course!

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What's whump?

See this post

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn't whumpy at all, does that count?

No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time”.

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. emeto tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the whumptober2020 tag

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, just be sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies of whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

[kahin]

Accessibility masterpost

Lately, it's been nice to see a bunch of people starting to transcribe their works so I've decided to compile a bunch of things that I know about accessibility!

Image, Video, and Gif Descriptions:

A form of accessibility that transcribes all forms of images, gifs, and videos for people on the vision-blindness spectrum!

If you can't transcribe images yet or haven't quite learned how then try looking for one in the notes of the post or check the post for alt text.

The main starter for image descriptions is "[Gif/Video/Image Description:" and then describing the main details in the image.

Some examples:

[Image Description: a screenshot from The Great Ace Attorney, showing Ryuunosuke hunched over and sweating worriedly behind the defence desk. He thinks to himself, "(I can't understand a word that old man is saying...)." End Image Description.]

[ID: a post by maamlet that reads, "not trying to be rude but i love posts on here where i learn a completely new thing that immediately gets refuted in the same post. net zero information." End ID.]

Do not write your IDs in italics, coloured font, or small print as not everyone uses screen readers, and it may make it difficult for them to read; Don't put them under a cut, and don't use subjective language whilst writing them too! Doing so only makes disabled people go through hoops once again just so they can get accessibility.

Another note is that, yes, even things you don't like or agree with should still be transcribed. Some links!!:

Why you shouldn't put IDs under a cut, or use subjective language, and some more accessibility links! And here is another one detailing more on image descriptions.

Alt-Text:

Another kind of image/video/gif description, however, is only visible to screen readers! When writing alt text, make sure it's concise and short, and don't put in "ID: an image of x. End ID." since it's going to be read out as, "Image: ID: an image of x. End ID." An example:

How the alt text should read: [Image: a solid light pink banner.]

Plain text:

For posts written in italics, in small print, in leetspeak, or in a certain colour! They can be extremely difficult and straining to read. Writing them is extremely simple. For example:

I could listen to this song for hours

[Plain text: "I could listen to this song for hours."]

Another example!:

This is my favourite character!

[Plain text: "This is my favourite character!"]

Trigger Tags:

Mainly self-explanatory. Tag basic and more common triggers (like blood, violence, war, unreality, etc), and also less common triggers as well (if asked I think!). Some other things I can think of is tagging videos with no sound as "soundless," as some videos with no sounds may be paranoia-inducing (particularly to HOH/deaf people from what I've heard).

TLDRs:

People learning English or ADHD havers (etc etc) may struggle to read long paragraphs worth of text. Adding a TL;DR can be a bit difficult, but you only need to grab the main focus of the long post, and maybe along with some additional details.

Eyestrain/Flashing tags:

Self-explanatory. Tag flashing gifs or videos with "tw eyestrain" or "tw flashing." Aside from that, having blog themes that don't cause eyestrain (such as having a bright red theme with white text, or having very bright themes in general!).

Tone Indicators:

Most of us know that they are, but for those who don't: they're meant to convey tone for neurodivergent people mainly or people who may have trouble picking up on tone through text! Here's a carrd that has a lot more information, and can probably explain a lot more.

[therealvinelle]

how did breaking dawn movie live up to the book? good or bad?

The words "live up to" implies I had expectations for the movie. I very much did not. Twilight is a hard series to adapt, period, but Breaking Dawn was severely limited by having the actors already cast, the characters already changed from who they were in the books in previous movies, and following movies that had, for lack of a nicer way to put it, sucked(look up my books vs. movies tag or the Twilight movies masterpost where I explain what I mean by these things. Afraid I’m too lazy to dig up all the links at the moment). I don't think Bill Condon did a good job, but I don't think he had much to work with either.

This was a book that wasn't being adapted for its plot, or because anyone had a vision for it, but as a cash grab. Breaking Dawn existed because fans wanted to see what happens next in Edward and Bella's story, and that doomed it. It was even split into two films, with so much of each being spent on pure filler that I can only conclude it should have been one movie. (Or an animated miniseries. Alas.)

I'll put it this way - there's a reason you don't usually see movies spend upwards of 40 minutes on a wedding, with the events of this wedding having no bearing on the plot whatsoever. The character of Irina is introduced, but her momentary cameo does not justify this film showing us Bella's wedding jitters, the Cullens doing wedding decor, the wedding itself, the trip to the honeymoon destination, a detour on the trip to the honeymoon, the honeymoon itself, both the wedding night and then the honeymoon scuba diving that follows, and then more wedding night fun times.

Just-

There's indulging in a little filler, and then there is what Breaking Dawn Part 1 did.

Breaking Dawn Part 2 was not much better, I won't go into detail especially as I've already explained in this post here most of my issues with that film already. In short, it cared so little for the story it was telling that it settled for throwing disjointed scenes at the wall and called it a movie.

Breaking Dawn the book has a plot. Bella gets pregnant with a hybrid child, she dies in childbirth but is reborn a vampire. The inhuman child is then mistaken for an immortal child, forcing a confrontation between the Cullens and the Volturi.

There's other plot lines and scenes but most of them could be cut. I would for instance cut Jacob from the movie entirely. With him the whole Sam vs. Jacob arc (It's my humble opinion that if you're going to do an arc where a gang of Native American men intend to violently murder a pregnant white woman, you either don't do it or you write it really fucking well.) and the "it's not grooming if- no, actually, it's grooming" Jacob/Renesmée storyline are goners, and the movie is much better for it. Jacob obsessing over a toddler adds nothing to the story, even if it didn't bring such uncomfortable connotations it still should have gone (yes, this is a criticism of Meyer's book as well. Her editor didn't put their foot down, that sucks, but that doesn't mean the movie had make the same mistakes).

Twilight should have been an animated miniseries, but failing that I would have liked a director who cared about the story he was telling and who knew how to kill his darlings, because sometimes you should in fact cut the whole wedding, major plot arcs, and one of the three major characters.

There are other things which made the Breaking Dawn movies bad beyond the writing, namely the casting, the acting, and the effects, but they apply for all the Twilight movies.

I have faith that a very good director, given creative freedom, could have delivered a good film adaption of Breaking Dawn. Singular, not two movies.

I'm the kind of gal who applauds when an adaption isn't blindly faithful to the source material, because blind faithfulness is not what adaptations are about. Sometimes bad or unnecessary changes are made, yes, giving book-to-film changes everywhere a bad name, but on the whole you should look at the spirit of the source material and how it translates to the media you're adapting to rather than adapting word-for-word.

I find it comparable to translating from one language to another. A direct translation gives Google translate results. Some things have to change.

(For those who don't believe me: Blade Runner is nearly unrecognizable from its Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, but the book was never going to be easy to adapt so the movie decided to adapt the ideas conveyed in it(also I'm just gonna link this scene because it's so good). HBO's His Dark Materials recognizes the live action version can't just be Lyra's point of view the way the book was, and expands itself accordingly.)

[keenmarvellover]

POSTS FOR YOU - 1

Some links to posts with valuable content you want in one place.(BASICALLY EVERYTHING IS THERE)

Suggestions and Recommendations are appreciated and accepted.

Last Updated : 16/10/2020

NOTE: Some of these post are written in a crude and unruly fashion. But they contain valuable tips, guidance and information. If you can't/don't want to read such posts, then don't read.

Mental Health

Do you need a Hug?

Maybe you’re having a stressful day. Maybe you just need a deep breath. Maybe you just didn’t realize how stressed you are. You can get your comfort here.

Some stuff to help you sleep

This is definitely not a google drive full of the sleep stuff from the Headspace app, including sleepcasts, music, and wind down meditation, that normally costs 17.99 a month, no siree and you definitely shouldnt share this with people

Anti-Anxiety Tools

Some tools to help you before, during or after an anxiety attack

100 Reasons NOT To Kill Yourself

READ IT. SHARE IT. REBLOG IT. Save a Life.

HOBBIES MASTERPOST!!!!!!!!

A really excellent way to reduce anxiety is to pick up a new hobby. Find something you’re interested in, learn it, then use it as a healthy and productive way to cope.

Health

Some very Important Lists for Rating PAIN, FATIQUE AND MENTAL HEALTH

It is MUST share

PSA Rregarding Hospital bills

Also how to pay hospital bills when you are broke.

How to differentiate between COVID-19, FLU AND COMMON COLD

Anyway, as we enter cold & flu season in the YEAR of corona, this will come in very handy.

Treatment for HIV

VERY IMPORTANT. Please Read and Share.

What does the Color of your Period mean?

A must read for individuals who get periods.

How to differentiate between Period Cramps and Appendicitis

A MUST READ

From a Person who is Hard of Hearing

Types and levels of deafness

General Tips for Vagina Health

Some stuff they don't teach in sex-ed.

Undo the damage of Sitting

Are you always sitting down? Then these are some exercise you should probably try out for better health.

Guide to Proper Bra Fitting

Guide to Proper Bra Fit and Measuring. Please Read and Share.

Washable, Reusable Menstrual Pads

(Part II)

Reusable menstrual hygiene product, and are an alternative to disposable sanitary napkins or to menstrual cups.

Artists

Art Masterpost

How to draw *insert whatever you want, its there in the list*?

Book Binding

Some video links to different types of DIY Bookbinding

For Artists who Need Photoshop

If youre an artist who cant afford photoshop, definitely DO NOT go to this google drive to pirate the program, that would be so bad!!!

Do’s and Don'ts of Designing for Accessibility

Please consider this when designing for ANYTHING. For BUSINESSES and ARTISTS.

Writers

Color Synonyms

For both ARTISTS and WRITERS

How to make a Masterlist

Simple but efficient instructions to make a masterlist

ULTIMATE NOVEL WRITING RESOURCE MASTERLIST

This is an ultimate masterlist of many resources that could be helpful for writers.

List of AUs and Ship Tropes

For when you run out of ideas.

AUs

Ship Tropes

Legal sites to get some much needed Info

If there was only a way to find out all of this rather edgy information without getting yourself in trouble…

Resources for Describing Characters

For writing about physical appearances, character traits, talents,and skills and other related stuff of your characters, here is a comprehensive list.

Resources for Describing Emotions

Having trouble writing jealousy, happiness, motivation. Here you go!!

Some Resources for your Writing

Body Language

Reverse Dictionary

Character Traits

Things to Keep in mind when naming Characters

Valuable advice. Trust me

Words to Use when Writing Smut/Romance

This is for smut/romance writers. Kinda like a thesaurus.

Tips to write Pain

How are you supposed to write about pain you’ve never experienced before?

References for Greek Mythology Characters

Link to an extensive site every single detail of Greek Mythology from Gods to Family Trees.

Tips to write Blind Characters

Some tips that might be invaluable when writing character that are near-blind or blind

Things to Remember when writing a Highly Emotional Scene

Just small things that could make a great difference

How to write with Multiple POVs

Tips on how to write multiple POVs with diverse characters

Synonyms and Antonyms

The person who made this list is a blessing to writers. Just saying.

Good Qualities for Female Characters

Females don't always need to be protected and be weak. Make them more realistic.

Words to Use instead of ‘Said’

Every single situation is listed. Check it out.

Limits of the Human Body

All extremities listed

Readers

Legal Sites to Download Literature

From children’s books to rare books, from philosophy and religion to nonfiction. I guess you can find anything here.

The Rights of the Reader

And some (lots of) bashing of Helicopter Parents.(You want to read only the rights. Here it is)

Wet Book Rescue : Steps to save a Wet Book

Valuable information if some of your prized books were affected by recent flooding. The video even shows you what to do if you can’t dry the book out right away.

Cheatsheet to Navigate AO3

Makes your time on AO3 a little more easier and interesting

How to trick Writers into giving you More Fanfic to read

Works for Comics and Art as well.

Get a Book Suggestion

This book website gives you the first page of a random book without the title or author so that you can read it with no preconceptions

Books written by POC Writers

Only POC authors included in the list.

Students

Basic ASL (American Sign Language) Movements

ASL Hand Movements for beginners.

Tips for studying with ADHD/a>

Made by a person with ADHD themself.

Resources to Learn New Languages

Ten fairly useful general language resources

How to properly take notes

It helps. It really helps.

FREE ONLINE LANGUAGE COURSES

Here is a masterpost of MOOCs (massive open online courses) that are available, archived, or starting soon. I think they will help those that like to learn with a teacher or with videos.

A Thread of Tips

A thread of tips to help High School and College students academically

LEARN THINGS FOR FREE

FREE ONLINE COURSES (here are listed websites that provide huge variety of courses)

Google like a BOSS

Some life hacks which make student's lives easier.

625 words to know in your Target Language

If your learning a new language, these words will help you build a strong foundation.(Some tips and sites are include too)

Miscellaneous/Life Hacks

How to add music to your Blog

How to add your very own, custom homemade playlist to your blog?

How to Walk with Purpose?

Some tips on how to hold yourself in public and why.

Cheatsheet for Laundry Rooms

Saves a lot of money in the Laundry Room

How to Gird up your Loins?

A lesson in how to gird your loins.

How to Disappear Online

Please read and spread for the sake of abuse victims or stalker victims.

What to do during a Nuclear Attack

I hope you never have to use it but here are some guidelines to follow in the event of a nuclear attack

How to pull an All-Nighter.

A to-do list

Write a Thank You letter after your Interview

It leaves a good impression on your interviewer and increase your chances of passing the interview.

Laundry Tags: Meanings

A life hack that you’ll definitely need at some point.

Where to find free Movies and Series Online

Lots of sites. Lots and Lots of sites. I am not Kidding. Now go and chill without netflix. (Part II)

How to get a Refund?

Get your stuff or a refund.

HOW TO DO EVERYTHING FROM SCRATCH

This starts at the most absolute basics of gardening and planting, provides definitions, and hopefully is easily understandable. This is a MUST-READ. (Farming)

Discuss your wages

It’s your right to share your salary, not doing so could be holding you back.

Youtube Tutorials for Basically EVERYTHING

This is a big, giant list of Youtube tutorials that will teach you all the basic life skills you need to know in order to be a functional adult.

Safety

Emergency Evacuation - Items to Gather

A text list of suggested items to acquire in the event of an emergency.

If someone you know is in an abusive relationship

AN ABBREVIATED GUIDE TO ‘Holy shit!!! My friend is in an abusive relationship what do I do’ and what not to do.

Defense Tips for Women

Defense and Safety tips a woman MUST know. (Part II)

An app that informs your Emergency contacts if you are inactive in a set period of time.(Could prevent rape attempts if used correctly)

If a Man gets Physical

How to check if a mirror is one way or two-way

If you are trapped in a smoke-filled apartment: What to Do

How to get out of Hand-binds

How to get out of the bunker of a Car

How to track Anonymous asks.

How to pick a Lock

Traits and Warning signs of an Abuser

What to do if a bigot pulls your Hijab (from behind)

What to do if someone pulls of a Muslim Woman's Hijab? (To do List for both Men and Women)

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

Correspondence, Chapter 02

Pairing: HotchReid

Summary:  An AU where Reid never joined the FBI, but got roped into consulting for the LA field office while working and teaching at Caltech. Hotch gets his email referred from a fellow agent, and they start to work on cases together -- until they start talking on a regular basis. Regular becomes frequent, frequent becomes constant. They know nothing about each other, but they don't really mind.

Rating: Mature/Explicit (eventually)

Chapter CW/notes: Vague mentions of PTSD, spoilers for the Foyet storyline/mentioned character death. Little angsty, maybe a little OOC since Reid and Hotch don’t actually have a boss/subordinate work relationship in this story and I’m adapting that whole-heartedly. But other than that, it’s just grown men acting like dorks and Reid attempting to give parenting advice. Set in season 6, self beta’d.

Word Count: 4535

Masterpost Link

Ao3 Link 

--

Chapter 02

--

May 2010

-

Hotch does, indeed, take Dr. Reid up on his offer.

They work on a few more cases together, over the course of six to eight weeks, and each time Dr. Reid proves to be an invaluable asset. His knowledge is unsurpassed, extensive, and astounds Hotch every time he opens a correspondence email from the esteemed professor. 

Have you ever thought about being an FBI agent? He teases one night, when they’d been sending theories back and forth in emails that had become less and less formal. Dr. Reid still sent dissertation-length assessments of the cases when they landed in his niche (which was often), but their replies had turned to a messaging template instead of the business-like format Hotch is used to writing all day every day. Quick, rapid-fire messages replacing the professional grade layout that felt so impersonal, with titles and headers and enough filler to give him chronic headaches.

This was much better. Informal as it was.

I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t pass the physical exams, but thanks for the compliment. Another life, maybe. Dr. Reid answers, and Hotch finds himself smiling and huffing a laugh behind closed lips, the kind that stays caught up in his chest. He’s not sure how much older the professor is, for all he knew he could be bordering on retirement, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless.

 I would get them waved, or curve the scores. I have that kind of pull around here. Never would he speak with his agents or anyone at the Quantico office like this, and it had taken weeks and dozens of emails to get to this point. But the freedom of it was nice, enchanting, like a little taste of his life outside of the office. Just confined to the response box of his email. Despite what everyone (ie: Morgan, Prentiss, Garcia) said about him, he did have a sense of humor. He just also had a sense of propriety, and he was their boss. He wasn’t going to make light with them in the place where they catch murderers.

Don’t tempt me. I have tenure. But Virginia gets so cold, I’d freeze to death half the year. 

Didn’t you attend MIT? What did you do during winter?

Froze to death. Pay attention.

Hotch outright laughs, and then snaps his mouth shut and looks out the open blinds of his office. Everyone has gone home, for the most part, but he doesn’t need JJ or someone else hearing him and coming to check on him. He hasn’t been getting much work done since Dr. Reid started replying to his emails that evening, and the little half smirk on his face is something he doesn’t think he can school as he rereads their conversation over and over. 

Apologies. Next I’m sure you’ll tell me how you had to walk to class uphill both ways in the snow.

No, I took the bus. And Froze. To. Death. I live in sweaters, and I’m from Las Vegas, I’m not meant for the cold. 

Las Vegas? Really?

Born and raised. My mother still lives there. 

Hotch’s eyebrows raise at that, apparently he’s not so old that his mother is still around. His own parents are gone, have been for years, but that’s under different circumstances and really not a situation he likes to reflect on.

Must be nice, only being a few hours from home. Do you go back often?

As little as possible. I should really visit my mother more, but that’s hard for reasons I won’t get into. I do write her, though. A letter every day, although not much happens around here for her to get invested in.

As in a real letter? Not an email, or a phone call?

She doesn’t do well with phone calls, or computers. Letters are more personal, anyway, and she likes being able to have the paper in her hands in my own handwriting. It’s the least I can do, not going home unless I absolutely have to. 

This is the most the man has ever spoken about himself, in a personal manner instead of an academic one, and Hotch isn’t quite sure how to take the evolution. It feels like a shift in their dynamic, an opening that could lead to a deeper level of friendship and -- it’s been a while since he’s had that. Allowed himself to have that. After Foyet, and even before when Haley started pushing for divorce and Hotch responded by isolating himself as much as he could to keep his work unaffected, he’d had trust issues. Hotch is man enough to admit that. 

But speaking with an old professor on the other side of the country might just be the stepping stone he needs. Who knows, maybe they’d even get the chance to meet one day.

I just grimaced at my own triteness. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you such a maudlin review of my life story.

No, that’s okay. I don’t talk much about myself, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. Work and home are kept very separate for me. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, I know, but it works as best as it can.

In your line of work, I can only imagine. You do what you have to. 

Hotch pauses in their conversation, looks at the clock and the stack of paperwork he still hasn’t finished -- too busy lost in his talk with Dr. Reid -- and feels an itching in the back of his mind he wants so desperately to scratch at. To give into. Lists of things he knows he should talk about, but doesn’t trust anyone enough to do so. Hotch really isn’t sure he can even trust Dr. Reid with them.

At least, not yet.

Thank you. And thank you for entertaining me, as well. 

Anytime.

--

It’s not a month later that Hotch is sitting at his desk, after hours, once again. Head in his hands and his phone still warm, overworked from the hour-long phone call he’d just endured with his ex-sister-in-law, Jessica. 

Jack was being bullied in school. She’d had to attend the parent-teacher conference about it instead of him, because he’d been on a case in Florida for over two weeks. Which really just highlighted to Jack’s teacher what his home life is like and she expressed her worry. Adamantly. Jessica was in agreement, and she once again wanted to have the conversation on if Hotch returning to work at the BAU had been the right choice after Haley was killed. He’d taken his sabbatical for 30 days, passed his psych evals -- which didn’t mean much, he helped write the qualification questions -- and Jack was doing well with his therapist and in school.

Or so he’d thought. Until today. 

That ‘conversation’ turned into an argument, because Hotch gets defensive when someone questions his choices in regards to his family, and as much as he knows that she is right -- he feels awful about how it devolved. Jessica has gone above and beyond in taking care of Jack, to allow Hotch to return to work, and she is the last person that deserves the brunt of his frustration. He only has himself to blame, and he doesn’t know what to do. Who to turn to. Who might have answers for him, if there even was a correct answer for his situation. 

The Foyet case is classified. His assigned therapist is so easily played he hasn’t returned to her in months. 

Hotch just wants someone who won’t see through him, even when he pushes back.

He wants to talk to someone who he doesn’t want to push back against.

Who he trusts.

Dr. Reid, I need help with something no one seems to have an answer for, but it’s of a personal matter and not a professional one. Would you mind lending me your services?

Hotch sends the email before he can take it back. It’s late in Virginia, but Dr. Reid is four hours behind him in California and there’s a high chance he might still be in his office. He seems to keep longer hours, for an old professor. 

He won’t admit it to himself, but he feels a tightness in his chest as he awaits an answer. All the paperwork from the Florida case is completed, there’s nothing keeping him there at the office any longer. But it’s too late to go pick up Jack from Jessica’s, and he doesn’t think he would be welcome to come sleep on her couch like he often does on nights like this. When he wants to be there when Jack wakes up, and tonight he longs to do just that. But he isn’t sure he can even look Jessica in the eye right now.

So he sits there, and watches his computer screen, and feels himself distance from the ache in his bones. Knowing if Dr. Reid doesn’t answer him, he would have to spend however long it would take to compartmentalize his apprehension, once again, and go home to his empty house and not think about how he is failing in raising his son. In being a good father. 

The soft ping of his inbox is his single solace in the storm of his thoughts.

Agent Hotchner, You know I’m always happy to help, in any way -- personal or professional -- if I can. What is it you need an answer to?

That tightness releases, but it also gives way to the worry building up in his chest. An overwhelming, crushing amount of it that he didn’t realize was climbing higher and higher the longer he’d been left alone with his thoughts. Drowning in trepidation. Everything he doesn’t want to have pressing on his mind when they are hunting down serial killers, working with criminals that would see it as a weakness and exploit it without batting an eye. 

But this time, Hotch knows this is becoming something he shouldn’t try to hide away. 

Child psychology. Trauma, in particular, and the effects on children after the fact. 

It’s enough to describe what he needs answered, without telling too much of what happened. It’s still hard for Hotch to think about what happened, to fully realize what they had gone through. What had happened to Haley, what had happened to him. What Jack will have to grow up knowing nearly happened to him. What he almost witnessed.

(626)-595-0387 I have unlimited texting, and tend to stay up very late at night. Also, I have a feeling that you might want to keep this off government regulated emails. I’m not a practicing psychiatrist, mind you, but anything I can do to help you I will be more than happy to offer. 

Hotch is stunned. Whatever he expected, that wasn’t it. He’s near speechless, staring at the phone number with a Pasadena area code, and hesitates in moving their correspondence off of the email platform. A drastic change in dynamic and expectations, but… it would be nice, to be able to message the professor whenever he wanted. The ease of access an alluring thought. 

Another soft ping in his inbox has him looking up from where he’d been glancing at his cell phone in contemplation.

Also, it goes without saying, but everything we talk about in our conversations would still be confidential. I have no one to tell them to, anyway. 

Hotch huffs out a sound that could have been a laugh, and he’s surprised he even can manage that. But he’s barely thinking about it before he’s picking up his cell phone and typing in the number Dr. Reid had given him. []6/3, 22:46[] This is Agent Hotchner.

He sends it, pauses in thought, then keeps typing.

[]6/3, 22:47[] You can call me Hotch, since this is outside work. Agent Hotchner just reminds me I’m abusing bureau resources for personal gain.

The whole interaction is causing this clawing, hot feeling in his chest that might be nervousness in risking the change in their work relationship, or residual guilt from the fight with Jessica about Jack, or just… the fear that Dr. Reid will tell him he is fucking this up and he should never have returned to the FBI at all. Because there are days, like today, where Hotch really starts to think that might be the case.

[]6/3, 22:49[] I figured as much. No one else actually messages me after 6pm except you and some of my more zealous students. 

[]6/3, 22:51[] And although I don’t think you’re abusing anything; in that same vein, you can call me Spencer. This is just two friends having a chat, nothing more. 

Hotch appreciates the gesture, finds himself almost smiling about it -- but then he remembers what he has to relay to ask what he wants to ask the other man. And he isn’t sure where to begin. 

So he just -- begins at the start. The case where Foyet fooled his whole team, posing as a victim, and managing to get away. Slipped through their fingers. Gotten away with murder and insider FBI information and more than he should have ever been able to access. Dr. Reid -- Spencer, please -- doesn’t say anything as he relates all of this, and Hotch commends his patience. Because from the start, this isn’t about child psychology at all. But it is certainly about trauma, and that becomes apparent when Hotch throws caution to the wind and describes what happened to him in his own apartment. Paraphrasing and dropping out intimate details, but explaining what happened is still brutal even stripped to its bare minimum. When Foyet had broken in, and blitzed him, and tortured him as he stabbed him nine times in the chest. Precise, practiced, indicative of letting him live with the knowledge of what that monster masquerading as a man could do. 

The details begin to bleed through the more he types. The more he remembers.

How he’d had to put his ex-wife and son into protective custody. How it hadn’t been enough. His late night obsessions all for naught. And finally, a brief -- or as brief as it can possibly be, for as brutal an event as it was -- summary of what happened when Foyet had found his family. How he had killed Haley, how they had stopped Foyet and Jack had been spared witnessing anything. Even the fight inside Hotch’s own house. He doesn’t… well, Hotch doesn’t plan on describing that and keeps it at bay. He barely remembers it. Blurs of fists and broken furniture and rooms he has memorized from years of memories flying by as they tore through his home like a hurricane. 

But he gives enough of a picture. Enough that, though he doesn’t say as much, Spencer probably knows Foyet didn’t make it out alive. Can guess it was by Hotch’s own hands. 

Which leads them to now -- to the part Hotch needed help with more than anything. His past and his trauma Hotch has a lot of practice dealing with, knows how to handle it alone. As he always has. But the part he doesn’t know how to handle?

He is raising his son on his own. His ex-sister-in-law, Jessica, has been a godsend and is helping with Jack so Hotch can be at work. His lifeblood. His identity. Everything he’s ever worked for. He almost left; Strauss had offered him an early retirement package that was too good to pass up, but he had in the end. Because being an FBI agent, catching the monsters that plague their world, that is what he does. And that’s what Jack knows him to do. 

It helps Jack, Hotch found, to know that his dad is out there catching men like the one that took away his mom. He probably would have taken the loss a lot worse, if Aaron had left the bureau. 

But he’s messing up. Hotch feels that in his bones. He’s gone so much, Jessica is taking on the role of parent instead of Aunt more and more, and Hotch does not want to turn into that father that shows up once in a blue moon and pretends he never left. He’s worried that what Jack’s teacher, and Jessica, had said is true and Jack’s home life isn’t going to be healthy for him. It’s going to make him suffer.

That what Jack has gone through, Hotch doesn’t know how to address correctly. 

It’s near a half hour later that he’s gotten the entire story out, and Hotch realizes that even though text is probably going to be easier to have a conversation like this… he probably could have written it in an email and saved them both some time. He apologizes at the error, because it’s late and his head isn’t quite screwed on straight whenever it comes to matters with his son, and he just… he’s at a loss. Doesn’t know what the right course of action is, or if there even is one outside of a professional’s opinion. 

Then Hotch waits for a reply.

It feels like hours, but in reality is only a couple of minutes. 

[]6/3, 23:22[] Hotch, the fact you are so worried about your son and how your actions have affected him through all of this, is all I really need to know about you being a good father. The consideration you are showing him is not something every parent can do, in the face of what happened to you and your family. You do not need to worry about that. You love your son, and that is the most important factor right now.

[]6/3, 23:25[] Secondly, I’m so sorry that this happened to you at all. You and your son sound like you have such a strong bond, and I know that’s what must have helped you through such a difficult time. It’s apparent that you love him very, very much. 

[]6/3, 23:29[] I don’t have a lot of friends that ask me the hard questions like this. Not that I don’t want them to, I just understand why, because I can recite statistics all day and give you textbook answers easily. Which I know you were hoping would give you a black and white response to your question. But in this there isn’t one, sadly. I know you are worried and I feel like you don’t need to be. And I don’t know how to express that in a way that won’t make you detest me. 

[]6/3, 23:32[] Your son just lost his mom, and you just lost your ex-wife, and there’s not going to be a straightforward path to healing. Everything you say you have done for him? It’s perfect, it’s exactly what you should be doing, and don’t stop. That’s all you can do and all you should focus on, in truth. Listen to what he tells you and watch for what he doesn’t, and hug him, because you are a great dad -- and this is coming from someone who did not have such an example. 

[]6/3, 23:33[] And I am very sorry about Haley, Hotch. I truly am. 

Hotch doesn’t even answer him for a good few minutes. It is a lot to process, to read through, and he does read through it more than once. But every single time he reads that final text, his eyes sting hotly and he has to blink back emotions he thought he had waded through plenty on his 30 days of leave. Apparently, not enough.

It’s so much, and yet he wants more. It’s not enough in the sense that he wishes Dr. Reid -- Spencer -- would keep talking to him. Keep telling him he’s doing a good job. That he hasn’t failed his son. 

That for once, he’s handling something right.

With a breath that feels like it shudders through his chest a little more roughly than it should, Hotch slowly types out a response that doesn’t even begin to feel anything close to adequate.

[]6/3, 23:41[] Thank you, Spencer. I could never detest you, in the slightest. Everyone keeps telling me I’m not screwing this up, but 

He pauses, not sure if he even believes what he’s about to type. 

At the last second, he switches tactics entirely. Feels a flood gate open. Just one, solitary floodgate in the vast Hoover Dam size wall he keeps up from the moment he shrugs into his suit jacket at home until he sheds it all away at the end of the night. In the confines of his home, with six physical locks on the door and two different digital security systems. With a weapon carefully concealed and childproofed in every room. With steel reinforced windows and no exit save for the front and back doors. A fire hazard, but a good precaution against anyone who would try to break in -- like Foyet had. 

[]6/3, 23:41[] ...I find it so hard to believe them. In some ways it’s hard to believe you, too, but that’s not personal. Your words have resonated more than anyone else’s, if that’s any consolation. Even more than the therapist they assigned after everything. 

[]6/3, 23:45[] My sister-in-law flat out told me I was failing my son, being away like I am, and his teacher believes his home environment isn’t healthy. He’s being bullied in school. I don’t know what to do.

Hotch types it all out and sends it. 

The reply is instantaneous.

[]6/3, 23:46[] Yes, you do. You know exactly what to do. 

And then there isn’t any further elaboration.

At first, Hotch is confused. He feels himself being pulled from that precipice of self-loathing and despair. Tugged by a string. The confusion forces him to look at Spencer’s response, nine words long, and decipher what they mean. 

Trusting his first instinct, once more.

[]6/3, 23:49[] I have to talk to Jack. 

[]6/3, 23:54[] You have heard all of this from everyone other than your son. He may be young, but he is going to know the answer better than his teacher or his aunt. Talk to him, before you start nailing yourself to a cross. You may find the answer to the situation a much easier fix than you are anticipating.

Hotch considers this, thinking about his son. Six-years-old now, first grade, smart as a tack, curious and kind. But so strong, a foundation that even he found himself clinging to sometimes, in the face of the storm of everything that had happened to them. Which is not healthy, and Hotch learned to not do that to him. To instead find solidarity in their relationship, withstanding the storm together. As they always have. 

[]6/3, 23:57[] He’s not one to let a bully have his way. He knows that’s not right. Maybe he has another strategy.

[]6/4, 00:01[] He’s young enough that trying to befriend his abuser would be a good tactic to counter the situation, does that seem like something he would do?

[]6/4, 00:02[] That sounds exactly like Jack. Hotch replies, with a smile finally easing on to his face -- and it feels lighter now. Easier to hold.

[]6/4, 00:04[] He sounds like a sweet kid.

[]6/4, 00:05[] He is. I’m very proud of him.

[]6/4, 00:07[] You really are a great dad, Hotch. I’m not just saying it to say it. 

That crushing, overwhelming feeling has ebbed to nearly nothing -- and with a sudden rush of vertigo it is replaced with gratitude for the old professor lending him his evening hours. It flashes warm and sudden and Hotch isn’t used to that, either. 

[]6/4, 00:08[] I would never expect you to, but thank you.

Even he feels lame for thanking the man for saying such a thing.

[]6/4, 00:10[] You don’t need to thank me, I barely did anything.

[]6/4, 00:11[] But if you ever need to talk, about anything really, I’d be more than happy to do so. 

[]6/4, 00:13[] I promise I can be good at that. The listening part. Day or night, it really doesn’t matter. I’ll always be around.

Hotch pauses at the offer, and then types slow and hesitant.

[]6/4, 00:16[] What if I just want to check in on a friend?

[]6/4, 00:16[] I am also around for that. 

The answer is sudden, without hesitation, and Hotch feels a smile start to ease the muscles in his face. Soften the edges once more.

[]6/4, 00:18[] I wouldn’t mind someone to talk to after a long day. It’s been a while since I’ve had a…

He pauses again, not quite sure if he remembers how to do this without pressing in too fast. Committing to too much, not sure what he is able to give of himself. But he’s already shared more with Dr. Reid in two months than he has with David in the past two years. 

Hotch makes a decision, for himself, for the first time in a long time.

[]6/4, 00:18[] ...It’s been a while since I’ve had a friend outside of the bureau. 

[]6/4, 00:19[] Do I still count if I’m a consultant?

[]6/4, 00:19[] You absolutely count. 

His own message makes him smile, and there’s a beat between messages where he hopes he made the older man smile as well. 

[]6/4, 00:22[] I’m never short on topics of conversation, I warn you. So unless you want a lecture on quantum physics -- how do you feel about chess?

[]6/4, 00:24[] I’m getting the feeling you’ll wipe the floor with me.

[]6/4, 00:25[] Oh, without a doubt. But the desktop app also has a chat feature.

[]6/4, 00:26[] Look at you, all modern and with the times.

[]6/4, 00:28[] My home phone may be a rotary, but even I can’t scoff at the vast reach of online chess. 

[]6/4, 00:28[] So what say you?

Hotch pauses, one final time, and considers the night; the conversation, Spencer’s advice, the way talking about what had happened helped ease the weight of it more than he’d ever anticipated. Then he thinks of the source, of what started it all, and how -- once again -- Dr. Reid was right about a number of things. But one thing in particular. 

[]6/4, 00:32[] I’m going to take your advice and go to my son. But tomorrow night, after he’s in bed, I have many hours to myself.

[]6/4, 00:35[] By no coincidence whatsoever, my evenings are always free. Care to show off those FBI honed deduction skills? My best chess opponents have ironically been FBI agents.

[]6/4, 00:36[] Oh, I’m terrible. Trust me.

[]6/4, 00:37[] I promise I don’t care. Your company is worth however many short games we can endure. 

Hotch smiles, despite himself, and this time doesn’t try to hold it back.

[]6/4, 00:39[] Then, it’s a date.

-

(tbc...)

-

Tagged list: @spencehotchner @ssa-sarahsunshine @gothamapologist @reidology @marsjareau @dragon-snaps-fandom​ @emmyraebird @just-an-emo-rat​​​ @aaron-hotchner187 @dk18077 @more-heid-pls @fakin-it-til-i-make-it @merpancake

[demonic-intervention]

Whumptober 2021 - Day 7

No. 7 - MY SPIDEY-SENSE IS TINGLING

helplessness | numbness | blindness

Word of Honor, Four Seasons Manor domesticity arc, Wenzhou, 1.8K, see tags for more info - AO3 link

Masterpost

important note: Blindness as a whumptober prompt comes with its own set of problems. As many actual blind people have already remarked, using blindness to inflict hurt on a fictional character leaves at best a bad aftertaste. It further reinforces the stereotype non-blind people have that living with impaired or without vision is a life that lacks something or that cannot be as happy. (Spoilers!) Thus, I want to specify that I've written this fic from the perspective that Zhou Zishu's initial reaction to waking up blind would be being scared and devastated because he sees his dreams for the future falling apart. This is the focus of this fic and I chose this based on canon. However, if he were to lose his vision permanently (which he knows will happen eventually), my headcanon is that he would find ways to adapt and still do the things he loves. But I understand that saying it is not the same as writing it. Furthermore, the trope of blindness being magically cured is a disservice to actual blind/visually-impared people for the reasons mentioned above. Therefore, I won't use disabilities of real-life people as whump prompts anymore. Nonetheless, I still wanted to post this fic (I wrote before learning about these issues), now in hopes that we as writers can start thinking about how we treat disabilities in fiction and how that might affect people with disabilities.

------------------------------

Wen Kexing was bursting into the room. "Ah-Xu, I can't believe you're still asleep." Until now, Zhou Zishu had slept peacefully. Even the nails hadn't acted up in the middle of the night. He grumbled and turned around, hitching the blanket further up to his neck. "Ah-Xu. You can't sleep all day," Wen Kexing reminded him by shaking him by the shoulders. "Ah-Xuuu."

Batting the pestering arms away, Zhou Zishu rolled back on his side despite now definitely being awake. "You pest, let me sleep." Wen Kexing was pouting. "Ah-Xu. So disrespectful of your wife. Get up, it's almost noon." Reflexively, Zhou Zishu swatted at the hands that seemed to be all over his body again. However, once Wen Kexing's words settled in, Zhou Zishu stilled. Meticulously, he pulled the covers away and swung his legs off the bed. Sitting on its edge, he stared into the air. "Ah-Xu?"

Zhou Zishu had to reassure himself twice that his eyes were open, but he could feel it. Digging his palms and nails into the bed frame, he opened his mouth. "Lao Wen. I can't see." Wen Kexing tipped his head to the side in a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?," he asked kneeling down in front of Zhou Zishu. "I can't see. Lao Wen, I'm blind."

Wen Kexing's puzzled expression changed to a worried one. Tentatively, he placed his hands on Zhou Zishu's knees and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, Ah-Xu." Being touched without foreseeing it made Zhou Zishu stiffen but his posture quickly relaxed again. He took one hand of the bed frame to seek Wen Kexing's hand. The latter looked at him helplessly. "Ah-Xu, has this happened before?" The empty gaze boring into his forehead made Wen Kexing nervous. "Not like this."

Wen Kexing was just about ready to jump out of his skin. He didn't know how to help, nor how to comfort Zhou Zishu. Hell, he didn't even know if helping Zhou Zishu was within his capabilities. But he had to try. "Ah-Xu, I need a little more to work with if I'm supposed to help you." For a split second, Zhou Zishu succumbed to terrified rage. "What is there that could possibly help! It's the nails. My vision has been fuzzy before, or darkening on the edges. But it has always returned to normal..." He let his head fall down and sighed deeply. In rapid succession, he saw all his hopes for a better future crumbling away in his mind. Blind he could no longer train Chengling. He couldn't see the Four Seasons Manor getting rebuild. He couldn't practice his martial arts to their full extent anymore. He would never see Lao Wen's face again. Blind, he was a liability. He couldn't stop a few tears from escaping his eyes.

Wen Kexing was always quick to catch onto his shixiong's distress. He palmed Zhou Zishu's cheek, wiping at a few tears and kissing the others away. "Ah-Xu. You can feel me, right?" He turned Zhou Zishu's hand with the palm facing upwards, slipping his own fingers over the curves to lace their fingers together. Zhou Zishu nodded weakly. Holding his hand, Wen Kexing continued reassuring him, "I'm right here. You still got me." He placed soft kisses on the back of his hand. "You said your vision always came back. Maybe it's the same this time. We just have to be a little patient."

The thoughts in Zhou Zishu's head were running at the speed of light, but they all boiled down to the same thing: he was useless now. On the outside, he hadn't moved for what felt like hours to Wen Kexing. "Ah-Xu. Say something." Although Zhou Zishu could technically pinpoint where Wen Kexing's face was to look at him, he lowered his eyes even more. Spoken into his chest, his words were almost inaudible. "I'm useless."

Zhou Zishu let out a shuddering breath, close to choking up. "Oh, Ah-Xu." Wen Kexing took Zhou Zishu's face in his hands, covering it with feather-like kisses. "Ah-Xu, you are not useless. Don't worry about that." Intent on keeping him silent, Wen Kexing mouthed kisses all over his face. He kissed Ah-Xu's arched eyebrows, the mole under his eye. Kissed his tears away, working his way from the corner of the mouth to the plump center. Zhou Zishu was visibly shaking, his voice stuttering. "But what if my sight doesn't return? What about training Chengling? Or my martial arts? Keeping you safe?"

Although Zhou Zishu couldn't see it, he could still hear Wen Kexing's gentle smile in his voice. "But those are what ifs, Ah-Xu. We will think about that should we get to it. First, you're gonna rest and we'll wait." His response was a sniffle and a fair nod. "Alright. Now, how about I make us something to eat while you meditate for a bit? Sounds like a plan?" Zhou Zishu was slowly unfolding himself, sitting more upright, and looking vaguely in Wen Kexing's direction. "Okay."

Wen Kexing was about to leave through the door when Zhou Zishu called out. "Wait! Lao Wen, what about Chengling?" Laughing whole-heartedly, Wen Kexing replied. "I'll just tell him to practice the steps you showed him yesterday until sunset." Chuckling, he slipped out of the room towards the kitchen.

*-*-*-*

Despite his composed demeanor, Wen Kexing was far from calm. He worried just as much as Zhou Zishu, maybe a bit more. Yet, he wasn't someone who resorted to panic where it was not needed. Staying calm had proved to be more useful in the past. And in any way, they weren't even sure Zhou Zishu would stay blind, Wen Kexing tried to reassure himself. For anything he knew, Zhou Zishu could come up behind him while cooking, wrapping his arms around his waist and happily declaring that he was back to normal. Thankfully, no one could be bothered by his anxiously hacking away at the vegetables. Well, except for the vegetables maybe.

On his way to the kitchen, Wen Kexing had run into Chengling and had told him what his shifu wanted him to do, all to Chengling's dislike. Grumpily, he had gotten up and was now training in the yard. With his quick thinking skills, Wen Kexing had added that Chengling should not disturb Zhou Zishu today for he was meditating in his room. Any other discipline might have asked some more questions, yet Chengling wasn't one to think too much of things. Albeit he did find it unusual for his shifu to meditate all day.

Wen Kexing returned to find Zhou Zishu sitting on the bed in deep meditation. Although unwilling to interrupt, it was time for dinner. "Ah-Xu, let's eat!" Wen Kexing carried a tray to the table while Zhou Zishu had already gotten up. Without a word, Wen Kexing offered him his hand to guide him to the table. Placing his hands on his shoulders, he turned Zhou Zishu in the right direction so all he had to do was sit down where he stood. After arranging his limbs, Zhou Zishu uttered a small thanks.

Once they were both seated, Wen Kexing pushed a bowl into Zhou Zishu's hands. "What is this?" Wen Kexing was pouring himself a bowl. "Ah-Xu. Can't you tell?" Leaning in, Zhou Zishu smelled the soup before moving his hand around the rim of the bowl to find a spoon placed in it. "Careful, it's still hot." Zhou Zishu blew on it, then took a sip. His eyebrows rose in happy surprise. "Lotus root soup?" Nodding satisfied, Wen Kexing explained briefly. "Sustains the mind and body." Even if it didn't, Zhou Zishu would still eat through an entire pot of Lao Wen's lotus root soup. Wen Kexing considered his mission to lift Ah-Xu's spirits a success.

*-*-*-*

Like that, the afternoon passed by. After dinner, Zhou Zishu had reverted to meditating and Wen Kexing had joined him playing soothing melodies on his xiao after cleaning up the kitchen and reminding Chengling not to slack off.

It was evening. Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu sat next to each other bed in their dimly-lit room. Wen Kexing was reading, sometimes out loud for Zhou Zishu who sat close by with his head leaning on Wen Kexing's shoulder. "It seems the hills and rivers have been waiting,/ The flowers and willows all are selfless now./ The field is sleek and vivid, thin mist shines,/ On soft sand, the sunlight's color shows it's late./ All the traveler's sorrow fades away,/ What better place to rest than this?," Wen Kexing recited.

In the radiating warmth of Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu closed his eyes to listen to his voice and feel the vibrations in his chest. Zhou Zishu wondered why Wen Kexing had picked that poem. "Lao Wen, do you want to tell me something with this poem?," he prodded. "Ah-Xu. You know I carry my heart on my tongue. All is said already." Out of habit, Zhou Zishu opened his eyes again as he cuddled closer to Wen Kexing. At first, he believed the orange dots to be figures of his imagination. But after some time had passed, he recognized the edges of the table glowing in the candlelight. He recognized the silhouettes of their bodies leaning against each other. Zhou Zishu smiled and melted into Wen Kexing's touch.

He entangled himself from Wen Kexing only for a moment to take Lao Wen's face in his hands and turn it so that they could face one another. Zhou Zishu made sure to look Wen Kexing in the eyes before leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was soft, yet passionate and claiming. When they parted again, Wen Kexing looked at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Ah-Xu, you're sight is back?" Offering him a smile, Zhou Zishu nodded reassuringly. Unable to contain himself, Wen Kexing let out a laugh just to bury his face in Zhou Zishu's neck and holding him close. Absent-mindedly, Zhou Zishu caressed Wen Kexing's back. It was a silent thank you and an offer of comfort to both men.

As night crept over them, they eventually lay down to sleep. It was taking longer than usual because Zhou Zishu paused in his movements every time he laid eyes on Wen Kexing. He asked Wen Kexing to keep the candles burning until they would inevitably go out. Wen Kexing seemed to understand when he let the candles be to crawl under the blanket next to Zhou Zishu. Being on his feet all day, it didn't take long for Wen Kexing to fall asleep, protectively tugged into Zhou Zishu's embrace. Zhou Zishu wouldn't sleep as long as the candles were still burning. The sight of Wen Kexing peacefully asleep just too good to shut his eyes to. He was set on making sure he would never forget how his Lao Wen looked like resting so close to his heart.

poem: Travelling Again (後游) by Du Fu (杜甫)

[scripttorture]

You've said on this blog before that for something to count as sensory deprivation, 4 or more (I think) major senses have to be removed. Is there a word for torture where only one is removed? E.G., a solitary confinement cell in pitch darkness, so that a non-blind character loses access to sight. And how would that complicate the normally documented effects of solitary confinement?

Generally most sources or interviews describe the specific conditions they’re talking about rather then apply a specific word. I tend to lump it in with poor prison conditions and neglect, making sure to specify exactly what was going on. I don’t think there is a specific word.

 This sort of thing definitely happens. Other variants I’ve heard of include designing prison uniforms as all-covering in order to limit a person’s sense of touch and making prisoners wear ear protectors to limit hearing/communication.

 I haven’t seen any systematic studies on this in the way I have for solitary confinement. My impression is that pitch black cells in particular were more common historically then they are now.

 This stuff does still happen but it’s a lot rarer then it used to be. Because of that I’m not entirely sure if a systematic study would be possible. I’m not sure if you’d find the numbers necessary for it.

 Pitch black cells in particular are very well documented historically. But historical sources tend to be poorer sources for long term effects on survivors. (By which I mean most historical sources on torture I’ve read just… don’t contain any information in that regard. I’m not sure there was much interest in follow up on what happened to people.)

 So we are in ‘educated guess’ territory. I’m putting this together based on what information there is on solitary and a small number historic interviews with people who were kept in darkness.

 Generally I’d expect it to mean an earlier on-set of symptoms and more severe symptoms manifesting earlier. I say this because in general that seems to be the effect of poor prison conditions when someone is kept in solitary confinement.

 I’ve seen a couple of reports tentatively linking worsening eyesight in solitary to poor prison conditions but I don’t know enough about the eye to say whether a complete lack of lighting would have this effect. And that applies to a lot of the variations I’ve described: I’m not a doctor so I’m not sure what limiting some of these senses over a long period does in a physical sense. Psychologically it’s an added stress which makes solitary more harmful. But there could be a lot of physical damage in these scenarios that I just… don’t know enough about the human body to unpack.

 That’s one of the difficulties with rarer tortures; it can be hard to figure out what the physical damage would be and why.

 My instinct, based mostly on my own experience with lab safety gear, is that how a sense is restricted will make a difference in terms of the lasting effects. For instance using my example of limiting hearing: if you wear ear plugs every day all day your ears will hurt*. A lot. And I think you would eventually start to see lasting damage to the ears and hearing.

 In contrast ear defenders don’t hurt the inside of the ear. But they are heavier and can get caught on things, which can lead to pain in the neck and shoulders.

 Similarly with the example of gloves, depending on the material you can see some pretty major skin irritation with constant use. My hands currently resemble a shedding lizard and this is a low-glove use week. That could cause knock on effects (infections for example).

 So I think there could be different physical symptoms depending on how the character’s vision is restricted. No light is different to very low light and both are different to blindfolds or bags over the head.

 Get a clear idea of exactly what is happening in your story and how. Consult Scriptmedic's archives. And think through whether there are any knock on problems or practical issues associated with the method. For instance if this character can't see they're going to be more likely to trip (at least at first) and they're going to have more difficulty navigating their cell.

 This could lead to more bruises, scrapes and cuts. It might also mean it takes them longer to eat their meals and it would probably make it more difficult for them to keep their cell clean. (Imagine dropping one cherry tomato in the kitchen and picture how difficult it would be to find it without stepping on it if you're blind.)

 Those effects apply to every method that takes away a character's sight. But a hood over the head for long periods can also restrict breathing. Think about whether a particular method has those sorts of individual knock on effects.

 Circling back to the psychological effects, this is basically an added risk factor in a solitary confinement scenario. This typically looks like symptoms manifesting earlier and becoming more severe more quickly.

 Based on the few historical sources I've seen over the years feelings of helplessness seem particularly prominent, whether the victims were in solitary or not. I can't say from any of the sources I've seen whether any other symptoms are 'more likely'. It's difficult to tell from what's there. I've seen a few people today theorise that lack of stimulation (ie dark cell conditions, lack of sound etc) could make hallucinations and psychosis in solitary more likely. I think that's possible, we know that true sensory deprivation causes hallucinations (sometimes very quickly), but I also don't think we have enough evidence to say for sure.

 Overall if you want to write something like this I’d suggest looking up resources to do with coping with disability. Because effectively what you’re talking about is rendering a character (temporarily) disabled and throwing them in solitary at the same time. Learning how to navigate it and processing it, I think it would probably be a similar process for your character. They're going to have to learn to live with the limitations that have been placed on them, even if they are temporary.

 Coming to terms with disability can be a long, emotional, stressful process. Having it happen in captivity, without support or access to other disabled people, that would make it more stressful and more difficult. Depression in the months after becoming disabled is relatively common. For a lot of people it's also temporary, a depressive episode rather then something that will last a life time.

 All of this would mix with the stresses and psychological damage of solitary itself.

 Take a look at the masterpost. Read through Shalev's sourcebook which you can find linked in the sources page for the masterpost.

 Decide what symptoms you're interested in and what kind of severity level you're comfortable with writing. Remember that with poor prison conditions this character will be showing more symptoms earlier and they'll reach a more serious stage more quickly. Work backwards from that to figure out how long they could reasonably be confined.

 If the time frame doesn't fit you're story (you are looking at some pretty serious long term effects after a few weeks) then consider changing the scenario. You could make the cell conditions better and not have anything limiting the character's senses. You could also have the character share their cell periodically, giving a scenario where the character isn’t in solitary for the entire time they’re imprisoned.

 They’d still have lasting symptoms. They’d still be going through a really awful experience. But it would help you to realistically mitigate some of the damage.

 I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*Making large batches of liquid drug formulations, or the liquid base that a drug is mixed into, requires some very noisy equipment. Better facilities tend to supply fitted ear protectors but ear plugs are still very common. And if you’re making 50 litres of a formula every day for a week… it has an effect.

[cotncandyboifics]

The Bidding of the Prince Twins: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~

Pairings: (vague/qpr) Loceit, eventual Analoceit

Word count: 2,977

Story summary: Virgil finds himself being held hostage in an unknown location. His two suspected captors seem to care for him more than any strangers should, especially strangers who kidnapped him. But were they really the ones who kidnapped him? That aside, Virgil also can't shake the feeling that there's something familiar about them. He just can't pin-point what it is. As time passes, the layers of lies the three of them are caught in are gradually peeled away, one by one.

General CW: U!Roman, U!Remus, food, kidnapping, implied Stockholm Syndrome, moderate to severe amnesia, swearing, sexual innuendos, graphic descriptions of gore/violence/scarring, minor character d-aths, anxiety attacks, panic attacks, non-graphic descriptions of needles (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: food mentioned, minor amnesia, kidnapping hostage, swearing, non-graphic description of anxiety attack, non-graphic description of a needle (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author Notes: <none>

...

Virgil winced, squinting sharply as a blinding white light was trained on his face. A giant light getting forced into someone's face would be jarring under any circumstances, but it was especially so considering he had previously been engulfed in an almost equally jarring darkness. He'd also just awoken from an unexpected stint of disorienting unconsciousness.

He felt a presence behind the light, and the edges of hair tufts caught bits of light from behind the cone of death that was focused on him. The figure was clearly tall, and though Virgil was seated, he could easily tell that if he weren't, this person would probably be a head taller than him at the very least. He tried to twist his wrists in the several zip-ties that had them bound together behind his back, as well as to a rod running up the center of the back of his chair. He clenched his jaw, looking down as the light sent a shock-wave of pain through his eyes.

"Virgil Black." A stern monotone voice came from where he'd seen the shiny bits of hair before. It's familiarity wasn't striking, but it had a relatively calming effect on Virgil's nerves, so his mind didn't feel the need to follow that train of thought.

"That's me, man," He tried, voice coming out slightly hoarse. "Mind explaining why the fuck you've got me tied up in this interrogation basement? Last I checked I'm not involved in any CIA bullshit," He sneered. Suddenly, he heard the sound of someone pushing a chair out and standing sounded somewhere to his right, behind the first figure. Someone else was there too. A step or two sounded as the second entity vaguely came toward Virgil. Great, two assholes to shake off.

"Very funny." A deeper voice came, much snarkier than the first. Virgil felt his spine tingle. This voice was oddly familiar as well, but he was still too out of sorts to try and figure out why.

"I apologize for the unsavory conditions, but it is imperative that our identities be kept classified for the time being. All we need is a minute amount of information, and we will be on our way." The first voice again. A very small clacking sound of plastic came from near the figure's face.

"Imperative to what?" Virgil hissed between clenched teeth, looking back up at the mysterious person. This time, he was able to pick out another feature; the light also caught what appeared to be the rim and lens of a pair of square prescription glasses. That explained the plastic clacking, he guessed. Virgil doubted they could be any other sort of glasses; it's possible that this person was a constantly-wearing-sunglasses type, but based on his brief time interacting with them, Virgil didn't really buy that. As well, some part of his intuition told him they were most certainly prescription, the same part that had noted the familiarity of both voices.

"That will also have to remain classified for now. But enough." The voice grew firm. Virgil tried to keep himself from swallowing audibly. "What are the most recent events that you remember, Virgil?"

He tried to think. "Well it's awful hard to recall anything with that giant light in my face, so can I have a minute to think? On top of that my memory is shit anyway because of my anxiety. Is that cool with you, thing 1 and thing 2?" A scoff came from Thing 2, seemingly off in the corner. Virgil hoped the half-hearted remark would keep them entertained as he tried twisting his ankles. They were tightly and securely duct taped to the legs of his chair, which was slowly cutting off his circulation. He felt his toes starting to grow cold and tingly. That meant he'd only been secured like this for a short amount of time, a couple minutes at most.

"By all means. Take your time." Still the first figure's voice, dripping with sincerity. Virgil detected what seemed to be a hint of remorse in their voice, as if they genuinely felt sorry, or at least uncomfortable with what they were doing. Virgil wondered why the second person was so evasive. He figured he'd try to provoke them into speaking again soon.

But for now, he had to think. What was the last thing he remembered? Before a throbbing headache, before the pitch black, before the sound of heavy rusty doors whining open and closed, and two sets of footsteps approaching him. He hadn't really registered them at the time; he'd been too disoriented, he guessed from some sort of anesthetic.

He tried to think back further. He pulled basic facts from his mind, hoping to jog his memory. He lived in New York, in a one-bedroom apartment with his roommate and best friend Patton. They'd fit two twin beds in their little bedroom. They were both Seniors at NYU. That started things off, at least. He spent a lingering moment recalling the cat they both took care of together. Her name was Natalie, and she was pitch black, each and every hair on her body a rich raven shade.

He knew Patton had planned to have a little get-together with some Psych major friends he had, and encouraged Virgil to bring some of his Techie buddies. They'd gone shopping for snacks last night.

He figured he'd start with that.

"Well, I remember Tuesday night for sure. Me and my roommate went grocery shopping. Getting snacks for a little get-together we were having. Not my idea, of course. I'm not a huge fan of parties, or-"

"We asked for your most recent memories, not your life story," drawled the second voice. Virgil smirked behind his bangs. "Will you get on with it already? Unless Tuesday night is really your most recent memory."

"As much as your- contributions - are appreciated, J, I am conducting this interrogation, and I'd prefer if you'd keep your snide comments to yourself for at least the first session," The first voice came again, hushed and sounding strained. Virgil clung to what little information he got from the comment. The second voice belonged to someone who could be identified as "J" apparently, and this was the first... session? Virgil had to set his mental notes aside for the time being though, since he had evidently not yet produced an adequate response. "My apologies, Virgil. My colleague is... rather, anxious, to... move things along. You may continue."

"No sweat. Sounds like J just needs a bit of a chill pill." Virgil smirked in the general direction he'd heard J's voice coming from. He was met with an almost disturbing silence. As expected. "Anyway. I remember shopping, and heading home, and... eventually sleeping. Ah, I guess I woke up a little late Wednesday morning, because I was rushing around and shit. My roommate looked kinda worried about it, but that's just how he is." Virgil paused for a moment. He wondered if these two mysterious figures knew about Patton and NYU and where he lived and everything, and considering he knew nothing about them or what they wanted from him, he wouldn't have been surprised. Regardless, he figured it would be best to keep things as anonymous as possible for the time being. "...Hmm. Then I think I rushed onto the bus. I think I caught it just before it was leaving. I got to, where I was going, and did what I was meaning to do, and then... I guess I headed home? I remember the thing I had to do, and finishing it, but... after that things get kinda foggy. I dunno." He paused again. A beat of silence. "Then again, I'll probably remember more in a few minutes. Especially if I'm not being literally slowly blinded." He finished, looking up at the figure behind the light with as large eyes as he could manage. The figure cleared their throat.

"Thank you Virgil. As well, there is no need for anonymity. We are fully aware of your roommate Patton, and the Economics lecture you nearly missed on Wednesday. However, your attempt at omission was... if nothing else, entertaining." Virgil scoffed under his breath. Even if his anxiety had predicted this just moments before, he was getting really freaked out now. It's never the same at all, imagining worst case scenarios and actually living them. The initial shock of this whole situation was wearing off, giving way to panic.

"At this time, in return all I can offer you is this. You are aware of the second man in your presence, I'm sure. For now you will know him as J, as you clearly caught on to rather quickly."

"He loves the witty ones," J's voice came this time directly from Virgil's left, and much closer than before. It took all of Virgil's self control not to flinch away. "So you'll entertain him well. He's L, by the way."

L cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you J. I shall be addressed as L. You will likely only see both of us at once. Perhaps on rare occasions we will each come in alone, but J and I are partnered, so that would likely do little more than impair our... performance."

"Partnered? Performance? What am I, a high school science project?" Virgil snickered bitterly. "My wrists are starting to hurt pretty fucking bad. This is pretty sketchy, L. I didn't fucking do anything wrong. Why am I here?" Virgil tried not to let the shrill breathiness overtake his voice too much, but the anxiety rising in his chest was far from merciful. He tried to calm himself internally, but that wasn't exactly working out.

"I can understand your frustrations," L replied, and the glint of his glasses shifted, the small plastic clacking sound coming again with it. Virgil realized it was just L adjusting his glasses, likely out of habit. "But, for your safety, I cannot give you a direct answer to any of those questions yet. Ah, except; no, you are not a high school science project." Virgil could practically taste the smirk on L's face. He wanted to spit at him. He wanted to tear himself out of the fucking zip ties and duct tape. He felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Listen, I get that you two are having a jolly good time fucking me up, but I'm," Virgil struggled, each word becoming harder to force out of his trembling mouth, "I'm kinda freaking out here." He hated the way his voice cracked then.

Virgil could see the glint of L's glasses shifting again, the tall man turning to look at his sarcastic counterpart. A short nod, and with a small clicking sound, the light was shut off.

Somehow, the room seemed darker than it had before. The change was so disorienting that Virgil couldn't pinpoint just where the sounds of shuffling of feet around him were coming from or going. No screeching metal door sounds came though, so he knew J and L had to be in the room with him still. His breathing was becoming very labored, and it overwhelmed him as the only sound he could hear. God, how he hated anxiety attacks.

"Virgil." J's voice came from directly in front of him - J was likely crouched to be on Virgil's level - and it was uncharacteristically silky smooth. He flinched that time, but was able to keep himself from hissing. He was only sure it was J's because of its specific inflections; there was no way this could be L, and there was certainly no fourth person in the room (he hoped). "I understand you are very disoriented right now, but the last thing we want to do is cause you an anxiety attack. My sincerest apologies for triggering the beginning of one. That aside, I need you to focus on your breathing. Nothing but your breaths and the sound of my voice."

His voice felt like butter melting, gliding across a hot pan and leaving a silky trail. Or maybe like warm honey running down flushed skin. Virgil was captivated, and thank fuck, because if it weren't for Fuck Face #2 over here, he doubted he would have been able to get out of this one so easily. So he focused, focused hard on the labored breaths he was huffing.

"Now, I need you to try to slow down. Just a little bit. Slow down for me. Feel the air filling and retreating in your lungs. Let it stay a little longer. Then, let it leave in a gentle skip instead of a frantic sprint." God, if Virgil wasn't Fucking Freaking Out right now, he'd probably be trying to flirt with Mr. Butter-tongue, considering the shivers going up his spine weren't only thanks to his panic disorder.

Gradually, he managed to slow down. It wasn't a straight path, but eventually he got there. J continued cooing sweet nothings to him as he came down before any sort of climax. He thanked the darkness for hiding his horridly hot face from his captors. He heard a slight creasing of fabric.

"All better?" J's smile was practically visible with the way he almost sweetly sneered those words. His voice came from higher up, so Virgil knew he must've stood once again. He just scoffed in a half-assed cover up.

"Sure, Fuck Face Number two." He tried rocking himself side to side in his chair, but it seemed to be attached to the floor. He groaned.

J tsked a few times. "Is that any way to talk to someone who just kept you from what would surely have been a horridly exhausting anxiety attack? Honestly. You ought to be more grateful, Virgil." Virgil was beginning to passionately hate the way J talked; so sassy and drawly, as if he thought he was some serious hot stuff. Virgil wanted to smack him something awful.

He heard soft receding footsteps, feeling J's presence recoil.

"So how does this work? Is someone gonna have to whip out my dick for me when I have to pee?" Virgil prodded at the void around him.

"Very funny, Virgil. No, you will soon be... enlightened, regarding your temporary living situation, so to speak." L's voice came again, finally, from slightly to the right. It was a lot less variant in tone than J's, and Virgil greatly appreciated the constancy.

He couldn't respond soon enough; he felt something pierce his skin on his left outer thigh. Warm breath teasing at skin behind his left ear was the last thing he remembered. "Go to sleep, V. We'll see you again very soon."

"Night night, J," He whispered, before the lights really went out.

...

Logan sighed, shrugging off his navy pinstriped suit jacket as he shut the door behind him. He held it by the collar in one hand, turning to survey the disheveled mess that the observation room had become over such a short period of time.

Piles and piles of paper were stacked high on the wall-to-wall desk, and stacked higher on the floor. The interrogation light - just an industrial Flashlight with a cone of metal wrapped around it's end to amplify it - had been discarded lazily in one corner. Janus was seated at said desk, slouched over himself on a fold-out metal chair, resting his chin on his palm as he looked out through the false mirror at a peacefully sleeping Virgil.

His hat was resting on a corner of the back of his chair, along with his gold-encrusted swallowtail coat. He looked a bit of a mess. His hair was fraying and splaying everywhere. His eyes looked tired, even if Logan could only see his one blind eye from this angle. The jagged scars that crept up his neck and covered the side of his face seemed paler than usual.

"Are you okay, Janus?" Logan inquired as neutrally as he could manage, sitting beside his friend.

Janus merely side-eyed Logan, in his all-knowing way. "I think you and I both know the answer to that question."

"Look, I know this method is-- well, disconcerting," Logan's words rushed out of his mouth as if they were being chased, "but we do not have another choice right now. We will get this over with soon... we will find a way to get through this." Logan cleared his throat and fidgeted with his tie. Janus considered rolling his eyes and responding snidely, but he knew Logan wasn't taking kindly to these new... circumstances either.

"We will." He settled on an attempt to be reassuring. Janus had always been good at that, or at least he'd been told so. He only wished it worked on himself too, especially now. Logan offered a small smile.

A long silence overtook them. They both simply sat side by side and observed their unconscious hostage. He was sprawled rather inelegantly across a deep grey satin bed, one arm wrapped in a death grip around a plush pillow. His leg stuck out haphazardly over the edge of the bed, and his hair was in worse shape than Janus' - which was saying something, since Janus' hair was notoriously wavy and curly and constantly out of sorts, while Virgil's was just straight. His mouth was slacked open, but he didn't snore. His eyebags were somehow visible under his black eyeshadow.

Logan broke the silence first. This normally would have dismayed Janus, but again, these were... unusual circumstances. "Well, he seems figuratively out cold for the time being. Shall we seek out some sustenance?" Logan shrugged his suit jacket back on. Janus didn't move a muscle.

"I'm not hungry right now. You go ahead, I'll make sure he doesn't wake up and start tearing out his hair or something." Janus' somber tone stole his voice's usual sarcasm. Logan rested a hand on his shoulder with a great softness.

"I'll grab you a little something. Try not to stress yourself out too much." With that, Logan set a water bottle on the desk beside Janus' elbow and left in near silence.

Janus heard a faint receding clicking as Logan walked away down the hall.

[bean-pole-art]

Ed’s Borderlands Fics Masterpost

well finally

here is the masterpost of all of my Borderlands fics posted. most of them are Rhysothy focused to various AUs. I’m gonna update it as I post more but here it is, along with some of my commentary

right from the start big big BIG shoutout to @spoks-illogical-art​, my partner in crime, my biggest inspo, without them honestly most of these fics wouldn’t exist, please check out their amazing art <3

(latest edit - 21/02/2021)

Atlas AU - our main timeline, follows events of Moxxi’s Heist. lots of different concepts and ideas but the core really is Tim moving to Promethea to get help from Rhys. gonna sort em here with posting date, check the ao3 series for the “timeline”

Hypothetically - 2240 words summary: Rhys talks a lot, but usually thinks about it too little.

coffee, cats & monographs - 2880 words summary: “Hey hey, easy. You don’t want to repeat the accident from last week, do you?” Rhys cooed towards the cat and picked her up, just as Timothy instructed him to. Hearing these words, Felicity meowed. “Oh, don’t say that. This is my office and I have the power here,” he answered, carrying her back to his personal space.

Or Timothy's cat pays a visit to Rhys' office in the morning. note: I am a stupid mofo and at this point Tim would also have Loader Bot fkjbfd just imagine hes not mentioned cause hes wandering off, typical LB

Have Faith - 1470 words summary: During the 7 year lockdown at the Handsome Jackpot, Timothy couldn't really have any hope for himself. But maybe on Promethea it could be different. note: sudden feelings while watching JoltzDude139′s stream

Warm Cheeks, Cold Hands - 1170 words summary: Rhys comes home early and wants to say hi to his husband. With no ulterior motive. None at all. note: first fic Ive ever posted where characters are married, actually. fuck it, Rhysothy Real, his name is Rhys Lawrence

the battle (and the aftermath) of the ages - 2970 words summary: In a situation like this everything was possible, they could pull any punches they could think of. Four beasts playing against each other, every single one of them thinking of striking the winning blow.

Or Promethea Squad plays UNO. And then watches a movie. note: I love Promethea Squad with my whole heart

okurimono (贈り物) - 4/4, 17170 words summary: “Not a bomb. Just a device with a message for Rhys. Trust me on that,” this time an emoji of both winking and showing off a tongue [;P] appeared on the surface of Zer0’s helmet. Ah. So they were definitely trying to mess him up. In a way. Unfortunately, he really didn’t have any other options. Almost with a defeat, Timothy took the ECHOrecorder right from their hands and looked around it again. Or Zer0 gives Timothy a peculiar mission. note: my first ever multichapter fic. took me legit abt 8 months to finish but I am absolutely satisfied with this. also the bonus ending. yes

(there is) something I see in you - 8690 words summary: How one Rhys Strongfork met one Timothy Lawrence and how they fell for each other. More or less. note: best to go into this one blind, I swear. dumbest fic Ive ever written and please take this as a recommendation

this world is gonna pull through - 14380 words summary: Timothy really hoped it wasn’t anything important. He had that tendency to forget things easily, even if he tried to fight it. But Rhys kept on smiling and went by his side. So it couldn’t have been that bad. Still dumbfounded, he felt Rhys leaving a kiss right on his cheek.“November 11th? 

That- That seriously doesn’t ring any bells?” Rhys continued, brushing his hands against his shoulders. Or how Timothy spent one of his birthdays. note: also a love letter for Tim but a nicer one I guess kdjfnb dont ask how old is he i have no gdamn idea man

Strawberry Sweet - 3560 words summary: Rhys surprises Timothy with a gift for their date night in.

Happy Mercenary Day, Mr. Lawrence - 4670 words summary: How Timothy spent his first Mercenary Day on Promethea. note: I swear this is the best writer night Ive ever had. Ive written this whole thing in one night on Christmas day, solely on the inspo of that song I linked

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - 4/4, 17080 words summary:  Afterwards, he went around with his usual duties. Getting a quick roundabout from his PA, checking several sectors himself and looking through the thousands of messages already sent to him via ECHOs. Rhys was ready to finally take on the day, yet when he made his way to the office, he saw the unusual envelope right by the edge of his desk. “For Rhys” was written on it. Straightforward enough. Or Rhys gets a letter from a secret admirer. note: another multichapter fic!! this one also took some time and well. its inspired by ABBA songs. cause only I would write a Rhysothy fic inspired by ABBA

Ratchet Effect - 7130 words summary: Knowing just how much overworked Rhys has been, Timothy wants to let them have a nice getaway in Lazy River Land. There's only one problem to overcome - ratch infestation. note: first fic of 2021!! Ive been playing a lot of bl3 suring the writing of it so it has a lot of stuff I had observed both on Promethea and on Jackpot

Reflections - 2250 words summary: Sometimes, Timothy needs a reminder.

Tales AU - second most important timeline. it’s Tales but Tim is a part of the group. sorted chronologically

A Story For Another Day - ongoing, for now -  2/25, 15280 words Tales AU main fic. it’s gonna be a big one

Connection Interrupted - 3240 words summary: With his driving shift finished, Timothy checks up on Rhys and Vaughn's plans.

Completely Hopeless - 1040 words summary: In which Fiona notices that Rhys behaves differently in front of a certain doppelganger.

infinity times infinity times infinity - 3460 words summary: Rhys and Timothy share some dreams and secrets underneath the stars. note: the beautiful combination of Sleeping At Last and Minecraft parodies. I promise it makes sense

reality can be whatever I want - 11420 words summary: “Hey, Tim?” Timothy didn’t even spare him a look, “Are we alone, or is he there with you?” Oh, this definitely won’t be pretty.

After the confession of Handsome Jack's AI in his head and his plan to infiltrate Helios, Rhys needs to set things right with Timothy. Somehow. note: thanosdancing.gif to Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” 80′s remix and a guest appearance from Ferocity but I cant legally say her name here

still here - 2820 words summary: It all had to go down, after Helios crashed. note: I have...a love/hate relationship with this one kjdfbfg I like it but it’s honestly an alternate ending and doesnt fit within our usual bad ending, so take it with a grain of salt. i ten jebany błąd językowy w summary, kiedy ja go poprawię

together at last - 5590 words summary: It all struck him down in an instant, in this one minute. They were all safe. And they were all alive. Nothing was threatening neither him, nor Timothy, nor Fiona. He could finally breathe out.

They all found each other again. note: I am multitasking most time of my life but I dont relate any other fic to multitasking more than this one. I was honestly doing 10 things at once while writing this dfkjbndf

David AU - this one is a sub AU to Tales AU and the plot is kind of complicated dfjkbfb please check the fic for further explanation

building in curved lines - 22490 words summary: “To be fair, you look terrible. You’re barely standing in one piece and none of your coffees will hold you together for that long,” Lilith paused, seemingly weighing the correct words in her head. “You haven’t really been holding on since… We rescued The Double.” Rhys sighed heavily. Why did she have to be so right about everything. Or how Rhys and Timothy adjust to the reality after the Handsome Jack AI. note: bday gift for Spok, EASILY one of my absolute faves and the longest fic Ive written thus far

outside of AUs - some concepts I play with that are honestly outside any of our concrete timelines/concepts + fics not focused on Rhysothy

Real - 770 words summary: Reconciling with your past is a little easier, when you have someone you love right in your arms. note: first blands fic I’ve ever written. the characterization isn’t really there yet but as a first shot at the game and my kind of “introduction”, I am still satisfied of it

(Un)Familiar Faces - 9620 words summary: Timothy pursed his lips and leaned over the wall a little. He’s had enough of this solitude of closed doppelganger cabinet. Today wasn’t the day for another self-loathing session. Today, he should go off on Helios and do something for himself.

Or Timothy spends the night at a Helios bar. But not as Handsome Jack. And not as Timothy Lawrence either. note: personal favorite of mine, tough love letter to Timothy Lawrence. I have so many fond memories of writing this, including getting drunk out of my mind just like Tim and Rhys here

basics of survival - 2010 words summary: Athena taught Timothy everything he needed to know about survival. Now, it was time to put these skills into use. note: wrote this right before rona outbreak on last day in my dorms. thats all

[theforsakenprince]

Nightmare’s Lullaby

A/N: So this is what I’ve been working on for the past six months! A huge thank you to @jajathelivingmeme for the artwork they made of my fic which you can find here and @ts-storytime for organizing the event! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy!

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Words: 31,540

Pairings: Prinxiety

Characters: Roman, Remus, Patton, Logan, Janus, Virgil, Frost (OC)

Warnings: Minor character deaths, blood, knives, cursing, mentions of abuse, fighting, food (let me know if I need to tag anything!)

Summary: Roman had spent his entire life as a prince of the SkyWing tribe, nothing remarkable. He spent his days doing his princely duties and trying to stay in Queen Scarlet’s good graces. When he hears about an assassin killing off members of the other tribe’s royal families, he isn’t too worried. No one from the Sky Kingdom had been killed, and surely the assassin would be caught soon.

He’s proven wrong when the RainWing queen is murdered at a meeting and Remus goes missing. Queen Scarlet tasks him with finding the assassin and putting them down, and he doesn’t want to find out what will happen if he doesn’t.

If Roman were given any choice in the matter, he would most certainly not be  sitting next to Queen Scarlet, watching over the arena battles. But since he wasn't given a choice, he found himself doing exactly that on the balcony overlooking the stadium, absolutely miserable.  

The smell of dead dragons made his stomach churn. The way the crowd roared for blood made him want to squeeze his eyes shut and clap his talons over his ears. The way his mother, Queen Scarlet, seemed to enjoy the screams of agony made him want to vomit over the side of the balcony where they watched the arena fights.

To put it simply, he was the exact opposite of his brother.  

Where Roman was disgusted, Remus was thrilled. Where Roman wanted to gouge his own eyes out, Remus watched with unrestrained glee, which was probably why Remus had become Queen Scarlet’s champion. After a prisoner had won a few fights, Scarlet always sent Remus in. She said that if they could beat him, they could go free.

No dragon had ever beaten Remus. 

So when Roman saw his brother was going to fight, he knew it was going to be a short one.

“Welcome to today’s battle!” Prince Vermilion, the announcer, shouted from the center of the arena. “In this corner, we have Horizon of the SandWings!” he swept a wing to the side where Horizon cowered. Horizon was bigger than Remus, but he still looked terrified. Roman could see the SandWing’s legs trembling from his spot next to Scarlet.

“And in the other corner, we have Her Majesty’s champion, Prince Remus of the SkyWings!”

The crowd roared so loudly they shook the stadium. Roman had to suppress a wince. Remus grinned and basked in the crowd’s cheering.

Vermilion spread his wings and started to rise slowly. “Are our battlers prepared? Claws out! Teeth ready! FIGHT!” Vermilion flew over to the balcony and landed beside Roman to watch the battle unfold. 

Horizon turned and bolted, then stopped, as if just realizing he was trapped. He whirled around and faced Remus, growling. His barbed tail lashed, sending clouds of sand to stir up around him.

Remus, meanwhile, hadn’t moved a muscle. Horizon, unsure of what to do, swiped a talon at him, but Remus sidestepped easily and twisted, flinging sand into the SandWing’s eyes. Horizon hissed and shook his head to dispel the grit, clawing at his eyes. While he was blinded, Remus lunged forward and shoved him into the ground, but Horizon managed to scramble away. He turned around and raised his poisonous barbed tail like a scorpion, hissing.

Beside Roman, Queen Scarlet yawned. “Get on with it!” she yelled. Remus glanced at her and Horizon pounced, his claws aimed at the champion’s throat.

Remus whipped around, suddenly holding a knife. He stabbed upward with the knife, hitting Horizon in the chest just before he could tear out Remus’ throat. The SandWing crumbled to the ground, coughing and spitting out blood. Horizon was dead within moments. Remus pulled the knife free and wiped it on his frilly sleeves, staining them red.

Vermilion grunted. “Good one.”

As the guards rushed to clean up the mess, Remus flew up to the balcony, grinning. “Did you see how fast I did that?” he said, catching up to Roman as he started to walk back to their chambers. “That was too easy. The criminals are slacking.”

Roman smirked. “Or maybe you’re just really good at your job. Where did you hide that knife anyway?”

“I hid it up my-”

“You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“-sleeve. I was going to say sleeve.”

“Right. I knew that.”

Roman stepped into the room he and Remus shared. A black line divided the room in half, with Roman’s side being mostly red and white and Remus’s mostly green and black. Despite the palace having more rooms than Queen Scarlet could ever use, Roman insisted on sharing a room with Remus. It just felt… right.

Remus moved to his half of the room, placing his knife on the wall where an assortment of weapons hung. He started to rearrange his weapons in an order Roman could never figure out. As far as he knew, there was no rhyme or reason to it.

“Did you hear the news?”

Roman was busy dusting off his cloak and wrapping it around his shoulders, studying himself in his floor to ceiling mirror. “What news?”

He could feel Remus’s eyes on his back. “You seriously don’t know?”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

Remus shrugged and turned back to his wall of weapons. “King Gill of the SeaWings has been assassinated.” 

Roman sighed. “So soon after the RainWings lost Princess Toucan. When was that, a week ago?”

Remus didn’t reply.

He looked over his shoulder, concerned. “Remus?”

For a second, he thought Remus looked… worried? But then the moment passed and the grin was back. 

“Yep! That was just a week ago. Time flies when royalty’s getting murdered!”

“Indeed,” Roman murmured as he finally did the clasp for his cloak. Suddenly, something occurred to him. He stepped over the line that divided the room in half. “How did you know Gill was murdered? Of course,” he answered himself. “You’re Remus.”

“That I am, brother,”

Just then, a SkyWing burst into the room, panting hard. Roman widened his eyes and moved forward to catch her as she listed to the side.

“Th-thank you,” she said after she got her breathing under control. “Queen Scarlet wishes to see you both in her throne room, Your Highnesses.” she bowed deeply to both of them before swiftly leaving the room.

He glanced at Remus nervously. Being summoned by the queen in the Sky Kingdom was never good. “Do you know what she wants?”

“Why would I know?”

“I don’t know! You just seem to know everything that happens around here!”

Remus pondered that for a moment. “Fair enough.”

“...Do you want to go see what she wants?”

“That would be great.”

.

“There you are! You took your time.” Queen Scarlet’s voice had an unnatural cheer to it, as if the slightest inconvenience would send her on a murder spree (that had happened once. Roman had been horrified.)

Roman bowed deeply. “We apologize for being late, Your Majesty.” he could feel her gaze searing into his head. He resolutely kept his eyes on the ground and his expression blank. He didn’t dare move a muscle.

Remus crouched beside him. “Suck up,” he hissed, too quietly for Queen Scarlet to hear. 

He wanted to protest, to say that no, he was not a suck up, but Scarlet was looking at them exasperatedly, and he valued his life, thank you very much.

“Oh, you can get up,” she said when neither of them moved for a few moments. “I have a very important job for you.”

Roman got up slowly, eyeing her warily, and nudged Remus, prompting him to do the same. “What you may not know is that King Gill of the SeaWings has been murdered,” Queen Scarlet said, far too casually for the topic she was discussing. “The other queens are setting up a meeting at the SandWing stronghold to discuss what to do next and all that. You two are going to represent the SkyWings! Isn’t that thrilling? You should go to your room to prepare, you leave first thing tomorrow.”

Roman nodded and dipped his head. “We’ll get packed right away Your Majesty.” he wondered why she wasn’t going herself, but from the way she was looking at them, he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

“You better. Oh, and Roman?” she said, making him stop and turn around to face her.

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Don’t disappoint me.”

.

Roman shouldered his pack as he waited for the guards to join them at the front of the palace. He and Remus had finished packing ages ago, and he was just about to lose his mind. He was still pondering what Queen Scarlet had said to him before.

Don’t disappoint me. What did that mean? He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he did disappoint her, whatever that meant.

“Didn’t Queen Scarlet say she would talonpick the guard herself?” Remus said irritably, flinging rocks off the edge of the palace and watching them skitter down the mountain. “So what’s taking her so damn long?”

“Shush!” Roman hissed, looking around to see if anyone heard. “You never know who’s listening. However,” he added in a hushed tone, leaning toward Remus, “I agree wholeheartedly.”

“Prince Roman,” a voice from behind him said.

He immediately straightened his posture and whirled around to face the speaker.

He found himself face to face with his sister, Princess Ruby. She had a wing of six SkyWings at her side, all who were much bigger and more threatening than him. Ruby flicked her tail and the guards formed a line behind her.

“Prince Remus,” she acknowledged his twin with a dip of her head before turning back to Roman. “We’re ready to depart whenever you are.”

Roman nodded and turned toward the horizon. “Let’s go while there’s still daylight left. We have a long journey ahead of us.”

.

Six days and far too many complaints of aching wings later, the SandWing stronghold was finally within sight.

They touched down on the burning sand. Roman checked to make sure everyone was still following him, then made his way to the palace.

Remus walked alongside him. “I hope a fight breaks out. Remember last time? Now that was entertainment! I don’t think I’ve seen Ruby so angry before!”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that this time,” Ruby said from behind them. “As long as Queen Thorn doesn’t make passive aggressive comments and Prince Nightstalker has learned to hold his tongue-”

“-And none of us wound Queen Glacier’s pride.” Roman added.

“And Queen Coral doesn’t take every comment as an insult toward the SeaWing royal family,” Remus piped up.

Ruby sighed. “This is going to be a disaster.”

Roman tilted his golden wings to catch the sunlight. “Well, let’s try to be as diplomatic as dragonly possible, shall we?”

Princess Ruby offered him a small, rare smile. “You simply ask for the impossible, brother.” The three chuckled as they approached the heavy, iron doors of the stronghold. 

The two SandWing guards that stood at the entrance of the stronghold raised their spears at the approaching SkyWings threateningly. “Your names and titles.”

“Prince Roman of the SkyWings.”

“Prince and Champion Remus of the SkyWings.”

“Princess and General Ruby of the SkyWings.”

The SandWing guards shared a glance, probably wondering why Queen Scarlet was not present. Roman picked at the flap of his satchel and prayed that they wouldn’t mention it.

Fortunately, the guards pulled the heavy doors open without questioning them. They began to accompany the SkyWings down a long hallway lined with torches as Ruby ordered the SkyWing guard to stay outside. They were eventually led into a large room made of sandstone. A circular table took up a majority of the room. As they entered the room, Roman’s eyes were drawn to the large, black box that sat in the corner. A strange hissing sound emanated from the box, and he wondered what was in it. 

His attention was drawn back to the table as more dragons arrived. Despite living a great distance away from the sand kingdom, they were the second to arrive, beaten only by the RainWings. 

“You’re Prince Roman, aren’t you?”

He whirled around. In front of him stood a peculiar looking RainWing. His scales were blue and black, a strange color combination for a RainWing to choose. Glasses sat upon his triangular face, and spikes ran down his neck and ended on the tip of his tail.

“You would be correct in assuming that I am Prince Roman,” he said, quickly regaining his wits. He looked closely at the shorter dragon. “I can’t say that I’ve seen you around before. What’s your name?”

The RainWing adjusted his glasses. “My name is Logan, advisor to Queen Grandeur.”

“Advisor? I didn’t think advisors were… important enough to be present here.”

Logan frowned, but ignored his comment. “Anyway, I approached you to inquire about Queen Scarlet’s absence.”

Roman opened his mouth, but had no idea what he was supposed to say. She was busy? Had other matters to attend to? Now Logan was staring at him expectantly and he still hadn’t come up with an excuse and oh moons he was going to disappoint all his SkyWing ancestors-

He was saved from eternal embarrassment by a roar for a silence. The meeting was about to begin.

Roman gave Logan an awkward smile and quickly took his seat between Remus and Ruby, near the corner where the black box sat. He turned his attention towards the head of the table, where Queen Thorn looked uncomfortable sitting on an elaborate throne. Beside her was her NightWing-SandWing hybrid daughter, Princess Sunny. She was a small, golden yellow dragon that looked entirely out of place in the midst of all the royals.

Next to Sunny was the NightWing queen, Queen Voidwalker and her son, Prince Nightstalker. Voidwalker was gazing regally around the table, and with a jolt Roman remembered that she could read minds as well as see the future. He ducked his head as her gaze landed on him. On Voidwalker’s other side was Queen Glacier of the IceWings. She looked miserable in the heat, and was constantly fanning herself with her wings. Her guards sat behind her, still as statues.

Queen Moorhen of the Mudwings sat next to the IceWing. Like Glacier, she hadn’t brought anyone else from the royal family. Her guards were nowhere to be seen. Queen Coral and her daughter, Princess Tsunami, sat next to Remus. Both of the SeaWings were drowning in pearls and other jewelry (it was quiet overkill, in Roman’s humble opinion)

Lastly, on Ruby’s side sat Queen Grandeur of the RainWings and her advisor, Logan. The queen’s scales were a brilliant shade of purple, though they were slowly starting to shift towards green. Logan’s scales were still the same blue and black.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Queen Thorn announced, effectively ending any remaining conversations. She cleared her throat. “We are gathered here today-”

“Oh, skip all the boring stuff, we know why we’re here,” Remus interrupted. Roman elbowed him hard beneath the table. Remus discreetly stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Prince Remus is correct,” Queen Voidwalker said, to Roman’s surprise. “every second we spend in inaction is a second given to the assassin. Lives are at stake.”

Princess Tsunami nodded. “They have already taken Princess Toucan of the RainWings and Lady Crane of the MudWings.” she paused, her claws digging into the table. “And my father, King Gill of the SeaWings.”

The table was silent for a moment.

Queen Glacier broke the silence. “Is there a pattern to these murders?”

Logan replied, “Not any pattern that makes sense. The assassin’s first victim was Princess Toucan. However, they left the queen and her granddaughter alone, which of course we’re all grateful for, but doesn’t make sense if the assassin’s goal is to kill the royal families. Next, the assassin went to the Mud Kingdom and killed Lady Crane. What puzzles me is after visiting the Mud Kingdom, the killer flies all the way back to the Sea Kingdom with no reported sightings in between.” Logan took a deep breath. “The only pattern I can find is the victims are all from different tribes.”

“Who’s doing this?” Princess Sunny asked nervously. Roman didn’t miss the way her voice shook.

“I think the real question is who’s going to be next?” Voidwalker growled, clenching her fists. “The killer’s murders seem to be random, so we cannot rely on a pattern.”

“If I may add something,” Roman cut in. “I think it is important to note that no queens have been killed.”

“Yet,” Queen Coral said in the high, paranoid voice of hers. “They have already taken my king. It’s safe to assume that no one in the royal family-or anyone, for that matter- is safe from this killer.”

“So the most we can do is keep an eye on our families?” Queen Grandeur demanded, flaring the ruff on her neck. “That doesn’t sound like much of a solution, I’m afraid.”

“Actually,” Queen Thorn said, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “this brings me to the reason I called you all here.”

This piqued the interest of the royals. Roman raised a brow, prompting her to continue.

“I propose a continent wide dragon hunt.” Queen Thorn continued. “My hope is that we find and apprehend the assassin quickly and we can put this all behind us.”

Silence filled the room as the royals contemplated this.

“It’s preposterous,” Prince Nightstalker said after a moment despite Queen Voidwalker shooting him a glare. “We need our armies at our palaces to defend the royal family. We shouldn’t spread our forces too thin.”

“On the contrary,” said Queen Moorhen, lifting her large, flat head. “If we combine our forces, finding the killer won’t be a problem. They can’t hide from all the seven tribes. Not for long, at least.”

As the room dissolved into arguing and shouts, the hissing from the black box only grew louder. Roman flinched as Ruby stretched her long neck and added her roaring to the noise. He resisted the urge to cover his ears and settled for digging his claws into the wooden table and gritting his teeth, praying to the moons that the yelling would stop.

A bloodcurdling scream was what finally silenced the noise.

A viper the size of Roman’s entire body had latched onto Queen Grandeur’s throat.

At first, stunned silence. Then, Logan stumbled back, eyes wide with fear, followed by ear splitting shrieks.

All the dragons ran for the hallway, pushing and shoving anyone in their way. Roman was thrown to the ground by an IceWing guard. He clutched his bag close to his chest as his heart pounded and he staggered to his feet, looking around wildly for Remus and Ruby. They were nowhere in sight.

“Remus!” he roared, pushing through the crowd of panicked royals and guards. “REMUS!”

He was slowly being pushed toward the hallway when he suddenly tripped. He hissed as someone stepped on his claws. Roman craned his neck to see what he tripped on and stifled a scream.

The empty, sightless eyes of Queen Grandeur stared back at him, the dead snake coiled around her neck. He shuddered and got to his feet.

“Prince Roman?” a voice from behind him called out.

“Not right now, I need to find my brother and make sure he’s okay-”

“Prince Roman.”

He turned around. Logan was crouched over Grandeur’s body in the now empty meeting room. He had tossed the snake’s body to the side and was currently trying to heave the body up.

“I... may... require some assistance,” Logan said with a huff, letting the body fall to the floor.

Roman blinked, setting aside his internal panic. “Of- of course.” He slung the queen’s body across his back, grunting with the effort. She was much heavier than she looked.

The two walked side by side down the hallway, Logan muttering under his breath while Roman looked for any signs of Remus and Ruby. He was really starting to worry and almost regretted helping the RainWing instead of looking for his tribemates.

“Dragonbite viper,” Logan said as they exited the palace.

“Sorry?” Roman said absently, his gaze sweeping across the empty desert.

“That snake was called a dragonbite viper. The only snake on the continent that can kill a dragon with a single bite.”

“Oh.” was all Roman said.

 They continued across the sand, the sun’s heat beating onto Roman’s scales, yet he refused to rest. He was afraid that if he stopped walking, he would give in to the panic and not be able to get up again.

“This was most certainly the assassin’s doing,” Logan said matter-of-factly. “It’s too deliberate to be a coincidence.” Roman was too tired to reply.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they came across an oasis. Roman set down the body onto the sand and rubbed his aching shoulders. It was fully dark. Two full moons hung in the sky, the third barely visible behind the clouds.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked softly. He wasn’t sure if he was asking Logan or himself.

“Go back to the rainforest, firstly.” Logan answered. “Then hunt down the assassin. They are not getting away with this.”

Privately, Roman thought the tiny RainWing was biting off more than he could chew, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Logan!” a voice from above called. Roman tensed, then relaxed when he realized the voice belonged to a RainWing.

Logan squinted at the sky. “Is that… Emile?”

Emile landed and immediately ran towards his friend. “We searched everywhere for hours! We thought you were dead!” His scales turned from camouflage to a radiant yellow. 

“Well, as you can see, I am alive and well. But the queen…”

Emile’s scales turned a desolate grey and his smile melted. “So the rumors are true?”

Logan nodded in affirmation, and the two RainWings lowered their heads. Roman stood awkwardly to the side, desperately wanting to leave to search for his companions, but not wanting to interrupt them.

After a moment of silence, Emile lifted his head. “I have a message for you. Prin- Queen Glory wants you to stay away from the rainforest until the assassin is caught.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “Did she say why?”

Emile shook his head. “She wouldn’t give any more details. I think she’s afraid the killer will target you because you witnessed the murder.”

Logan shuddered. “Understood.”

“Oh! Before I forget!” Emile said. “Um, you’re Prince Roman, right?”

He nodded.

“Queen Scarlet had a message for you.”

Roman widened his eyes. “Really? What did she say?”

He fidgeted with his claws nervously. “She- she said that you are tasked with finding the assassin,” he looked up apologetically. “and you can’t go back to the Sky Kingdom until you do so.”

Roman opened his mouth, then closed it, searching for the right words. Why would Queen Scarlet choose him? He was hardly qualified to find a killer. His skills mostly consisted of storytelling and painting. Remus was the one who was good at fighting. Does she want to get rid of me that badly?

 He finally settled for “Thank you, er… Emile, was it? I’ll try my best.” If I don’t die first.

Emile coughed uncomfortably. “Well, I’ll take Grandeur and be on my way, I guess.” he heaved Grandeur onto his shoulders and crouched to leap in the air.

“Wait!” Roman said, a question on the tip of his tongue. “Have you seen my siblings, Remus and Ruby?”

Emile brightened. “Actually, I have seen Ruby on her way to the Sky Palace, though I have not seen Remus. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize!” on the outside he was smiling, but a fresh wave of worry threatened to overwhelm him. Was his brother okay? Where did he go? And more importantly, how in the world was he supposed to find an assassin?

As Emile left with the queen and his squadron of RainWings, Logan’s frill fluttered nervously. “Seeing as I’m unable to return to the rain kingdom, I could perhaps… assist you in your search?”

That stirred Roman out of his thoughts. “Really? You?”

Logan shot him a glare. “Yes, me. It might surprise you, but I am not entirely useless.”

Roman scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. It’s just…” he wasn’t sure how to describe whatever it was that he was feeling, but thankfully, Logan seemed to understand.

“It’s quite alright,” he said. He began to make preparations for the night, making indentations in the sand for them to sleep in. Roman had a feeling that the strange RainWing would find a way to follow him, whether or not he refused his companionship.

“I’ll stay awake to keep watch for threats,” Roman said.

Logan yawned. “Wake me when you begin to feel tired. A sleeping guard won’t do anybody any good.” his eyes were already closing, and within moments, Logan was asleep.

For a while, Roman paced back and forth, too energized to sit still. Twice he almost stepped on a scorpion. He lost count of how many times he heard wingbeats and looked up hopefully, only for it to be a bat or some other desert dwelling creature. 

He was about to wake Logan for the next shift when he heard a snap.Suddenly alert, Roman headed toward the noise.

He could barely make out the silhouette of a dragon on the other side of the oasis, drinking from the small pond. Roman crouched down and snuck along the perimeter of the pond, trying not to make a sound. As he crept closer, he realized the dragon was an IceWing. Spikes sprouted from the IceWing’s neck and went down their back. The dragon’s ice colored scales caught the light of the moons, causing them to glisten.

What if this is the assassin? He thought. Am I skilled enough to fight them? 

Despite his hammering heart and every rational thought screaming at him to wake Logan and run, he snarled and pounced, landing squarely on the IceWing’s back.

The IceWing roared and threw him off. Sand filled his nose and mouth and he coughed. She was on him in an instant, pinning him to the ground. The IceWing’s claws dug into his shoulders, drawing blood. 

Roman twisted his neck around and sank his teeth into her arm. She roared in pain and tried to wrench her arm free from his grip, but he didn’t let go, even when the sharp taste of blood reached his tongue.

The IceWing finally managed to get free of Roman and stumbled back, giving him enough time to get back on his feet. He crouched in a defensive stance, but the expression on the IceWing’s face stopped him from attacking.

“Wait… are you Prince Roman?” she asked, squinting. Dark blue blood dripped from the bite in her arm.

“That is the third time I’ve been asked that question today,” he said, feeling irritated. “You’d think they’d recognize me! I don’t even look like most SkyWings anyway!”

The IceWing gave him a tired look. “Is that a yes?”

“...yes.” 

“Then why did you attack me?” Roman flinched at the sudden outburst. “Aren’t you supposed to be brave and honorable or something?”

“Wait, the other tribes really say that about me?” he asked delightedly, rising from his defensive crouch.

“Stop changing the subject.”

“Right,” he grumbled. “Sorry for attacking you. Although, one can’t be too careful in these times.”

The IceWing raised a brow. “Do I really look like an assassin?”

“You did leave these nasty scratches in my shoulders,” Roman whimpered. “I think I might be dying!”

The IceWIng rolled her eyes. “As long as it doesn’t get infected, you’ll be fine. If anyone should be worried, it’s me.” she inspected the gash in her arm. “You left a pretty deep bite in there.”

“Oh, er, sorry about that.”Roman squinted at the IceWing. “Wait, I know you. You’re Frost, aren’t you? First circle IceWing? Youngest member of the royal guard at six years old?”

Frost blinked at him. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

“Well, Frost, where is your queen? And the rest of the guard? Perhaps I could accompany you-”

“No!” Frost said quickly, her eyes widening. “I mean.” she regained her composure. “I can find my way back on my own.”

Roman blinked at her. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any trouble-”

“I’m fine,” she said firmly.

“Well, at least stay with us for the night. No one should be wandering the desert alone. Especially when it’s dark.”

Frost avoided his gaze while she contemplated his offer. Finally, she said,  “Alright. But only for tonight. In the morning, I’m leaving.”

He nodded. “That’s fair. Now come and get some rest. You look exhausted.”

He led her to the empty spot next to Logan. It took some time to convince her that no, he was not going to kill her in her sleep and yes, she was completely safe here.

As Frost finally fell asleep, Roman realized how tired he was. He briefly considered waking Logan, but decided not to. Perhaps a part of him still clung to a small, foolish hope that Remus would show up, laugh Roman’s worries away, and they could go hunt the assassin down together.

No such hope arrived.

As Roman watched the horizon steadily turn brighter, he wondered what his brother was doing now, and if he was even alive.

.

“Roman, who is that?”

Roman jerked awake, blinking in bewilderment. The sun had fully risen and was slowly making its way across the sky.

“What?” he asked groggily when he finally registered Logan’s question.

The RainWing sighed and pointed at Frost, who was still asleep. “Who is that IceWing? I almost spat my venom at her.”

Roman blinked the last of the sleep away. “Oh, Frost? She was one of the IceWing guards that came with Queen Glacier. I told her she could stay at the oasis for the night.”

Logan sat back on his hind legs and rubbed his forehead. “This kind of… politeness… will only bring about more trouble. There is a murderer on the loose, remember?”

Roman frowned. “Just because there’s a killer out there doesn’t mean we have to stop being nice to strangers.”

“Those words are going to be written on my tombstone, aren’t they?”

“What’re you two yapping on about?” Frost said from behind them, sounding irritated. She stretched each leg one at a time before climbing the sand dune to join them.

Logan sighed. “Nothing of importance. Isn’t it about time you were on your way, Frost?”

Frost rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, I gotta fly over the entire rainforest today. That’s gonna be fun.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t the Ice kingdom in the opposite direction of the rainforest?”

Frost froze, looking trapped. “Well, um, Queen Glacier said that she wanted to speak with the Queen of the RainWings before going back to the Ice Kingdom?”

Before Roman could even blink, Logan was on the IceWing’s back, his fangs aimed at her throat. “She’s lying, Roman,” he said quickly. “She’s the assassin. She was probably on her way to the MudWings or SeaWings, if I had to guess.”

“Wait!” Frost exclaimed, struggling to stand under Logan’s weight. “I swear by my mother’s grave that I’m not the assassin. I have an explanation for this.” Logan hesitated and glanced at Roman, unsure. Roman nodded slightly and Logan sighed, getting off of Frost.

“Fine. You may explain, but one wrong move and I give you a face full of venom.”

Frost growled softly. “I didn’t get separated from my tribe, I ran away. And I don’t plan on going back either.” she glared at both of them. “That good enough for you?”

They were both silent for a few moments.

Logan stared at her, shocked. “You would abandon your tribe? After all they’ve done for you?”

“They didn’t do shit for me.” she snarled, lashing her tail. “You haven’t lived with the IceWings. Maybe your tribe actually cares about its dragons, but mine didn’t. You don’t know anything.”

Logan shook his head, bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

But Roman did understand, sort of. He understood the feeling of wanting to leave your tribe because they’ve hurt you, and how could they possibly be your tribe if they’ve hurt you? How were they supposed to be your family if they cared so little for you?

Roman stepped forward. “I may not understand exactly why you left, but I understand that you’re not here to hurt anyone.”

Frost stared at him suspiciously. “So you’re letting me go? Just like that?”

“Hold on,” Logan said, eyeing the IceWing warily. “I think we’re being a little hasty. I don’t think we should let her go just yet.”

Roman turned to him. “So what do you suppose we do?”

“Simple. We take her with us. If she is the assassin, then you,” he nodded at Roman. “have completed your task and you can go back to the Sky Kingdom. If she isn’t, then she’ll help us find the actual assassin.” he turned to Frost. “Isn’t that right?”

Frost was silent for a moment, seeming to realize that she was trapped. “Fine. It’s not like I have anything better to do. But after all this is over, I am owed an apology.”

Logan ignored her last statement and turned to him. “What should our next course of action be? I am reluctant to admit this, but,” he added in a low voice. “I don’t have a single clue where we should start. I’ve thought about it, trying to find a pattern or a lead or something, but I have had no luck.”

Roman thought back to the meeting  and the moment the Dragonbite viper appeared. “You know, back in the meeting room, there was a black box in one of the corners. I’m sure I heard hissing noises coming from it.”

Logan tilted his head thoughtfully. “So you think we should go back to the SandWing Stronghold and investigate this black box?”

“Yep!” he wiggled his tail happily. “Oooh, I feel like a real detective!”

Logan sighed and muttered something along the lines of, “I am surrounded by idiots.”

“So that’s your big plan?” Frost cut in. “What about after that? The assassin could be anywhere.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Roman said, turning in the direction of the stronghold. “For now, we’ve got a SandWing Queen to visit.”

.

“What’s even the point of coming back here?” Frost complained, using her wings to shield herself from the sun. “I don’t think Thorn will have any information. Grandeur was killed by a snake. And are you sure that snake was planted by the assassin? Maybe Thorn just had a Dragonbite Viper that unfortunately got loose.”

Logan frowned. “Why would Thorn keep a Dragonbite Viper, of all snakes?”

Frost shrugged. “I don’t know, SandWings are weird.”

Roman gritted his teeth. “Why would she keep the snake in the meeting room, of all places? No, it was too deliberate to be a coincidence. We have to ask her where that black box came from.”

Frost sighed. “You keep mentioning this… black box, but are you sure you didn’t imagine it? I didn’t see it.” 

“It was shoved in a corner. Lots of dragons didn’t see it.”

 “Whatever you say, Your Highness.” she said mockingly.

Roman suppressed a sigh and kept walking. The past day they had been trekking back to the stronghold, enduring the brutal heat of the desert. Frost, as the only IceWing, had it the worst, but Roman was surprised that she didn’t complain (much). But even if she didn’t complain, however, she did find great joy in finding everything wrong with every sentence that came out of his mouth, and that was starting to get on his nerves.

“We’re here!” Logan shouted from the top of the next sand dune. After making sure they were following, he started down the other side of the dune. Roman struggled up the side of the dune and sat down at the top with a huff. Frost settled beside him, wiping sweat from her brow but otherwise looking unbothered.

Logan was already walking towards the Stronghold and Roman scrambled down the mountain of sand. Frost glided down gracefully and landed beside him, smirking.

Show off, Roman thought to himself.

Up ahead, Logan was already talking to the SandWing guards in front of the palace.

“-so we need to see the queen,” Logan was saying to the guards. “And quickly, if possible.”

Roman walked up to them while Frost hung back. “It is of the utmost importance.”

The guards glanced at each other, uncertain. Then, the guard on the right nodded and opened the door.

“Fine, but make it quick.” She turned to Frost. “And the IceWing stays here.”

“What? Why?” Frost asked, eyes wide.

“You say you’re here on royal business? Well, you’re not royalty.” she nodded at her partner. “Keep an eye on her.”

Frost opened her mouth to protest, but was stopped by a glare from Logan. She clamped her jaw shut and sat down angrily.

As they were escorted into the stronghold, Roman leaned down and whispered, “How much did you tell them?”

Logan kept his gaze forward. “Enough to get us an audience with Queen Thorn.”

Roman drew back, uneasy. He wasn’t sure he wanted all of Pyrrhia to know he had been sent on a fool’s quest. Nevertheless, he kept his chin up, his back straight, and his eyes forward.

They were led through long hallways and winding tunnels, so many that Roman wondered how anyone could possibly navigate it. Eventually, they arrived at a courtyard. Tents were scattered around it, seemingly at random. The SandWing guard beckoned them toward the tent in the middle, calling out to whoever was in it.

“Come in,” called a voice from inside, presumably Thorn. Roman and Logan shared a look before crouching through the front flap.

Pillows lined the inside of the tent. Queen Thorn, Princess Sunny, and other dragons Roman didn’t recognize were sitting around it, engrossed in their own conversations. He counted at least five dragons before Thorn started to speak.

“Prince Roman? I must say, I’m curious to see why you’ve come.” Thorn waved the guard away before giving Roman her full attention.

“Well,” Roman started. “We are here to inquire about Queen Grandeur’s… assassination.” He could feel the stare of several sets of eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Thorn’s, waiting for a reply.

“Sunny,” Thorn said, standing up. “Stay here and continue with things until I return.”

Sunny looked up at her mother. “But-” she was silenced by Thorn’s stern stare.

Thorn swept past them and beckoned for them to follow her. Roman and Logan followed the Queen back into the palace, entering the first empty room they came across.

Thorn spun around to face them.  “Let’s get down to business.” she looked at them, narrowing her eyes. “Why do you want to ask about Grandeur’s… death? If you’re thinking about going after the assassin, I can’t help you.”

“That’s alright, Your Majesty.” Roman said, dipping his head. “All I ask is that you tell us where you acquired the black box that was in the meeting room on that day.”

“What black-Oh.” Thorn’s eyes widened in realization. She pushed past them, beckoning them to follow. 

“While I can’t tell you where it came from, I can take you to see it.” She led them through brightly lit passages, a few that were somewhat familiar to him from his previous visits. 

Logan frowned thoughtfully. “If I may ask, why can’t you tell us where it came from? It must have come from somewhere.”

Thorn pushed open the door that led to the meeting room. “It just… appeared one day, and I wasn’t notified about it until after the meeting.” she made her way to the other side of the room toward the box, chuckling. “I’m afraid my Outclaws are too used to dealing with problems on their own.”

No one told the queen? What kind of guards are they? He quickly dismissed the thought. It wasn’t his problem if the guards here were unreliable.

Roman leaned closer to the box, inspecting it. It was black, with seven clasps on it, five on the front and one on either side. Thirteen diamond shaped pieces of silver lined the edge of the top of the box, with a single red gem embedded in the center. It was a very beautiful box, and Roman took note of its fine craftsmanship.

Roman cautiously opened the box, almost expecting another snake to jump out of it, but fortunately, it was empty. The inside of the box was bare except for the tiny snake scales that were scattered around the interior. He suppressed a shudder, then felt silly for being scared. The snake was dead, after all.

Logan stared at the box with wide eyes, adjusting his glasses. “You say it just appeared here? Has anyone tried moving it out of this room?”

Thorn nodded. “I was told that someone attempted to, but it would always appear here, no matter where they put it.”

“Do you think someone was moving it? Someone that was in the palace?” Logan asked. 

“If you’re suggesting that one of my SandWings is the assassin,” Thorn said. “It’s impossible. Every single SandWings is and has been accounted for. No one had the opportunity to fly across the continent without anyone noticing.”

“Maybe no one here is the assassin, but someone could be helping them. There could be multiple assassins, for all we know,” Logan said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Thorn patted Logan on the shoulder. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Though I will keep a careful eye out for any traitors.”

Roman sighed. “So that’s it? We’ve hit a dead end?” the box was their only hope. If it didn’t lead anywhere…

“Actually, there is someone you can go talk to,” Thorn said. “I’m hesitant to tell you this, but there’s a dragon that lives on one of the islands in the Bay of a Thousand Scales. This dragon can see the future, like a NightWing, but he’s more likely to help you than Queen Voidwalker is. She hasn’t been very kind to visitors lately.”

Roman frowned. “So we’re looking for a NightWing?”

Thorn smiled. “Not exactly. You’ll see.” she headed out of the room. “I might have a map somewhere that leads to his exact location…”

Roman hesitated as she left the room. “How do you think she knows about this… seer?”

Logan shrugged. “She lived in the Scorpion Den for most of her life, remember? She most likely knows about many of Pyrrhia’s… special dragons.”

“Oh, right.” Roman replied. He vaguely remembered reading something about that in one of his classes he had as a dragonet.

As they followed Thorn down the hall, Roman wondered if they were headed toward another dead end.

.

“Do you recall what Thorn said? About the box moving on its own?”

“Hmm?” Roman replied. They had been flying over the desert for hours, and the rainforest was just within sight. He was so tired he felt like he could fall asleep up here in the air.

“What?” Frost shrieked from behind them. “A teleporting box? Why does no one tell me these things?”

Logan ignored her. “I don’t think a dragon was moving it.

Roman twisted around to look at him. “Then what do you think it is?”

Logan’s eyes were down, watching the ground pass by them as they flew over it. “I think… I think it might be animus magic.”

“Animus magic? Like from the stories?” Roman vividly recalled reading a scroll about the wonders and dangers of animus magic. It was said that animus dragons could do anything they wanted, the only boundaries being their imaginations. The price of such power, however, was their souls. With each spell they cast, a part of their soul would be lost. Eventually, their soul would deteriorate until they went insane.

 Roman had never liked those stories.

Logan nodded. “I know it sounds unreasonable, but it is a possibility that we cannot overlook.”

“So you think the assassin is an animus dragon?” Frost asked. It was only there for a second, but for a moment, Frost looked… terrified. The moment passed, however and the scowl was back on her face.

“It is the only explanation that makes sense,” Logan said, “How else could the assassin move across the continent without being spotted? How else could they kill without leaving a trace?”

No one had a reply to that. Roman tugged on the edge of his sash nervously, feeling sick. If he had to kill an animus, he might as well go back to the Sky Kingdom and face Queen Scarlet’s wrath. Then, at least his death would entertain someone.

But he knew Logan- and maybe even Frost- would keep searching, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he had grown fond of the strange RainWing, and he knew he would always feel a lingering guilt if anything happened to the snarky IceWing.

They flew on in silence, save for the occasional sigh or muttering. Just as Roman felt like he was about to drop out of the sky, Logan called for a rest. They had just made it to the edge of the rainforest, and the cool shade was a welcome change from the unbearable heat of the desert. The sun was about to set, washing everything in a purple and blue glow.

“I’ll take first watch,” Frost said as soon as they found a suitable clearing to sleep in. Trees and other foliage surrounded it, and a small lake occupied a corner. “I’m not that tired anyway.”

“Absolutely not,” Logan snapped. “I’ll take the first watch. Seeing as I am familiar with the rainforest already, I believe I am better suited to look out for potential dangers.”

Frost snorted. “That’s rich, especially because you’re not even-”

Logan shot her a death glare, effectively silencing her. Roman looked at both of them in confusion. “Not even what? Am I missing something?” he wasn’t sure what Frost was going to say, but judging by Logan’s reaction, it was probably offensive.

Logan looked at him in surprise, “You… mean you don’t know?”

He tilted his head. “Don’t know what?”

Frost stifled a snicker. “Well, isn’t this awkward.”

Logan growled at her, but returned his gaze to Roman’s. “I thought- I thought everybody knew.”

Roman looked at the ground, embarrassed. “Well, SkyWing dragonets-especially royalty-aren’t really taught anything about the other tribes. Everything I do know about the other tribes are from scrolls Remus used to sneak into our room.”

The RainWing looked up at him. “So...you don’t know that I am half IceWing?”

Roman gaped at him. “You- you’re a hybrid?”

“Well,” Logan said. “I never knew my parents, but since I cannot change the color of my scales and my venom is… icier than regular venom, I always assumed that I was half IceWing.”

“We were taught that Logan’s… existence was a mistake.” she narrowed her eyes at him. “That hybrids were a mistake.” 

Logan snarled. “Well, clearly they were wrong. I am an advisor to the queen and a respected member of her court.” his voice caught on the word ‘queen’. “I don’t think any mistake could accomplish that.”

Roman quickly changed the subject, sensing a fight was about to break out. “So you’re half IceWing? What else can you do?” In the stories he’d read, there weren’t many hybrids, so he was curious to see what they could do.

“Well, my ice venom and camouflage abilities seem to be the only things that were altered.” he glanced down at his body. “Although I have been told that I seem to radiate cold like SandWings radiate heat.”

Roman clasped his talons together. “Can you show us your ice venom?”

Logan gave him a sharp look. “Maybe later. For now, you need to rest. You barely slept last night.” 

He suddenly realized how weary he felt. He slumped to the ground, feeling his eyes start to close. “Alright, but… wake me for…”

He was asleep before he could finish his sentence.

   .

Roman woke up to cold water being dumped on his head.

His eyes snapped open. “Hey! Unnecessary!” he sat up, shaking out his soaked claws. “You got my sash wet!” he wailed, taking it off and wringing it out.

Frost rolled her eyes, shaking the water off her tail. “You’ll live.”

Roman grumbled, taking the tiny cloth he had brought with him out of his bag and started drying himself. “So where’s Logan?”

“He said he was going to go find us some food,” she said, sharpening her claws on a rock. “He’s been gone for most of the morning, actually.” she paused for a moment. “He seemed… angry.”

He looked up from his sash, surprised. “Logan left you alone? While I was sleeping?”

Frost kept her eyes on her rock. “I was surprised too. Guess he trusted me not to kill you in your sleep. Even after I was about to insult him about his heritage.” she barked out a humorless laugh. “I may have left the IceWings, but I still act like them.”

Roman set down his cloth, thinking. He wasn’t the best at solving these kinds of problems, but Logan had seemed upset when she made that comment. And Frost said that Logan seemed angry earlier.

“I’m sure that if you go apologize to Logan, everything will be fine,” he said, unsure if Logan would accept an apology.

Frost opened her mouth to reply, but just then, the bushes around the clearing trembled. Logan stumbled out of them, holding various fruits. He let them spill out of his arms and onto the ground, panting.

Roman widened his eyes. “Woah. That is a lot of fruit.”

“I apologize for taking so long. I haven’t gone fruit gathering in… a very long time.” Logan said, sitting down and readjusting his glasses.

Frost poked one of the fruits, looking like she was still contemplating their conversation. “Is this a papaya?” she asked.

Logan eyed her. “That one is actually a mango.”

Frost nodded and picked up a banana. She peeled it and took a bite, wrinkling her nose at the taste. Roman picked a talonful of clementines and started to peel them while Logan put the rest of the fruit in his bag, explaining that he had already eaten on the way back.

As they ate, Logan glanced up at the trees worriedly. “We should hurry,” he said. “I don’t think the RainWings will be hostile, but I would rather we not run into any.”

They finished their meal quickly and set out for the Bay of a Thousand Scales. They skirted around the RainWing village, lying low until they were far enough to fly away. Around midday, they found themselves on the coast, looking out to sea.

 Logan pulled out the map Thorn gave them, studying it closely. “So the seer is on this island,” Logan said, pointing to a spot marked with a black circle. It was close to the Mud Kingdom, but there were still hundreds of islands to search.

“How are we supposed to find one island among all the other ones?” Frost complained. “It’s called the Bay of a Thousand Scales for a reason.”

Logan waved his talon for silence. “Don’t worry everyone.” he pointed at the seer’s island. “Do you see that strange looking rock? We can use that as a landmark.”

Frost still looked doubtful. “A rock that is very easy to miss.”

“Well, it is the only thing we have to go on,” Logan said stiffly, rolling up the map and stuffing it back into Roman’s bag. He took off into the sky, lashing his tail.

Frost looked at him with an unreadable expression before lifting off the ground, leaving Roman alone.

He sighed, hanging his bag around his neck. He made sure that it was secure before joining his companions in the air. 

They flew for a few hours, searching each island from the sky carefully. Logan had his eyes fixed on the map, almost flying straight into trees and birds on several occasions. Roman had started the search with hope, sure that they would find the island in no time. But as time went on and the sun crawled closer to the horizon, he grew weary. They had searched what felt like hundreds of islands and they still hadn’t found the seer.

Just as Roman was about to give up hope, Frost yelped in surprise and pointed at one of the islands below. A rock stood on the island, identical to the one on the map. Down on the sand, a hooded figure sat and stared up at them. He was standing in front of a small wooden house. It was too dark to see what tribe the mysterious dragon was from, but there was no doubt in Roman’s mind that they were the seer.

The trio touched down on the sand, the water lapping at their talons. They climbed up the hill toward the seer, stumbling and getting sand between their claws. After almost falling flat on his face for the third time, Roman vowed that he wouldn’t step into any place with sand ever again.

“Sand isn’t that bad,” the seer said suddenly. “You get used to it after a while.”

Roman stepped in front of him, blinking. It was as if this dragon had read his mind, but that couldn’t be right. Thorn hadn’t mentioned-

“Looks like someone gave you incomplete information,” the seer interrupted. “Yes, I can read minds.” Of course he’s a mind reader, Roman thought. Figures. The seer put his hood down, interrupting Roman’s train of thought.

His scales were black at first glance, but as Roman looked closer, he could see purple scales under his eyes and going down his neck. They glowed faintly in the dark. Huge webs not unlike a SeaWing’s started near his horns and ran down his back, where they disappeared under his hoodie. Spider webs were tattooed on the membrane of his wings, though they were hard to see under the moonlight.

Frost and Logan stepped up beside him, eyeing the seer warily. Frost took one look at him and growled, “Thorn led us to a mindreader? You really can’t trust a SandWing.”

The seer gave her an unfriendly stare. “You might want to tone down the aggression there, Frosty.” he growled. “You’re already standing on thin ice.”

“You look like you were expecting us,” Roman said. “Did you have a vision?”

The seer chuckled. “No, you were flying around for most of the day. You can’t really miss golden wings that obnoxious.”

“Hey!” Roman squawked, glancing at his wings. Even in the dark, they glowed. “My wings are not obnoxious!”

The seer quirked a brow. “Riiight. Anyway, what’s your name?”

“I’m Roman,” he offered. “What’s your name? What tribe are you from?”

The seer turned his gaze back to Roman. He tilted his head, as if listening to something. He smirked at Roman’s confused expression.

“Virgil,” the seer said at last. “My name is Virgil. And well, I’m sure you can guess what tribe I’m from.”

Roman stared at him. “You look like a NightWing, but those webs…” he gasped. “Are you half SeaWing?”

Virgil nodded, smirking. “You got it faster than I thought you would. Good for you.”

“Virgil,” Logan interrupted, as Roman huffed indignantly. “We’re here to-”

Virgil held up a talon. “I know why you’re here, and the answer is no. I have not had any visions, and no, I am not going with you.”

Roman shook his head, looking at him in dismay. “But we haven’t even told you what we’re here for! Just let us explain!” No! He’s our only hope!

“You don’t need to. You forget you’re talking to a mindreader.” Virgil looked at him sympathetically. “You can stay for the night, but you should go in the morning. I don’t want to get caught up in this.”

Roman dug his claws into the ground, ripping up a plant from its roots. “So that’s it?” he roared suddenly, causing Frost to flinch and shrink away from him. “We came all this way to see you, and you won’t even let us explain? Won’t even try?”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m not willing to put my life on the line to catch some stupid assassin!” Virgil shouted back, surprising him. Virgil turned to the small wooden house, taking deep breaths. 

Logan cleared his throat. “How about we sort this out in the morning?” he asked hesitantly. “We’re all tired, and perhaps a good night’s rest will be beneficial.”

Virgil nodded, his back still turned to them. “All right,” he said softly. “Once you enter the house, go in the room on the left. That’s where you’ll be sleeping for the night.”

Virgil went around to the back of the hut without another word.

The three were silent for a moment.

“I think you made him mad,” Frost commented, breaking the silence.

“Oh, really? Thank you for telling me, Frost, I wouldn’t have noticed.” Roman yelled, still fuming. Frost stepped back and hissed. It didn’t occur to him until much later that she had looked angry, but also… fearful.

“Let’s just go and get some rest,” Logan interjected, leading them into the house. “It has been a very long day.”

The room they had been given was small, with two pieces of cloth on the floor to sleep on. “We have to sleep on these?” Roman hissed.

“I’m sorry they aren’t up to your standards, Your Highness.” Frost spat from the other side of the room. “Do you want me to go find you some polar bear fur to sleep on? Perhaps some sheeps’ wool? Or maybe you’d prefer eagle feathers?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Roman shot back.

“Enough,” Logan ordered, stepping between the fighting dragons. “Stop it, you two. You can work it out in the morning, just let me sleep for Moons’ sake.”

Frost snarled at him one last time before curling up on the floor, her back turned to him. Roman glared and laid on the piece of cloth, trying to a comfortable position. The room could fit two dragons comfortably, but with three, it was cramped. After much shuffling around, Roman settled on laying on his side with Logan’s tail poking his back. The cold radiating off of Frost’s scales made him shiver.

Maybe we can convince Virgil in the morning, He thought hopefully, but he doubted it. He had seemed pretty adamant in his decision. 

Roman wondered what he would do if he couldn’t convince Virgil to come with them. Look for Remus, he thought, determined. Brother, please be alive. I still need to find you.

Please. 

.

Virgil didn’t usually get angry. That night had been an exception. 

He opened the back door, stepped inside, then closed it quietly. A pair of blue eyes greeted him.

“Are you okay?” Patton asked. “I heard shouting outside.”

Virgil avoided his gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine. They’re sleeping in the other room, but they’ll be gone in the morning.”

Patton fiddled with his tiny bag and fluttered his wings nervously. “The one you were talking to sounded desperate.”

Virgil began to take his hoodie off, careful not to tear it. “He was desperate,” he said, moving over to the spot on the floor where he slept. “But it’s not my problem.”

Patton nodded hesitantly from his spot on the bed. “I just… wish we could do more to help.” he pulled a small rock out from his bag and began to fiddle with it. 

Virgil turned his back to the bed so Patton couldn’t see his expression.

I do too.  

  .

Virgil woke up feeling more anxious than usual. He could hear both mental and verbal voices from the other side of the house. Patton sat up and yawned, feeling around for his glasses. Virgil got up and handed them to him, already moving across the room to put his hoodie on.

Patton hummed as he got up to leave the room. “Do you mind if I go whip something up for our guests?” he asked, pausing in the doorway. “I think we have some fruit left over from that RainWing market.”

“Yeah, sure,” Virgil said, “But aren’t they going to notice that you’re… different?”

“What, that I look nothing like any tribe that lives on this continent?” he smiled, brandishing his butterfly-like wings. “I think I’ll be fine.”

As Virgil got ready, he listened to the conversation outside his room.

“Does that dragon have four wings or am I just sleep deprived?” that was the IceWing speaking.

“Frost, you got plenty of sleep last night,” said the RainWing (Or IceWing? Virgil wasn’t sure. His mind was confusing)

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean.”

“I do have four wings. I’m a SilkWing!” Patton interjected. “I’m from the other continent, across the ocean.”

Virgil winced as the RainWing’s brain was suddenly filled with questions. Another continent? Across the ocean? SilkWing?

“How did you get here?” asked the RainWing.

“Oh, I came here on a boat and shipwrecked on this island,” Patton replied sadly. “Virgil found me and gave me shelter while I recovered.”

Frost sighed. “Royal assassins, teleporting boxes, and now a dragon from another continent?” he heard the spikes on her back clatter. “Sure, why not?”

“But… why did you come here?” the RainWing asked.

He could hear Patton’s voice drop. “Well, on my continent, SilkWings aren’t treated fairly. My sister eventually convinced me to find this continent and get help, but… now I have no way to go back.”

An awkward silence followed soon after.

Virgil decided to announce himself before things got even more awkward. All eyes turned to him as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Virgil!” Patton greeted cheerfully.

“Good morning,” the RainWing said, dipping his head. “I don’t think I introduced myself last night. My name is Logan.”

Logan elbowed the IceWing in the side. “Ow!” she yelped, jumping away from him. “What was that for?”

You are seriously asking to get bitten, she thought angrily.

“Introduce yourself!” Logan hissed in what he probably thought was a quiet voice.

“Fine, fine,” she said, turning to Virgil. “My name’s Frost. Happy?” she hissed the last word to Logan.

Virgil nodded to both of them uncertainly before turning to Patton, who was peeling various fruits and setting them into wooden bowls. “How much food is left?”

Patton finished with the fruit and turned to wash his talons in a bucket of water. “This is the last of it. We’ll have to go to the market soon.” he jerked his head toward the table where Logan and Frost stood awkwardly. “I’m just getting finished here. Why don’t you join the others?”

Virgil sighed and went to wait by the table. He took a seat and gestured for the others to do the same.

“Soooo,” Frost said casually as she sat in the chair opposite Virgil. “You know about the assassin?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Of course I have. I don’t live under a rock.”

Right, of course. He’s a seer... And a mindreader, Frost glanced at him distrustfully. He smirked in response.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject. “Where’s your prince friend?”

“I’m right here.”

Roman was standing in the doorway of the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. He barely spared Virgil a glance before sitting next to Logan.

Virgil frowned. The night before, Roman’s mind was just like any others: laid out in front of him and easy to read. Maybe not as easy to read as Logan’s or Frost’s, but not too difficult either. Now, it was all muddled and… blocked off. Just like mother’s was. He quickly pushed the thought away.

“Breakfast is ready!” Patton sang, interrupting his train of thought. A bowl of fruit was dropped in front of each dragon.

Roman blinked at the SilkWing. “Who are you? Are you some sort of hybrid?”

“I’m Patton!” Patton replied. “And no, I’m not a hybrid, exactly…”

Virgil shifted his focus to Roman as Patton started to explain where he came from. His expression was tired, and his shoulders were tense.

Roman caught him staring and Virgil looked away quickly.

“So, what’re you planning to do now?” Patton asked as they ate.

Evidently, this was the wrong question to ask. Frost choked on her fruit and tried to cover it up with a cough. Logan looked to Roman with a raised brow. Virgil didn’t need to read his mind to know he was thinking Yeah, what are we going to do?

Roman looked trapped, and Virgil was surprised to see that he sympathized with him. He looked down at his food and avoided the gaze of everyone at the table.

“We’ll figure something out,” was Roman’s reply. Patton widened his eyes as if just realizing his mistake, but said nothing.

The table was silent for a long, awkward moment.

“So,” Frost mused, nodding at Patton. “What’s that rock for?”

“Oh, this?” Patton held up the small black rock he’d been fiddling with. “It’s…”

He looked to Virgil, uncertain. He hesitated, then nodded.

“It’s called skyfire,” Patton continued. “And it can block mind reading.”

Frost almost choked on her food again. She coughed and asked, “You didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

“It won’t matter,” Virgil said. “You won’t be around mindreaders for a while.” 

He pretended not to notice Roman’s talons curling into fists.

Logan leaned forward. “Hypothetically, if someone wanted to obtain some of this skyfire, where would they find it?”

“Well, if they were to, hypothetically, ask me,” Virgil replied. “They wouldn’t get an answer.”

The clouds around Roman’s mind cleared enough for Virgil to hear, He literally couldn’t get any more annoying.

“Careful, Princey,” Virgil said, smirking. “I don’t think you want me as an enemy.”

Roman clenched his fists but said nothing. They finished the meal in silence.

A few minutes later, Virgil and Patton were standing on the sand to see Roman, Logan, and Frost off.

“Thank you for letting us stay the night,” Logan said gratefully, dipping his head.

Virgil nodded back. “It was really no problem, but,” he added in a hushed tone, “I’m… sorry that I couldn’t help more, it’s just-”

“It’s fine, we understand.” Logan glanced at Roman. “Well, most of us do, anyway.”

As Logan went to join the others, Virgil turned to walk back into the house. Before he could, however, he felt a tug on his hoodie sleeve and the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric.

“Hey! You tore my hoodie!” Virgil yelped, glaring at the dragon who tore it, which turned out to be Roman.

Roman widened his eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to ask-”

Virgil shoved Roman away, but he suddenly felt dizzy. He stumbled, and Roman caught him.

“Woah, are you alright?” he turned around to yell something, but Virgil could barely hear him as images started to flood his brain.

The five of them, trapped in a snowstorm.

The Queen of the IceWings laying dead in the Ice Palace, blue blood trickling from multiple cuts on her throat.

Virgil turning a corner to see a wingless SandWing holding out a talon to him. He pulled something out of his cloak, and upon further inspection, he realized it was an earring shaped like a rose.

And, probably the worst of them, Patton laying dead on the ground, a pool of blood slowly growing around his head.

“-gil? Virgil, are you okay?”

Virgil was crouching down, talons clutching his head. Patton was gripping his shoulders and shaking him gently. “Was that- did you just have a vision?”

He struggled to push the images out of his mind. He focused on pulling himself up on his talons, digging his claws into the sand to keep from swaying. He stared at Patton, almost expecting to see him covered in blood. He shook his head and turned to Roman.

“Looks like you’re getting what you want,” he said in a low voice, moving to stand in front of Roman. “I’m coming with you.”

.

“Virgil, I think I got everything packed!” Patton called, poking his head through the doorway.

Virgil almost dropped the skyfire he was packing for the others. “I never said you were coming with us.”

Patton frowned, entering the room fully. “But… I want to come.”

He shook his head. “No, Patton. I don’t want you risking your life coming with me.”

Patton’s frown deepened. “So you want me to stay here? Alone?”

“Yes,” Virgil said firmly. “You’ll be safer here.”

Patton crossed his arms. “Virgil, what happened in your vision? Did you see something that made you want to keep me here?”

Your dead body was laid out in front of me and I could do nothing about it, and I don’t want to do that, not again, he thought. He continued putting pieces of skyfire in tiny leather bags instead of replying.

Patton brushed his wing with Virgil’s. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. But,” he added. “I still want to go with you. That way you could keep an eye on me, right? And… maybe I could find a way home.”

Virgil finally met the SilkWing’s eyes and saw that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He sighed in defeat. “Fine. You can come.”

“Yay!” Patton cheered, throwing his arms around him. “Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, whatever.” he said, pulling away quickly. “I knew you would find a way to come anyway.”

Patton smiled mischievously. “I would have!”

As Patton left and Virgil finished packing, he hoped he didn’t just make a terrible decision.

.

“Roman, are you sure about this?” Frost asked, shielding herself from the sun with her wings. “Because I’m pretty sure Virgil hates you.”

“I’m not sure that we have a choice,” Roman muttered.

“Perhaps you should not have yelled at him last night,” Logan commented. He was barely focusing on the conversation, instead looking out to sea and frowning.

“Yeah, maybe,” Frost muttered bitterly.

Roman blinked at her in confusion before realizing what she meant. He widened his eyes. “Oh! Frost, I am so sorry for yelling at you last night. Please forgive me.” he bowed his head, looking up at her.

Frost looked at him in surprise for a moment before breaking into a smile and punching him in the shoulder.

“Ouch!” he yelped, rubbing the spot where she hit him. “What was that for?”

“There, now we’re even. But,” the smile fell. “I’m sorry for yelling too.” she glanced at him. “And you’re forgiven, I guess.”

Roman grinned and wrapped his arms and wings around Frost. “Thank you! I forgive you too!”

“Ugh, okay, that’s enough.” she wriggled out of the hug. 

“Speaking of apologies.” Frost turned to Logan, who narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry for insulting you that night in the rainforest. It- it won’t happen again. I promise.”

Logan regarded her for a moment before nodding slowly. “Thank you, Frost. That… means a lot.” he looked at his talons. “And… I’m sorry for not trusting you.”

Frost waved a talon dismissively. “It’s fine. I would have done the same thing.”

“If all of you are done,” Virgil called from behind them as he walked out of the house. “We’re ready to leave.”

He produced two small leather bags and handed them to Logan and Frost. “Skyfire,” Virgil explained. “If we’re going to be travelling together, I don’t want to hear your yapping the entire time.” he turned to Roman and shoved a piece of skyfire into the bag that hung around his neck.

“So, where are we headed to now?” Frost asked, securing the bag around her wrist.

“The Ice Kingdom,” Virgil replied. 

Frost tensed and let out a string of curses that made Patton wince. “I just escaped that hell and you want me to go back?” she demanded.

Virgil stepped back, holding up his talons. “Hey, I’m just the seer.”

Logan rested a claw on Frost’s shoulder for a brief moment. “We’ll need a guide if we want to survive, and I promise we’ll be quick. Please, Frost.”

After much grumbling, shouting, and reassuring, they finally managed to calm Frost down and start to fly west toward the Ice Kingdom. 

“Hey, Roman?” Frost asked tentatively.

Roman turned to face her, frowning. She had been silent the entire time, and he wondered why she sounded so nervous. “Yes? What do you need?”

“Don’t you think Virgil’s kind of… strange?” she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Like, yesterday he really didn’t want to come with us, but today he suddenly changed his mind? What makes me more suspicious is that he won’t tell anyone what was in his visions. Not even Patton.”

“What, you asked him?”

Frost winced. “Yeah. He didn’t seem to appreciate the question very much.”

“Well, he’s our only option.” Roman sighed. “Believe me, I would rather beg Queen Voidwalker for help then this.”

Frost nodded hesitantly. “I’ll be keeping an eye on him, then.”

I am curious about him, Roman thought, staring at Virgil. How has he lived there for so long without Queen Coral knowing? Why is he suddenly so eager to help?

After a little while of flying, they entered the Mud Kingdom. “We should stop and rest for a bit,” Frost called, pointing to the swamps below. “We won’t get many places to stop before we reach the Sky Kingdom.”

The Sky Kingdom. Roman’s eyes were fixed on the distant mountains as they landed among the low trees. I’m going back to the Sky Kingdom, even if I’m just passing through. Why am I so nervous?

“Feeling homesick, Princey?” Virgil said, making him jump.

Roman squinted at the distant peaks and didn’t answer. Did he miss his home? He wanted to say yes, that he longed for the grand halls and the vast rooms of the Sky Palace, that his heart ached to be among his tribe, but… he didn’t. He didn’t want to know what that meant.

“Hey Roman, you got any food?” Frost called from the other side of the clearing, interrupting his train of thought.

Roman checked his bag and pulled out some fruit. “Just some clementines, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you mean clawmentines, Roman?” Patton giggled at his own joke.

Roman chuckled at the pun as Frost groaned. He also didn’t miss how Virgil stifled a snort.

“If I am correct, which I am,” Logan interrupted, pulling the map out of Roman’s bag, “We should be at the Diamond Spray Delta.”

Roman leaned over the map. “So we follow the Diamond Spray River until we reach the mountains?”

“That’s right.” Logan nodded at him. “And from there, Roman can guide us through SkyWing territory.”

Roman tugged at his sash. “We’ll have to be careful.”

“Why?” Patton asked. “Aren’t you a Prince there? Isn’t this your kingdom?”

“It’s… complicated,” he replied. “All you need to know is that Queen Scarlet tasked me with finding the assassin, and to not come back until they were dead.” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I don’t think we want to find out what happens if we get caught.” At Patton’s expression, he quickly added. “But you all are under my protection! I will not let any harm come to you during this journey!”

Frost leaned over to whisper to Logan, “How long do you think that statement can hold up? A sunrise?”

Virgil snickered. “Good one, Frosty!”

The IceWing narrowed her eyes. “Don’t call me Frosty.”

Roman huffed indignantly. “I’ll have you know that I have been training to fight for practically my entire life!”

“So have I!” Frost exclaimed, turning to Roman. “You’re not special!”

Everyone started to laugh at that. Roman managed to keep the pout on his face for a few moments before breaking into a laugh as well.

After everyone had rested, they continued to follow the Diamond Spray river. By nightfall, they had reached the base of the mountains. A valley was laid out in front of them, surrounded by the peaks. In the distance, the Sky Palace glowed with the light of hundreds of torches. He wondered what Queen Scarlet was doing. He hoped she wasn’t angry. He hoped Ruby was okay.

“We should head west in the morning,” Roman said, pointing in a direction opposite the Sky Palace. “And then north, I think.”

“You think?” Virgil said skeptically. “So glad our guide has so much confidence.”

“Oh, would you like to try to guide us through SkyWing territory?” Roman snapped. “If so, be my guest.”

Virgil widened his eyes apologetically, but Roman was already turning away. He wasn’t sure why he was so angry, but he suspected it had something to do with being so close to the Sky Palace. And Queen Scarlet. He shuddered.

“So,” Virgil said casually, attempting to break the tension. “Why did Queen Scarlet choose you specifically to find the assassin?”

Roman took a deep breath as he thought about what to say. Finally, he decided on, “My guess? Queen Scarlet wants me out of the way. Maybe I offended her. Or bored her.” he could feel anger rising in his chest, and he quickly stamped it down. 

“Really?” Virgil sounded shocked. “I knew Queen Scarlet was bad, but… she would really do that? To her own son?”

He felt the anger grow until it spilled over and he snapped. “My mother has killed eleven of my sisters, Virgil. What makes you think she has any love for her sons?”

Patton reached to him. “Roman-”

“I’m going to go find some kindling for the fire,” he announced, cutting Patton off. “I won’t be long.”

He could feel the others’ gaze on him as he flew into the dark forest. “You screwed up,” he heard Frost say. He didn’t hear Virgil’s reply.

Roman spent the next hour angrily ripping branches off of trees and dumping them in a pile to collect later. He attempted to rip a twig off of a tree but got slapped in the face. He growled and set the tree on fire, watching it burn for a moment before stomping back to the pile of branches.

I didn’t know she was that bad. Virgil’s words echoed in his mind. The fact that anyone could think Queen Scarlet had an ounce of mercy in her body made him want to set the entire forest on fire. He squeezed his eyes shut and dug his claws into the ground. He tried to calm himself down. 

It wasn’t his fault. He thought to himself. He couldn’t have possibly known. I shouldn’t have snapped at him.

Maybe apologizing to Virgil for snapping would make him feel better. He nodded to himself. Yes, that was what he was going to do.

Roman scooped up the wood in his arms and set out to find the camp. By the time he found the others, everyone was asleep except for Virgil. He tossed the branches into the middle of the clearing and breathed fire onto the pile, watching them burn.

The two of them stood on opposite sides of the fire awkwardly.

Virgil sighed. “I’m really sorry for what happened earlier. I should have known that my question was treading on sensitive territory.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “So, um, sorry.”

Roman blinked at him, caught off guard. He didn’t expect Virgil to be the one apologizing. “Oh, um, thank you for the apology.” he looked down at his claws. “I’m sorry too. For yelling at you.”

Virgil nodded, acknowledging the apology. He fiddled with the strings of his hoodie nervously. “So, are we...cool?”

Roman smiled. He realized he enjoyed Virgil’s presence a lot more when they weren’t fighting. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

They fell into a silence again, though not as awkward this time. The fire crackled warmly, and Roman felt relaxed for the first time in days.

“What did you want to ask me?” Virgil asked suddenly.

“Sorry?”

“That day on the island, when you were about to leave,” he explained. “When you tore my hoodie.”

Roman winced. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Virgil waved a talon. “It’s fine, I can fix it. What I want to know is what you wanted to ask me.”

Roman thought about it for a moment before suddenly remembering. He braced himself before speaking. “I wanted to ask if you’ve seen my brother in any of your visions.” his heart was hammering in his chest and his talons were clenched into fists,, as if he suddenly realized that he might not want to know the answer.

Virgil shook his head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen him.”

Roman’s claws dug into his palm. He was dimly aware of the way his breathing turned shallow and the way his eyes burned with unshed tears. No. No, he couldn’t be…

Then, without warning, Virgil was beside him, coaching him through a breathing exercise. “In for four… hold it for seven, then out for eight. That’s it, Princey.”

It took a few tries, but eventually, Roman calmed down. Virgil moved away, coughing awkwardly, but stayed within arm’s reach. He was silent for a moment. “You know,” he began, “My seer powers aren’t the strongest. Even if I didn’t see your brother, he could still be alive.”

Roman rubbed his eyes. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Virgil gave him a small smile, a far cry from the scowl he usually wore. Roman suddenly wanted nothing more than for Virgil to keep smiling at him.

“Thank you,” Roman said, taking a deep breath. “I… really needed that.”

“No problem, Princey,” Virgil replied. “Just don’t make a habit out of it.”

The prince chuckled. “I’ll try my best.”

They sat in comfortable silence until he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He yawned, and Virgil nodded to the spot where the others were sleeping. “You should get some rest. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

Roman was too tired to protest. He laid his head on his talons and closed his eyes.

“Or you could just fall asleep there. That works too.” Virgil’s soothing voice was the last thing he heard before he sank into the depths of sleep.

.

The next morning, Roman was awoken by roars of anger.

He stood up, immediately dropping into a battle stance. Three SkyWing soldiers stood in front of him, growling. He blinked in surprise. How have they found us already? We should have gone through a different route!

 Beside him, Frost hissed, clouds of frost seeping out of her mouth. On his other side, Virgil rolled up his sleeves, ready to attack.

Behind them, Logan was trying to discreetly hide Patton in the trees. The soldiers haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time. He spread his wings to hide them and snarled, hoping he looked intimidating.

“Prince Roman, how dare you show your face here?” the orange SkyWing in front said, lashing his tail.

“We’re just passing through,” he replied, still not entirely sure what was happening. How had they been found so quickly?

“Your orders were specifically to not come back until you’ve killed the assassin.” he growled back. “Well? Are they dead?”

“N-no, but-”

“Then soldiers, attack!” the SkyWing suddenly roared.

One of the soldiers leaped onto Virgil and they rolled away, clawing and biting at each other. Roman turned to help, but another SkyWing stood in his path, grinning maliciously. He growled and swiped a claw at her, but she dodged and suddenly barreled into him. He collapsed on his side, winded. He quickly rolled out of the way as she brought her spear down. It stuck into the ground where his head was a moment before.

Hissing, Roman got to his feet. He felt his chest warm up before a burst of fire shot out of his mouth. The SkyWing fell face first into it and she flew away, screaming. He watched as she shakily flew away, feeling absolutely awful.

He turned to Frost, intending to help her, but it turned out she didn’t need it. Her attacks were sure and quick, enough to rival Remus. She clawed the SkyWing’s cheek and whirled around, smashing them in the face with her spiked tail. The SkyWing fell to the ground, unconscious. 

He whipped his head around as he heard Virgil cry out, but relaxed when he saw he wasn’t in any danger. Virgil had climbed onto his opponents back and had dug his claws into their scales. The SkyWing finally threw him onto the ground and took off without looking back.

“Is everyone alright?” Roman asked.

“Everything’s good over here,” Virgil called.

“Same here,” Frost added. She glanced down at the unconscious SkyWing. “He’s just knocked out, don’t worry.”

He nodded and turned to the forest, where Logan was helping Patton out of a tree. “Are you two okay?”

Logan nodded as they made their way to them. “We’re fine. We should leave before more SkyWings arrive.”

Roman glanced at the sky. He could hardly believe the SkyWings had found them this quickly. “Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

.

A few minutes later, Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, and Frost made their way into the valley.

They flew close to the ground so they would be harder to spot from the sky. Roman longed to fly among the clouds, to spread his wings as far as they could go and ride the air currents to his heart’s content, but the risk of being caught was too great. He settled for gazing longingly at the distant red and orange silhouettes that drifted lazily across the sky.

They took frequent breaks, to Roman’s dismay. After their fifth stop before midday, Roman grew frustrated.

“Three moons!” he exclaimed as they rested under some trees. “You all are as slow as snails! I could have made it to the Ice Kingdom and back by now!”

“You know why we have to move slowly, Roman,” Logan said. “We have to fly low, or we’ll be caught. And well, none of us are as fast as you.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sorry we can’t keep up with a SkyWing.”

Roman glanced at him curiously, then quickly looked away when he was caught staring. Virgil had barely talked to him since the night before. He wondered what that meant, or if it even meant anything at all.

“Roman does have a point, though,” Frost commented. “At the rate we’re going, the assassin will be long gone by the time we reach the Great Ice Cliff.”

“Well, what can we do?” Logan asked. “My wings aren’t designed to fly long distances.”

“And I’m not used to this much flying. I’ve lived on an island my entire life.” Virgil added.

“Maybe… maybe someone could carry you?” Patton proposed, sounding hesitant.

They all glanced at each other, then back to Patton.

“It could work,” Logan said slowly.

“I guess I could carry one of you,” Frost agreed reluctantly. “I call dibs on Logan.”

Everyone stared at her, wide-eyed. “What?” she said. “He looks like he doesn’t weigh much.”

“Then that leaves me with Virgil. Or Patton?” Roman said.

Patton chuckled. “No, I don’t think I need to be carried. I can take Virgil if you don’t want to, Roman.”

“No, I can do it,” he said with obvious reluctance. “I just want to get to the Ice Kingdom fast.”

“Virgil?” Logan prompted. 

Virgil’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at Roman. “Whatever gets us there the fastest,” he said at last.

And that was how Roman found himself flying toward the Ice Kingdom with Virgil on his back, arms wrapped around his neck.

“I suddenly regret my decision now,” Virgil said in his ear. “Why are we going to fast?” the arms around his neck tightened as Roman put on a burst of speed.

Roman twisted his neck around to look at him and grinned. “You could go with Frost and I can take Logan if you want.”

“So I can be poked by spikes and be freezing to my bones the entire time?” Virgil started to shake his head, but suddenly widened his eyes. “Tree!”

Roman whipped his head around to see that he was indeed about to fly straight into a tree. He stopped right before he hit the trunk, flapping his wings furiously. He hovered in place for a moment, realizing that Virgil had his face in his shoulder and was shaking.

“Virgil? Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Fine!” Virgil yelled in his ear. “I’m fine!”

“What’s wrong? Why’d you stop?” Frost asked from behind them. Patton flew in after her, looking confused.

“Princey almost flew into a tree,” Virgil stated matter-of-factly. His voice shook slightly.

Roman hid his face in his talons. “Only because this emo distracted me!”

“Emo?” Virgil poked his neck hard.

“Ow!”

Patton sighed, adjusting his circular glasses. “If you two won’t get along, then Virgil and Logan can switch places.”

“No!” Virgil and Roman said at the same time. They glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

Logan narrowed his eyes at them. “I’m not sure if I should be offended.”

Frost sighed impatiently. “Alright chatting with all of you was nice can we go now?”

“You were so hesitant to go to the Ice Kingdom before,” Logan observed. “Why are you now so eager to get there?”

Frost clenched her fists. “I just want to get this over with.”

Roman nodded. “Then let’s go.”

.

They flew for the rest of the day before they stopped in a field at the edge of the Sky Kingdom. Roman felt Virgil rest his head against his neck as they descended. 

Roman nudged him with his wing. “You can get off now.” he twisted his neck around and narrowed his eyes at Virgil. “How are you tired?”

Virgil yawned and slid to the ground, stumbling a little until he found his footing. “Well, I’m awake now.”

Roman’s eyes were on the sky, watching Frost, Logan and Patton dive toward them. “Looks like we made it first.”

Frost touched down on the ground, followed by Patton. She dumped Logan unceremoniously onto the ground and sat down, rubbing her shoulders. Logan grunted and sat up, adjusting his glasses.

Logan glanced up at the sky uneasily. “I don’t like it here. We’re too exposed out in a field like this.”

Roman narrowed his eyes at the night sky. Only one moon was full, the other two crescents thin as claws. It was impossible to see if anyone had followed them, even with the light of the moons.

Frost shook out her wings. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” she glanced at Roman. “In the meantime, do you have any food? I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday and it feels like my stomach is going to eat itself.”

Roman dug around in his bag and shook his head. “We finished it all yesterday.”

Virgil sighed. “Well, that settles it. I’m going to go find some food. Roman, you wanna come with?”

“Huh? Why me?” Roman asked, confused. He became even more confused when Virgil started laughing.

“Well, how am I supposed to defend myself, Mr. I Won’t Let Any Harm Come To You?” he replied, smirking. Seeing Roman’s startled and embarrassed expression, he laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

Roman blinked at him. 

Patton glanced between them. “Wait, I’m sure Roman is exhausted-”

“No, I want to go,” Roman said, surprising himself. Sure he was tired, but they needed food, right? One glance at Virgil told him there was more to that, however.

Patton nodded hesitantly. “Just be careful, okay?”

Roman grinned. “We’ll be back before you know it!”

The two of them picked a direction and walked, not wanting to draw attention to themselves by flying.

“I still think those golden wings are obnoxious,” Virgil said as they walked, glancing at his wings.

Roman huffed. “You’re just jealous that your wings aren’t as glorious as mine.”

“At least mine aren’t obnoxious.”

They continued to bicker and joke as they searched for food for about an hour. The only thing Roman caught was a rabbit, and after a while they decided to head back to the others.

As they walked back, Roman grew more and more exhausted. His talons felt as heavy as rocks and his head hung low. He tried not to let it show. One glance at Virgil told him that he wasn’t doing much better.

The sound of shouting coming from the direction of their camp was enough to wake him up, however.

He ran toward the noise without waiting for Virgil. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw flashes of red and orange scales. SkyWings.

“What? What is it?” Virgil whispered.

“SkyWing soldiers,” he replied. He felt more terrified than he had in his life as the SkyWings surrounded the others.

“Who are you?” one of the SKyWings shouted. “What business do you have on SkyWing territory?”

Frost growled, but Logan silenced her. “We’re just passing through. We mean no harm.” 

“Queen Ruby will be the judge of that.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Queen Ruby? What happened to Queen Scarlet?”

“Don’t play dumb, Queen Scarlet was killed by the assassin,” the red SkyWing said. “Now, I’m going to ask again. What are you doing on SkyWing territory?”

Roman gasped and brought a talon to his mouth. Queen Scarlet… dead? He didn’t feel any sorrow, just shock. How did the assassin manage to kill Queen Scarlet?

Frost growled. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”

The red SkyWing glanced at the other soldiers and nodded slightly. The four other SkyWings fanned out, surrounding Frost, Logan, and Patton in moments.

He heard Frost growl, and before he could blink, she leaped at the nearest SkyWing. Two more SkyWings piled on top of her, and when Logan and Patton moved to help, the other two soldiers jabbed their spears at them.

That snapped him out of his shock. He moved forward, but a tug on his arm forced him to stop.

“Roman, no!” Virgil hissed. “I want to help them as much as you do, but if they see you, you get caught, and this entire mission would be for nothing!”

“But they’re in trouble!” Roman hissed desperately. He glanced back at them. Frost was still pinned down by the three SkyWings, and Logan was struggling to hold the other two off. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing!”

Virgil growled in frustration. “Roman, think. You stand no chance against five SkyWings, even with Frost’s help. The rest of us won’t be much help.”

Roman snarled. “I don’t care.” he shook Virgil off and continued forward.

He was suddenly tackled to the ground, face buried in the dirt. He shook his head free of the grit and glanced up at his attacker, who turned out to be Virgil. Virgil spread his wings to cover Roman’s body, eyes on the fight.

He grunted loudly in protest, but Virgil quickly shushed him. He sighed in frustration. From where he was (Quite rudely) shoved into the ground, he couldn’t see anything that was happening. Virgil perching on his back and pushing his head down whenever he tried to see didn’t help.

Virgil suddenly ducked low. Roman could hear his heartbeat quicken.

“What’s going on?” he whispered. “I can’t see anything!” he heard Frost let out a cry of pain and he tensed up. “What was that? Is Frost hurt?”

“T-they started to attack her,” Virgil stammered. “Three of them.”

Roman craned his neck to see, but Virgil pushed him down. He growled in frustration. “Let me help!”

Virgil looked down at him. “If they see you, they’ll take you away, and I don’t want that to happen.” he sounded sincere, which surprised him. Did Virgil genuinely care about what would happen to him?

Roman shook his head. “If I don’t go, Frost will die!” Virgil shushed him, putting a talon on his snout.

Virgil peeked at the fight again. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and it was frustrating. He was about to ask about what was happening again when a scream stopped him.

The scream went on for far longer than he could bear. What kind of pain could cause that?

He heard wingbeats and he looked up. The SkyWings were flying away. What happened? Who screamed?

After a while, Virgil let him up, coughing uncomfortably. “S-sorry about that.”

Roman’s legs still felt shaky. “I- it’s alright. What happened?”

Virgil looked scared, more scared than he had ever seen him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he stepped forward, leaning towards Virgil.

Virgil took a deep breath. “Logan- he used his venom on a SkyWing soldier.”

Roman gasped and stepped back, finally understanding. 

He had only seen RainWing use their venom once, in the arena. It was agonizingly slow, and the SandWing it had been shot at didn’t stop screaming until they were dead.

The fact that Logan would do that to another dragon was… horrifying.

“Roman! Virgil!” Patton shouted from his spot next to Frost. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine!” Roman called back. His gaze landed on Frost, and he gasped. “Frost!” he bounded over to her.

Frost was laying on her side, eyes closed. She lifted her head wearily as they approached.

Roman crouched next to her, tucking his talons underneath him. “Are you alright?”

“Why is everyone asking me that? I’m fine,” she replied as Virgil sat down next to him.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Even so, you should still get some rest.” he eyed the cuts all over her body. “And you should probably get those wounds cleaned.”

“And why do you care?” she snapped suddenly.

“Frost!” Roman gasped as Virgil stared at her, stunned.

“What? He said that he didn’t want to get caught up in this,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows. “And then he gets a headache and suddenly he wants to help us?” she glared at Virgil. “You’re hiding something, and I don’t know if I can trust you if you keep hiding it.”

Virgil looked to Roman for help, but he looked down at his talons. He instantly felt guilty as Virgil took a shaky breath.

“You’re the one who wanted me to come in the first place!” Virgil hissed. Roman flinched at the hostility in his voice. “You were willing to put your trust in me before you even met me. Just… take my word for it.”

Frost narrowed her eyes at him. “I better not end up dead for this, NightWing.”

“I’m not-” Virgil started, but stopped as Roman gave him a pleading look.

“Hey kiddo?” Patton said, standing up. “Let’s go see Logan and see if he’s okay. Roman can take care of Frost, right?” he said, looking at him.

Roman nodded, taking a cloth out of his bag. “These scratches aren’t too bad. They just need to be cleaned.”

As Patton dragged Virgil away, Frost sighed. “I know you trust him, but something feels… off. He’s hiding something, I know it.”

Roman reached to wipe some blood off of her back. “All that matters is that he helps us find the assassin and Remus,” he said.

Frost blinked at him. “Of course.” after a moment, she added. “You know I can do this myself, right?”

Roman shrugged. “Maybe, but at least I feel like I’m doing something. You got hurt while I was hiding. That… wasn’t very princely of me.”

“That’s alright,” she said. “I get it. You didn’t want to get captured.”

“Yeah, but… I hate feeling useless,” he said.

Frost snorted. “Well, if you got caught, then you’d truly be useless.” she yawned as he finished up. “Are you done?”

Roman nodded and smiled. “Yeah. And thank you, Frost.”

Frost hummed. “No problem.”

After everyone had cleaned up, they moved to another spot in case the SkyWings came back. Before long, everyone was settling down for the night, with Virgil keeping watch.

Frost was the first to fall asleep, then Logan, followed by Patton. It took awhile for Roman to fall asleep, his thoughts whirling around his head.

Queen Scarlet was dead. His sister Ruby was now queen.

It terrified him how the assassin had managed to kill the queen of the SkyWings. Eleven of her daughters had tried and failed, and one assassin had succeeded. How?

His thoughts swirled around his head until he finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

.

Roman woke up the next morning feeling absolutely terrible.

His shoulders ached from carrying Virgil for an entire day. His wings cried out in pain at the thought of more flying.

And his brain hurt from thinking about what Frost had said the night before.

Virgil seemed like a decent dragon, but Frost was right. He was hiding something.

His talon hovered his bag, where he kept the skyfire. For all he knew, the skyfire didn’t actually block mind reading.Virgil could be reading their minds right now.

Virgil wouldn’t do that. Roman decided, thinking about how Virgil had comforted him two nights ago. He might be hiding something, but I’m sure he has a good reason.

He shook his head, shifting his focus to something else. If everything went smoothly, they would catch the assassin, and Roman could focus on looking for his brother. He clenched his fists. Yes, he would catch the assassin, then everything would be okay.

“Good morning, Roman,” Frost said, shaking him from his thoughts. She winced, rubbing a scar on her neck.

Roman frowned. “Are you sure you’re up for this? We can wait a few hours if you need it.”

Frost rolled her eyes. “I’m completely fine, quit asking.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. He suspected that she was more tired than she let on, but he was doing the same thing, so he was in no position to judge.

“If you’re sure…” he stood up, helping Frost up as well.

The others had already woken up. “Good morning.” Logan greeted. Virgil nodded in acknowledgment.

Patton looked at Frost worriedly. “Are you sure you don’t want to rest a little longer? We don’t mind waiting.”

Frost sighed. “I am fine, can we move on?”

Roman nodded. “We should start heading north soon. After that, it’s all up to Frosty here.”

Frost ignored the nickname. “It’s going to get really cold,” she said. “Are you sure you still want to go?”

“Yes,” Virgil was the one to reply, to Roman’s surprise. “We need to catch this assassin as soon as possible.”

Frost glared at him, suspicious, and Roman quickly changed the topic to avoid a fight. “I’m sure we can handle a little cold,” he said, gesturing enthusiastically. “Especially with my fire!”

Logan looked doubtful. “You haven’t been to the Ice kingdom. You don’t know how cold it is up there.” noticing the pleading look on Roman’s face, he added, “But we did not have fire the last time I was there, so I am certain we will be fine.”

Frost tore at the grass below her. “Well, if you’re sure…”

Patton frowned. “Frost, you’re acting strange. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “We can figure it out ourselves if we have to.”

“No, no. I...I want to go,” Frost looked up. “It’s just… nevermind. Let’s just go.”

Patton glanced at him uneasily, and he shook his head. “You’re right,” Patton said to her. “We should start flying, in case more SkyWings arrive.”

He turned to Virgil. “Do you need me to carry you, or…?”

Virgil shook his head. “Frost is in no condition to carry anyone, and I think Logan and I can manage.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then let’s get going!”

They continued to fly west, toward the desert. From there, Frost would lead them north, where the Ice Kingdom waited for them.

Roman tried to keep an eye on Frost as they flew, but it proved to be difficult. Everytime she caught him looking at her worriedly, she glared until he looked away.

The fifth time he was caught this, Frost said, “Three moons, if you want to bother someone so badly, go annoy Logan or something.”

Roman tugged at his sash. “But-”

Frost sighed. “I promise I will tell you if I need a break, just stop giving me that look.”

He reluctantly turned to fly alongside Logan, but not before telling Patton to keep an eye on the IceWing.

“How is your shoulder?” Roman asked Logan.

Logan didn’t look at him. “It feels fine, Patton looked at it last night.” he paused for a moment. “Thank you for asking.”

They flew in silence for a few moments.

“I apologize for what happened last night.” Logan said at last. “I realize it must have been… upsetting to see.”

Roman kept his eyes down, watching the desert pass by below them. “I see why you had to do it, but even if they would have taken me back to the Sky Kingdom, they’re still my tribe, Logan.” Before he could change his mind, he added, “Do you regret it?”

“What?”

“Do you regret using your venom on that SkyWing?” he could feel Logan staring at him, be he kept his eyes on the ground.

“I don’t think I do,” Logan replied. “I would have preferred not to use my venom, but that is what ended up happening. They were attacking Frost and Patton. I had no other choice.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

Roman sighed. “I suppose.”

They flew for a little while longer until Patton called for a rest. Roman hadn’t noticed how much his wings ached.

The ground was more rock than sand now, and it was significantly less hot than it was earlier. Even so, it was difficult to believe that the Ice Kingdom bordered the desert. Even harder to believe that the IceWings and SandWings had fought over this barren land years ago.

Virgil paced restlessly. “We should hurry. I don’t want to let the assassin get there first.”

Roman glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Is there a reason you’re so eager to catch the assassin? You were so reluctant before.”

Virgil sighed. “I promise I’ll explain just… not now.”

Roman blinked at him. That was not the answer he expected.

“Well,” Frost huffed, “If Stormcloud here wants to get to the Ice Kingdom quickly, then we should start flying now, right?”

Virgil tilted his head at her. “Stormcloud?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re like, the personification of a dark and stormy night.” she replied, gesturing to his hoodie. “You even have a stormcloud on your hoodie.”

Logan sighed. “Frost is correct, we should leave soon. We should get there by nightfall if we fly swiftly.”

They took off, in the direction of the Ice Kingdom. As they neared the frozen desert, he was reminded of how much they still had to do. There wasn’t a guarantee Queen Glacier would welcome them. And even if they found the assassin, then what? They had no idea where Remus was, and he wasn’t sure Ruby would welcome him back to the Sky Kingdom.

He sighed shakily, and Patton glanced at him worriedly. “You okay, kiddo?” he asked.

Roman thought about that question. He thought about what Logan had said and about Remus. He thought about the assassin and about what Ruby must be thinking of him at that moment.

“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m okay.”

.

Roman was cold.

Cold wasn’t a strong enough word to describe it. He could feel it seeping through his skin and wrapping around his bones. He could feel it enter his throat as he breathed, ripping through his lungs. The very concept of warmth escaped him, as if it was a world away.

The only comfort he had was Virgil pressed to his side, his thin, wiry frame hardly giving off any warmth.

“Sh-shut up,” he had chattered after he had slid under Roman’s golden wing. “Y-you’re w-warm.”

Roman had tried to come up with a witty reply, but all that came out was a croak.

Behind them, Logan and Patton trudged through the snow, huddled together. In front of them, Frost led the way, looking over her shoulder worriedly when she thought no one was looking.

“Bad news!” Frost shouted over the wind. “Looks like a storm’s coming!”

A gust of wind threatened to knock him over and made Virgil stumble. He wrapped his wing around the seer and continued through the blizzard.

After what felt like forever of fighting the storm and almost freezing to death, Frost finally managed to find a cave for them to shelter in. She ushered them inside, looking at the sky uneasily. The sun was completely covered by the clouds and the snow was falling more heavily than before.

Roman collapsed at the back of the cave, shivering. The cave sheltered them from the wind, but he was still colder than he had ever been in his life.

Logan and Patton sat down on the opposite side of the cave, and Virgil plopped down next to Roman. He sat there, shivering, until Roman sighed and pulled him closer. 

“Y-you’re freezing.” Roman said through chattering teeth.

“So a-are you,” Virgil replied, shaking snow off his hoodie.

Patton held up his wrists, and gray silk poured onto the floor. “Here,” he said. “You can burn this.”

Roman nodded and took a deep breath. It took a few tries, but he managed to set the silk on fire. Virgil stared at the flames with wide eyes.

“We never had fire back on the island because, well, SeaWings.” he said.

“Well, it’s v-very hot,” Roman offered helpfully.

Virgil glared at him. “Yeah, no shit.”

“You should try to get some rest.” Frost interrupted. Even she was starting to shiver.

“Hey, Frost,” he said, trying to distract her. “Tell us something about the Ice Kingdom. What was it like?”

Frost was silent for a long moment. “Well, to be honest, I hated it.” she finally said, taking a shaky breath and opening her mouth to continue.

Roman widened his eyes. “Oh! You don’t have to talk about it if-”

“No, I want to,” Frost said, clenching her fists. “My mom made it bearable, but one day she went hunting and… she never came back.” her voice was oddly hollow, devoid of emotion.

Roman gulped. “And your father?”

“He never paid any attention to me when mother was alive,” she replied. “But then she died, and he suddenly took an interest in me. Started pushing me harder and harder until I was at the top of the rankings, but even that wasn’t enough. I had to be the best at everything.” she looked out the mouth of the cave and into the storm. “Eventually, I got tired of it and left.”

Roman stared at her. “Permission to push your father off a mountain?” he pretended not to notice the whack Virgil gave him.

Frost chuckled. “I wish I could say yes to that.”

“So that’s why you were so reluctant to return here.” Logan said thoughtfully.

She glanced at him. “I guess.”

“Then you don’t have to come with us,” Roman decided. “Maybe-maybe you can get us to the Great Ice cliff, and we’ll find a way around it.”

“No, the wall is too big to fly around,” Logan argued. “We need Frost to get us the Gift of Diplomacy.”

He felt Virgil shiver against his side. “The gift of what?”

“The Gift of Diplomacy,” Frost answered. “They’re bracelets that let dragons of other tribes cross the Great Ice Cliff, since the cliff kills everything but IceWings.”

Patton’s eyes went wide. “And you didn’t think to tell us this sooner?”

Frost rubbed the back of her neck. “Sorry, I thought you knew.”

“All of that aside, we still need Frost to get those bracelets.” Logan said. “We won’t survive otherwise.”

Frost stood up. “No. I refuse to go back in there. I can’t- I can’t afford it.”

Logan still wouldn’t give up. “Frost-”

“I’ll go see if I can find something to eat,” she interrupted. She stepped toward the mouth of the cave. It was snowing so hard, Roman couldn’t see five feet outside.

“Frost, wait!” he shouted as she spread her wings. “You can’t go out in that!”

Frost didn’t look back as she said, “I’ve been in worse. I’ll be back soon.”

With that, she turned and flew into the storm.

Roman turned to Logan. “Look what you did! She’s going to freeze out there!”

“You don’t think I know that?” Logan shouted back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I-I made a mistake.”

He tried to stand on his shaking legs. “I’m going after her.”

Virgil grabbed his arm. “No you’re not. You’re just going to get lost and freeze to death. She’ll come back, and if she doesn’t, then we’ll look. After the storm.”

Roman reluctantly sat down, still staring at the cave’s opening. Even if IceWings could survive subzero temperatures, they weren’t supposed to be out during blizzards. Eventually, even an IceWing would freeze to death, like any other dragon.

I won’t let that happen. Roman thought fiercely. We’ll get in, warn the IceWings, catch the assassin, and leave.

Moons above, I hope this works.

.

Fortunately, Frost had come back as the storm was dying down.

“Frost! You’re okay!” Roman stood up and pulled her into a hug. She gasped at the sudden contact, the relaxed. She was shivering violently, and Roman pulled away to look at her. “Frost? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said, stepping away awkwardly. “We should get going.”

“Frost, I want to-” Logan started.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she interrupted. “I’ll get you as far as the Ice cliff. After that, you’re on your own. I- I know I promised to help you find the assassin, but I also promised myself that I wouldn’t go back there.”

“That’s okay,” Patton said. “You’ve already done so much for us. It wouldn’t be fair to ask for more.”

Frost nodded. “R-right.”

They began to walk north, in the direction of the Ice palace. Frost led them through the tough terrain, pointing out the easiest paths and the more dangerous ones.

“You’re gonna have to fly around the Great Ice Cliff,” Frost said, walking alongside them. “It shouldn’t be too long of a flight, just a couple of hours. From there, fly north until you see the Ice palace. It’s big, tall towers, you can’t miss it.”

Roman sighed and looked up at the sky. Even the thought of more flying made his wings feel tired. The storm had died down significantly, but the wind was still fairly strong.

Virgil shivered against his side. “I just want to get out of here as soon as possible. It’s c-cold.”

Roman opened his mouth to reply, but a streak of green flashing at the edge of his vision interrupted his train of thought. He whipped his head around, but there was nothing there.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “What? What is it?”

“It’s nothing, I just thought-”

“Uh, Roman?” Frost cut him off, pointing to something in front of them.

A black and green dragon was standing in front of them, lazily swinging his tail from side to side. Roman squinted at the dragon. Wait, it couldn’t be. Is that…?

“Remus?” he ran toward him, ignoring Logan’s shouts.

He stopped a few feet away from him, frowning. He was absolutely certain that dragon was Remus, but something felt… off. Remus had his head down, and his shoulders were tense.

“Remus?” he said hesitantly. “W- what are you doing here?” he shook his head. That didn’t matter right now. “We finally found you.”

Remus didn’t respond.

He stepped forward, grabbing his wrist. “Come on, Rem. Let’s go home-”

Remus wrenched his arm away from his grasp, looking up. Roman gasped.

His eyes were completely white.

He stumbled back. “Remus, what-”

Remus swiped a talon at him, and he barely dodged it. Someone tried to drag him back, but he dug his claws into the snow. “Wait! There’s something wrong. What’s wrong with my brother?”

Now that Roman was out of reach, Remus turned to the closest target. Frost was crouching in a defensive stance, and Remus growled at her, shaking a knife out of his sleeve. He stabbed at her face and she reared up to grab his arms at the last second. Remus pressed harder, growling. Frost’s eyes flickered between Remus and the knife.

“Roman?” Virgil’s grip tightened on his arm. “Is that-is that your brother?”

“It looks like him,” he hated the way his voice shook. “But that’s not- that can’t be him.”

He watched numbly as Patton held his wrist out and shot silk at the knife. It wrapped around the handle and he yanked it out of Remus’s talons. He snapped his head toward them, snarling.

Virgil let go of his arm, shifting to stand in front of Patton. “Looks like we’re going to have to fight him.”

“No, no, I can’t, that’s my brother,” Roman muttered, barely aware of what he was saying. He flinched as Logan tackled Remus off of Frost. Logan got thrown into the snow and Remus stood up, turning his glare on Roman. Patton moved away from Roman and Virgil, taking Remus’s attention. The light caught on something on his ear and- was that an earring?

Virgil looked down at Roman’s shaking talons, then back up at his eyes. “You don’t have to fight him, then. Just- just stay here.”

Roman watched as he shoved Patton out of the way of Remus’s fire. The knife was still stuck in the ground, forgotten.

He shifted his gaze to Remus. His eyes were pearly white, his expression blank. It was all so not Remus that for a moment he doubted it was even him. But there was no one in Pyrrhia who was quite the same shade of green. His sleeves were still stained red from when he wiped his knife with it. Even the way he moved, with quick, fluid motions that were almost too fast to follow was familiar.

Logan let out a cry as he was flung away from Remus. His eyes snapped back to Virgil as he clawed at Remus’s throat.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut. Logically, he knew they had to stop Remus, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when he heard his brother’s shouts of pain.

“Roman!” Virgil shouted. He opened his eyes to see Remus charging toward him, knife held high.

He wouldn’t hurt me. Roman thought dimly. He wouldn’t, I trust-

Remus threw the knife.

It hurtled through the air and sank into his forearm. He heard someone scream and wondered why it was so loud when he realized he was the one screaming. He lifted his arm shakily, watching the blood trickle down his scales. The sight of it made him dizzy.

He was dimly aware of Patton screaming, of Virgil grabbing his arm desperately, of the pain he should’ve been more aware of, but his gaze was locked on the knife.

Virgil stared at the knife embedded in his arm, shouting, “Logan! Come help me over here!” to Roman, he said, “Come on, Princey, we gotta get out of here.”

He slumped against Virgil, and he grunted under Roman’s weight. “I-I…” he tried to apologize for being unhelpful, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate with him.

Frost roared and leaped at Remus. The two dragons clawed and bit at each other, rolling through the snow. Blood splattered the ground, staining it red and blue.

Logan came to support him on his other side. He held his arm up again and moved to take the knife out.

“No!” Logan exclaimed. “I do not know much about stab wounds, but I know you should not take the knife out.” he turned around. “Patton?”

Patton hurried toward them, glancing between the battling dragons and Roman worriedly. “Logan’s right, we should wait until we can get to safety before taking it out.”

Roman groaned, putting more of his weight on Virgil. “It- it hurts.”

Patton looked at him sadly. “I know, kiddo. I promise we’ll fix it soon.” he spoke as if he was talking to a startled animal. He probably should have been offended by that, but he was in too much pain to think about that.

He started to lead them away, but Roman looked back at Frost and Remus. “But what about Frost? And my brother?”

“I’m sure Frost will be fine.” Virgil didn’t sound sure, which wasn’t comforting in the slightest. “And Remus…”

“I can talk to him,” he pleaded. He hated how desperate he sounded. “I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding. Remus would never-”

“Roman.” Virgil said, forcing him to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, but...”

Roman shook his head, knowing what he was about to say. He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to confirm it, as if not thinking about it would will it out of existence.

“I think Remus is the assassin.”

.

“Hey, Ro. Finally awake?”

Roman slowly opened his eyes, blinking the sleepiness away. He tried to sit up, but gasped in pain when he put weight on his injured arm.

“Hey, careful.” He looked up to see Virgil staring down at him.

He looked back down at the injured arm, which was covered in bandages. The previous day was hazy, like he had dreamed it up.

“Frost?” he asked.

“I’m over here.” The IceWing sat in a corner, arm held out so Patton could wrap bandages around it. She also had a bandage around her waist and back leg. “Some IceWings living on the outskirts gave us some supplies. Probably saved our scales.”

He looked back up at Virgil. “And Remus?”

Virgil shook his head. “He got away. I’m sorry Roman, but he’s the only one who could be the assassin.”

“Could you read his mind? What was it like?” he asked.

“It-it was strange,” he replied. “The only way to describe it is... sharp. Like it was blocked off by a wall of thorns.”

“Well, I-I want to talk to him,” Roman said, blinking tears out of his eyes. “I want to know why he did it.”

Virgil shared a glance with Logan.

“I don’t think you can,” Logan said slowly. “Did you see his eyes?”

Roman perked up. “That’s it! He must be under a spell!”

“A spell?” Patton tilted his head. “How?”

“Long story short, there are these dragons called animus dragons who can do anything they want by enchanting something. They’re supposed to be super rare.” Roman explained. 

“Woah,” Patton said, awestruck. “That sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed. “I wonder how Remus found one.”

Beside him, Virgil shivered, and he realized there was no fire in the cave.

“T-there’s no fire,” Roman’s teeth chattered. 

“Well, none of us have fire,” Frost replied, studying her newly applied bandages as Patton worked on putting new ones on her waist. “And you were unconscious.”

Roman sat up, careful not to put weight on his injured arm. “Then I’ll make one right now.”

Patton stepped forward, holding out his wrists. Silk poured from them, and soon there was a small pile of silk sitting on the cave floor. He breathed fire on the silk, setting it ablaze. He sat back down, feeling dizzy.

“Take it easy, Prince Charming,” Frost said. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“And it should be time for Roman to change his now,” Patton called, not looking up from his work. “Virgil, can you take care of that for me?”

Frost tossed a roll of bandages at Virgil, who fumbled it, almost dropping it on Roman. “Watch it!”

“Oops!” Frost smirked.

“Hey, be nice!” Patton called.

“Whatever, dad,” Frost muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Virgil sighed and turned to Roman. He started to unwrap the bandages on his arm wordlessly.

“I can do this myself, you know,” Roman said, trying to catch Virgil’s eye. He’d patched Remus up enough times to know how to do it in his sleep.

“I know,” Virgil murmured, still not meeting his eyes. “I just need something to do. I’ve been sitting in this cave for hours.”

“Oh,” Roman said. “Sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what? Getting stabbed?” Virgil finally managed to get the bandage off and he had to resist the urge to gag at the sight of the stab wound.

Virgil noticed his expression. “Yeah, it was pretty bad. You shouldn’t put weight on it for a while.”

Virgil began to apply the bandages to his arm. Roman watched him work, struggling to stay awake. He must have been more tired than he thought.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Princey.” Virgil nudged his face gently. “You’re not sleeping until you’ve had something to eat.”

Roman shook his head to clear it. “I wasn’t falling asleep, Stormcloud.”

Virgil raised a brow. “Oh, we’re going with that nickname?” without waiting for a reply, he turned to Frost. “You got any food left from those IceWings?”

He heard Frost rummage around for something. The sound of the something slapping Virgil in the face followed soon after. 

“Hey!”

“You were supposed to catch it!”

“Frost, maybe you should not throw the food?” Logan said tiredly from the other side of the fire.

Frost muttered something too quiet for him to hear.

Virgil grumbled and handed Roman half of the seal Frost had thrown, keeping the other half for himself.

Roman ate it in two bites, too hungry to roast it. He wrinkled his nose at the taste. “I don’t know how anyone could enjoy raw meat,” Roman commented, ignoring Frost’s offended squawk. “But… Remus would have loved it.” he stared down at the bandage on his arm, pretending not to notice the worried glance Logan sent to Virgil.

“If he is under a spell,” Frost said. “Then we’ll have to find the animus that enchanted him, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Logan said. “An animus dragon needs an object to enchant, correct? All we have to do is find the enchanted object.” Logan turned to Roman. “Was your brother carrying or wearing anything that could have been enchanted?”

Roman thought about it and suddenly remembered the earring he saw briefly. “Remus was wearing an earring earlier, but I couldn’t see what it looked like. That must be it, though.” Virgil suddenly gasped, then quickly hid it with a cough. Roman gave him a puzzled look. Virgil didn’t notice.

Frost was shaking her head. “But we have no guarantee that that’s the enchanted object. For all we know, the animus could be controlling him from across the continent.”

Patton laced his claws together. “There are a lot more dragons here than on Pantala, and it’s a lot less… organized. We don’t have time to search for one dragon.”

Virgil tensed, his grip tightening on his seal. Roman narrowed his eyes and frowned.

“Maybe… what if we had a way to find the animus?” Frost wondered aloud, giving Virgil a pointed look.

Virgil let out a shaky breath and stood up. “I have something to tell you all. It’s about my visions.”

Logan looked up from the fire, intrigued. Frost widened her eyes, then immediately narrowed them, suspicious. Patton somehow managed to look even more worried than he already was.

“In one of my visions, there was a SandWing, but not any ordinary SandWing- this one was wingless.” Virgil said quickly. “And-and in his talons, he was holding an earring. One that was shaped like a rose.”

Roman clenched his fists, leaving imprints in his palms. He remembered that earring, remembered giving that earring to Remus for his hatching day, remembered being so excited to give it to him. Remus never wore it, claiming that he didn’t want to break it. “That has to be the one with the enchantment on it. He never used to wear it before.”

“That does make sense,” Frost admitted begrudgingly. “But still…”

“Virgil, that can’t be the only vision you had. Earlier you said visions, plural.” Logan pointed out.

“You’re right,” Virgil said. “I had a vision of Queen Glacier dying, so that’s why we came here.”

Frost shuddered, rubbing the scratches on her waist. “I don’t like the sound of that. Princess Snowfall is a pain in the ass.”

“And the last vision,” Virgil said, ignoring Frost. “Was of- of Patton dying.”

Virgil was looking down at his talons while everyone stared at him. Roman lightly brushed his wing with his own in an attempt at comforting him. Virgil didn’t notice.

Patton stood up and ran towards Virgil, wrapping his wings around him. “This is why you wanted me to stay on the island, isn’t it?”

Roman turned away, letting the two dragons have as much privacy as possible in the small cave.

He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to watch someone he loved die, with seemingly no way to stop it.

Except I can. He thought miserably. Remus is taking out the royal families, and one day it’s going to get him killed.

I need to stop him before that happens.

.

Roman couldn’t sleep.

Even though he was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and not open them until morning, his body refused to let him rest. After much tossing and turning and picking at the bandages on his arm, he finally gave up and limped onto the ledge outside the cave.

The cold was almost enough to make him go back inside, but the stars convinced him to stay. For a while, he sat in the cold and watched the stars in silence, thinking.

The sound of talonsteps made him turn around. He lit up as he saw that it was Virgil that had come to join him.

“Hey, Stormcloud,” he greeted.

“Hey. Couldn’t sleep?” Virgil asked as he sat down next to Roman.

“Yeah. My thoughts won’t leave me alone,” Roman said, pressing himself against Virgil for warmth.

Virgil laid a wing over Roman’s back and sighed. “I know the feeling well.” He laid his head on his talons, and Roman did the same. He looked at the bandages on his arm. “How’s your arm? Does it still hurt?”

“Not that much,” he lied. In fact, he thought it hurt more than it had a day ago. “A few more days and I’ll be good as new!” he forced himself to smile.

Virgil narrowed his eyes as if he saw right through the lie, but didn’t comment. “Something’s on your mind.” It was more of a statement than a question.

His talons instinctively moved to his bag, where he kept his skyfire. Virgil just chuckled. “I don’t need to read your mind to know that. So, what’s up?”

Roman looked up at the sky. “I- I really want to help him, Virgil.” he didn’t need to say Remus’s name in order for Virgil to figure out who he was talking about. “And I know we can’t do anything to help him right now, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling anxious and-”

“Then just talk about something else.” Virgil interrupted.

Roman blinked at him. “What?”

Virgil looked down and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s just something my mom and I used to do. Whenever one of us got stressed, we would talk about a completely different topic until we could confront the problem. Since we can’t fix this problem right now, why not take your mind off of it?”

Roman smiled. “Alright then.” he thought for a moment. “When I was a dragonet, I was cared for by a SkyWing named Crimson. She was awesome. She played games with us, and whenever I didn’t feel like doing battle practice, she would tell us stories. The stories were always something I had never heard of before, and she knew how to spin a tale. I miss her.”

“What happened to her?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, um…” he wasn’t sure how to say that one day she had disappeared and he never saw her again.

Virgil seemed to get the hint. “Oh! I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s alright, it was a long time ago anyway.” Even as he said it, he felt a pang in his chest. He was surprised at how sad he felt about it, even after so many years.

He bumped Virgil’s shoulder with his own, attempting to change the subject. “Your turn.”

Virgil furrowed his brows in confusion. “My turn to what?”

“I told you something about me. Now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, right.” Virgil was silent for a moment before he smirked. He held up his arms, rolling up his sleeves. “You see these purple scales?” He nodded at the scales that ran up his arm. “Watch them carefully.”

Roman nodded and kept his eyes on Virgil’s arm. The scales suddenly lit up, causing him to cry out in alarm.

He rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly while Virgil laughed his head off. “I probably should have expected that. You’re half SeaWing, after all.”

Virgil laughed even harder at that, and Roman couldn’t help but join in. After a while, Virgil finally calmed down enough to say, “I didn’t think you’d actually fall for it!”

Roman whacked him with his wing and pouted. “Shut up.” he was trying to sound annoyed, but he couldn’t keep the fond look off his face.

Virgil giggled and whacked him back.

“So, uh.” Roman wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. “Can I see them again? Without burning my eyes, please.”

Virgil got his giggles under control and nodded. “Okay.” he held out his arms again and they began to glow, dimmer than before. The scales on his tail and under his eyes began to glow as well until he was emanating a soft, purple light.

“Wow,” Roman whispered, reaching out to touch Virgil’s arm lightly. “They’re like… violet fireflies.”

“Really?” he dimmed the scales until they were no longer glowing. “I never thought about them like that.”

“Well, they’re lovelier than any firefly I’ve ever seen,” Roman said.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are you like this with every dragon you meet?”

Roman smirked. “Just the interesting ones.”

“And I’m interesting to you?”

“A little bit.”

Virgil smiled. “I can live with that.”

They sat under the stars for a while until Roman began to shiver.

“We should head back in,” Virgil said as he started to shiver too.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Roman stood up, holding his injured arm in the air and helped Virgil up. They headed inside the cave, but Virgil suddenly stumbled.

“Woah, are you-” he caught Virgil with one arm as he collapsed. He was staring into the horizon, muttering under his breath. “Virgil? Are you okay?”

He was about to go get help when Virgil’s eyes fluttered open. He groaned and rubbed his head. 

“You okay, Stormcloud?” Roman asked, adjusting his grip on him.

Virgil’s eyes widened and he quickly pulled away. “I-I’m fine. It was just a vision. Sorry about that.”

Roman frowned. “Are they always that dramatic?”

“Usually.”

He nodded slowly. “Alright. What was your vision about this time?”

“It was of Remus.” Roman gasped. “And I think I know where our animus is.”

.

“We have to go to the desert again?” Frost cried, distraught.

“Uh, yeah? Where else would you find a SandWing, genius?” Virgil snapped.

Roman sighed. They had been arguing for what was probably only a few minutes, but felt like hours.

“Though I would prefer not to go to the desert again, it’s our only option if we want to help Roman.” Logan added.

Roman buried his head in his talons, suddenly feeling guilty. He had dragged them into this. He was responsible for everything that had happened. They didn’t need to help him, and yet…

“Roman, you okay?” Patton’s voice forced him out of his thoughts.

“I’m quite alright,” he replied. “But… this is my problem. None of you need to help me.” he turned to Frost. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. And Virgil.” he looked at the seer. “I’m so sorry for forcing you into this. You don’t have to help me either. None of you do.” he looked down at his talons, feeling miserable. They must hate him for dragging them into his problems.

Virgil stood up. “You idiot.”

His head snapped up. “What?”

Virgil walked over, took Roman’s talons between his, and squeezed them. “You’re an idiot if you think we’re going to leave you to do this by yourself. I chose to come, remember? And I also chose to stay.” Roman stared at their entwined talons, stunned.

Frost nodded. “He’s right. Besides, I promised I would help you find the assassin, and I’m not one to break my promises.”

“And there’s no way we’d let you do this yourself, right Logan?” Patton said excitedly.

“Correct. We’re helping you solve this problem, Roman, whether you like it or not,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses.

Roman smiled so wide his face hurt. He let go of Virgil’s talons and pulled his friends into a hug. He buried his face into someone’s shoulder, muttering, “Thank you,” over and over and over again. He didn’t even realize he had been crying until he pulled away with tears streaming down his face.

He wiped his tears away with his uninjured arm. “Thank you,” he whispered one last time.

“Right, with that out of the way,” Logan said, flustered. “Let’s go find this animus, shall we?”

.

After about a day of flying, they had finally reached the SandWing stronghold.

“Should we… go inside?” Roman asked as they took a break near an oasis. Patton was refilling their water bottles they got from Frost’s IceWing friends while Frost submerged herself in the water.

“Why should we?” Frost asked, lifting her head out of the water. “We don’t need Thorn’s help.”

“And wouldn’t it be more wise to keep this all a secret? At least until it’s fixed?” Logan added.

“I suppose you’re right,” Roman sighed. “It would have been nice to have a backup army, though.”

“So Virgil, where exactly is this animus?” Frost asked, sitting up. “Because I don’t think Thorn has any wingless SandWings in her palace.”

Virgil shook his head. “No, he’s not in the stronghold. In my vision, he was standing in front of a cave that went into the ground, and he was holding that earring again.”

“And where’s the cave?” Roman asked.

“Somewhere west of the palace.”

Frost sighed. “We’ve got a lot of flying ahead of us.”

.

Night had fallen on the desert, but they still hadn’t found the animus’s cave.

The five of them had found a hole that would presumably lead them into a tunnel system, judging by the rock Frost had thrown down it.

“I guess we can sleep in this hole in the ground,” Virgil said, staring down the hole.

Frost nodded. “It looks safe.”

Roman looked up at the sky, feeling restless. “Shouldn’t we try looking for a little while longer? The moons are bright and there isn’t a cloud in sight.”

Patton reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “I know you want to find Remus, but we’ve been flying all day, and we need rest.”

“And I would like to scout before we make any rash decisions,” Frost added.

Logan sighed when he still didn’t look entirely convinced. “We’ll scout out the animus’s cave first thing in the morning.” he said. “But for now, you need to rest that arm.”

Roman glanced down at his injured arm. It had healed enough that he didn’t need the bandages anymore, but it still hurt when he put his weight on it. “Fine, fine.”

Roman went down the hole first. He was surprised at how deep it was, and he had to suppress a hiss of pain as he landed on his injured arm.

“Roman, are you okay?” Patton called.

Roman grunted and stood up. “Yeah, I’m fine! It’s safe to come down!”

Patton came down next, fluttering his wings to break his fall. “There isn’t much space to spread your wings, so be careful!” he shouted up at the others.

Frost poked her head through the hole, blocking out the moonlight momentarily. She squeezed her shoulders through and almost fell, but righted herself at the last second, landing ungracefully on her feet. The bandages on her arm came loose, and Patton quickly moved to fix it.

Logan went down after her. He spread his wings to slow his descent, but one of them scraped against the cave walls and he plummeted to the ground.

“Logan!” Roman cried, running to his side. “Are you okay?”

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Virgil called from above.

“I’m alright!” Logan shouted back. “It was just a fall, nothing to worry about,” he said to Roman.

“Well, it looked like it hurt,” Roman replied, helping Logan up. He turned his head up to the skylight. “Virgil, you can come down now!”

Virgil squinted down at them. “Um, how far is the drop, exactly?”

Roman frowned. Was that a hint of fear in his voice? “Uh, it’s not that far. You’ll probably be fine!” he said, glancing at Frost and Logan, who were both grimacing in pain.

“Right, very reassuring.” Virgil disappeared from view for a moment before he suddenly threw himself down the hole. He plummeted like a rock and landed on Logan, squashing him to the ground.

Roman gasped. “Virgil, are you okay?” he asked, offering him his uninjured arm.

Virgil grabbed his arm and pulled himself off of Logan. “Yeah- ow- I’m fine.” he looked down at Logan. “Sorry Logan,”

“It’s… alright,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses and brushing himself off. “Let’s get moving, shall we?”

Frost nodded, tightening the bandages on her arm. “Let’s find somewhere bigger. I feel cramped in here.”

Roman led the way through the tunnels, occasionally breathing fire to light their way. The tunnels were narrow, so they had to walk single file. Sometimes they became so small Roman was afraid he had gotten stuck. The stone was dry, and it scraped painfully against his scales.

Eventually, the tunnel opened up into a small cave just big enough for all five of them to sit in. 

Frost drew her wings in close to her body, looking around the cramped space. “Isn’t it a bit… small?”

“It’s the best we can do for now,” Patton said. “Besides, I’m sure we’re all too tired to search for a bigger cave.”

Roman laid down, his head on his talons. Virgil laid down next to him, and Logan sat on his other side. “Do we need someone to keep watch? I don’t think it’s likely that anyone will find us,” Roman said, stifling a yawn.

“We’re so close to the animus, though,” Virgil pointed out. “We can’t be too careful.”

“Well, who wants to keep watch then?” Patton asked. “I can-”

Frost raised a talon. “I’ll-”

“Absolutely not,” Patton said sternly. “You, an IceWing, just flew through a desert, and you still haven’t healed completely from that fight with Remus. Anyone else?”

Frost lowered her arm sheepishly. 

Logan sighed. “I suppose I’ll do it.”

Patton nodded. “Alright, everybody else, try to get some rest. Logan, wake Virgil or me when you start to feel tired.”

It took some time and quite a bit of shuffling around, but eventually they managed to find a comfortable position to lie in. It wasn’t perfect, with Frost’s spikes poking him in the back, Patton’s wings in his face, and Virgil’s head resting on his talons, but he was comfortable enough to drift into a fitful sleep.

.

Roman woke the next morning to darkness. He panicked for a moment before he remembered he was in the tunnels beneath the desert. He blinked awake and saw Logan sitting next to Patton’s sleeping form. He gently lifted Virgil’s head off his talons and set it on the floor and gingerly stood up, trying not to wake anyone. 

He stepped over tails and talons to sit next to Logan, carefully pushing Patton’s leg out of the way.

“Good morning,” Logan greeted. He was scratching something on the floor, but quickly wiped it away as Roman leaned over to look.

Roman sat down, curling his tail around his talons. “How do you know it’s morning? There’s no light down here.”

Logan shrugged. “I guessed, mostly. You wake up around the same time everyday, correct? Therefore, it’s safe to assume that it is morning.”

Roman chuckled. “Good morning, then.”

Logan rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. Roman looked closer and saw that his eyes were red from lack of sleep.

“Did you stay up the whole night?” he asked. “I thought you were supposed to wake Virgil.”

“He was already asleep, and I was doing fine,” Logan huffed. “I was able to stay awake the entire night, so it hardly matters.”

Roman frowned, but didn’t reply.

The two dragons sat in silence for a long time, lost in thought, until the cave grew warmer.

“We should wake the others,” Logan said, standing up. “I’ll get Patton.” Roman nodded, moving to rouse Virgil and Frost.

He woke Frost by poking her in the shoulder, to which she responded by batting his talons away. He eventually managed to get her to sit up, though she wasn’t happy about it.

Rousing Virgil proved to be a much easier task. All it took was a few nudges and the seer was on his feet.

“Mornin’” Virgil greeted, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Good morning,” he replied. 

“Alright, who’s going to scout with me?” Frost called, effectively silencing everyone in the cave.

“I’ll go,” Roman volunteered immediately. 

“I’ll go too,” Virgil said. “I can show you where the animus is.”

Patton frowned. “Should Frost go? She still hasn’t recovered completely…”

Frost sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “I just want to do something,” she said. “Being in these tunnels is… suffocating.”

“But the desert will be the most dangerous to you,” Roman pointed out. “That’s why IceWings are rarely seen anywhere other than the Ice Kingdom, right? Because you’ll overheat?”

“It won’t take that long,” she pressed. “I just don’t like sitting around doing nothing.”

Roman wanted to argue more, but seeing the look on her face, he knew she wouldn’t change her mind.

He nodded reluctantly. “Alright. Let’s get going.”

.

Roman, Virgil, and Frost set out before the sun was highest, leaving Logan and Patton behind in case something happened to them.

“Can you lead us to the animus’s cave?” Roman asked as soon as they emerged from the tunnels.

Virgil squinted at the sky, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness. He had taken off his hoodie and left it with Patton, so Roman could see the glowing purple scales that ran up his arms and along his side. “I think so. Now that I think about it, the tunnels we were just in might be connected to the animus’s.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Should we have left Patton and Logan alone down there?”

“They’ll be fine,” Frost said, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Logan has his venom.”

“And Patton knows how to take care of himself,” Virgil added, though Roman could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Now, let’s go find this animus.”

They searched for the rest of the morning, growing more and more weary at each cave they searched that wasn’t the animus’s. It wasn’t until noon that they found something.

“Roman, did you see that?” Virgil said urgently, grabbing his arm.

“See what?” he said right as he saw a streak of black and green fly overhead.

His eyes went wide. “That’s him! That’s Remus!” he spread his wings to follow him, but Virgil tugged him back.

“We should stay hidden,” he explained. “Maybe he’ll lead us to wherever the animus is.”

Roman folded his wings in begrudgingly, admitting that Virgil made sense.

They followed Remus from the ground, freezing when he looked down. There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the desert, and Roman found that he missed the towering peaks and dense forests of the Sky Kingdom.

“How… far away… is this dragon?” Frost panted, looking like she was about to faint. Roman steadied her with a wing, and she nodded at him gratefully.

“Looks like it’s not much farther,” Virgil said. “He’s landing.”

Sure enough, Remus was diving straight to the sand, spreading his wings right before he hit the ground. A few moments later, a wingless SandWing wearing a black cloak stepped outside. He nodded at Remus and scanned the sand dunes. The three of them ducked until his gaze wandered off of them. He gestured to the cave and he and Remus went inside the cave.

“We should go after him,” Roman decided as soon as the SandWing disappeared into the cave. “Right now. We could free him.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Virgil snapped. “There’s no way the three of us can take Remus on, especially when he has an animus as backup.”

Roman lashed his tail, sending clouds of sand stirring around him. “I know, I know, it’s just… frustrating. We’re so close.”

Virgil sighed. “But if we go now, we’re all going to die, and I am not dying in this miserable place.”

“Besides, don’t you want to go and rest?” Frost said, fanning herself with her wings. “It’s… really hot, don’t you think?”

Roman dug his claws into the sand, ignoring the jolt of pain it sent up his injured arm. He could see the cave clearly, opening into the sand dune and continuing downward. A ring of cacti stood in front of the mouth of the cave, looking almost deliberate.

Virgil stared at him with a concerned expression before he quickly looked away. Frost lifted into the air, hovering while she waited for them to join her. “Let’s hurry,” she said, sounding out of breath. “We don’t want to keep Logan and Patton waiting.”

.

“Did you find anything?” Patton asked as soon as they dropped into the tunnel.

“We saw the animus at his cave,” Frost answered. “Roman’s brother was there too.”

“That’s good, right?” Patton said, propping a torch against a rock.

While they had been gone, Patton and Logan had gone deeper into the tunnels and found a bigger cave for them to wait in. The new cave was big enough for Roman to spread his wings, so that was a plus.

“Yeah, all we need is a plan.” Virgil said, putting his hoodie back on. his claws and face were still soaking from his trip to the underground river Patton and Logan had found.

“But we don’t need a plan!” Roman said, frustrated. “We can just go and free Remus, can’t we?”

“But we do need a plan,” Logan cut in. “We need a way to lure your brother out without alerting the animus. I don’t think you want to deal with an animus anymore than I do.”

Roman had to admit that it didn’t sound very appealing. “Then what do you suppose we do?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Frost said. She scooted over to an empty spot on the floor and started to scratch something into it. Roman leaned over to see what it was. It turned out to be a map of the area around the animus’s cave.

“Alright,” Frost said, leaning forward. “This is what I had in mind…”

.

Roman yawned as he sat on the other side of the cave. They had been discussing the plan all day, and Frost and Logan were finalizing it. It was still so surreal to him that they would go through all these lengths just to help him with his own problems. They didn’t gain anything from it. They weren’t even royalty, and yet they stood by him. It was baffling.

He looked up as Virgil plopped down next to him. “How are you feeling?” he asked. He had taken his hoodie off earlier, and his scales glowed faintly in the dark. 

“Well, as good as I can be in this miserable heat,” Roman said. “I don’t know how SandWings stand it.”

Virgil punched him lightly in the shoulder. “I meant like, mentally, Princey.”

Roman’s smile melted off his face. “I���m just impatient. Another day gone. Another day that Remus has to be under a spell.”

“At least we’ll be prepared,” Virgil said. He was silent for a moment before he nervously asked, “Roman, can I ask you something?”

Roman looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “Um, sure.”

“What- what are you going to do if we can’t free your brother? If the animus gets away?” Virgil asked quickly.

“I’ll try again, of course!” he said, clenching his fists. “I’ll try however many times it takes.”

“No, I mean, what are you going to do if you can’t save him? Ever?”

Roman’s eyes widened as he realized what Virgil was asking. “I- I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. If he was being honest with himself, he was terrified at the prospect of failing. If he couldn’t save Remus, what else was he going to do? Go back to being a prince? How was he going to explain to his kingdom that their beloved champion was dead?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that!” Virgil said, his eyes widening in horror when Roman didn’t elaborate.

Roman bumped his shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s important to think about, anyway.”

Virgil glanced at him. “I guess.”

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Frost suddenly cried out in triumph. Roman’s head snapped up and he winced as something in his neck cracked.

“Who’s screeching?” Virgil mumbled tiredly. He yawned and stretched his wings, accidentally whacking him in the face.

“I’m not screeching,” Frost grumbled. “Anyway, we finally have a plan!”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “We may have an idea on what to do,”

Roman stood up and stretched. “So let’s hear it.”

.

The next morning, Roman set out on his own to be used as bait.

Well, technically he wasn’t alone. Frost was flying over head, prepared to act as a distraction if needed. Patton, Logan, and Virgil were hidden somewhere among the dunes, acting as backup if anything went wrong.

It was strange, being away from other dragons, even if for a short time. Frost was barely visible among the clouds, and Logan, Patton, and Virgil were nowhere to be seen.

Roman stopped a short way from the ring of cacti that stood in front of the cave, running the plan through his head again. 

It was fairly simple. Roman would stand in front of the cave, hopefully luring Remus out. They would then surround him, and Roman would take the earring and break the spell. If everything went smoothly, the animus wouldn’t take notice of a random SkyWing standing at his doorstep.

Roman took one last look at the sand dunes around them before stepping closer to the cave. He tried to keep his wings from shaking, but he was sure he hadn’t succeeded.

He stepped into the ring of cacti, eyeing them warily as if some sort of trap would spring from them. His head snapped toward the cave as he heard heavy breathing coming from it.

One moment he was glancing skyward, wondering if Frost had sensed something amiss, the next he was thrown into the ground, winded.

He coughed and attempted to stand, but his attacker was on him in an instant. He looked up to see blank white eyes staring back at him.

Remus dug his claws into his shoulders, and he gritted his teeth. He struggled, but Remus had an ironclad grip on him.

Claws closed around his throat and he struggled to breathe. Remus dug his claws into his neck, drawing blood. He could feel it trickle down his scales.

Suddenly, the weight was lifted. He coughed and choked, rubbing his neck before looking up to see Logan deftly avoiding Remus’s attacks.

Logan ducked as Remus swiped a talon at him, then whirled around with his jaw wide open, fangs aimed at Remus.

Roman’s eyes widened. “Logan, no!”

Logan looked at him, startled. While he was distracted, Remus tackled him to the ground.

Before Roman could move, Frost dove onto Remus from above. The two clawed and bit at each other, trying their hardest to tear each other apart. Roman looked on, feeling helpless.

“Roman!” he turned around to see Patton and Virgil running up to them. “You’re bleeding!” Patton said worriedly, stopping just in front of them.

He reached up to the cut on his neck. “It’s just a cut,” he said absently.

Virgil’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Behind you!”

Without looking behind him, he dove to the side. Remus landed in the place he had just been a moment before, but instead of attacking him, he leaped at Virgil.

“Virgil!” He dove in front of Virgil before Remus could get to him. “Snap out of it!” he shouted, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Behind Remus, he watched in dismay as Frost leaned heavily on Logan. He would have to act quickly if he wanted no one else to get hurt.

Roman reached for the earring, but Remus snapped his teeth at him. He growled and stepped back. Remus had been the SkyWing champion for years. There was no way Roman could beat him in a fight. As he stood indecisively, Remus snarled and pounced at him, pushing him onto the ground. 

Roman grunted as he landed on his wings awkwardly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil move forward to help. “No! Stay back!” he shouted. He wasn’t sure why Remus had gone after Virgil instead of him, but Roman was not going to let Virgil get hurt.

He aimed for the earring again. It took a few tries, but he finally managed to get a hold of it. With one forceful tug, he ripped it off his brother’s ear.

Remus roared and clutched his ear, stumbling off of him. He struggled to his feet, watching Remus carefully. He could see blood dripping from where he ripped the earring out. Remus had his back turned to him so he couldn’t see his eyes.

“R-Remus?” he said hesitantly. He didn’t get a response.

Then, almost too quiet to hear. “Roman?”

Roman gasped. He stepped closer, limbs trembling. “I’m- I’m here.”

Slowly, Remus turned, and he finally got a good look at him.

His sash was in tatters, his claws dirty, and he was bleeding from several wounds, but his eyes were normal and that was all that mattered.

Roman felt himself smile. “You’re okay!” he exclaimed, pulling him into a hug. He wrapped his wings around his brother, still not quite believing this was real.

Slowly, very slowly, Remus hugged back.

He was dimly aware that he was crying, but he didn’t care. He had his brother back, and that was all that mattered.

Remus pulled away, quickly wiping away his own tears. “Bet you want an explanation now, huh?”

Roman shook his head. “I do, but… not right now. I- I thought you had done something terrible, Rem.”

Remus’s smile fell. “I-”

“Interesting. I didn’t think you would free him so quickly.” a voice from behind them hissed.

Roman whirled around and his eyes widened in horror. 

The animus was standing at the mouth of the cave.

Roman spread his wings and motioned his friends to stay back. “Don’t come any closer!” he growled at the SandWing.

The animus stared at him quizzically, then chuckled. “You misunderstand me completely. I only want to talk.”

Roman snarled. “Like hell you do. How can you possibly explain putting that spell on Remus?”

“Roman, stop,” Remus said, stepping up beside him. “Just… hear him out.”

He folded his wings in and stared at Remus in shock. Roman had never heard him sound so serious in his life. “But… why?” He was the one that put a spell on you, right?”

“It’s more complicated than that.” Remus wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Virgil stepped forward, baring his teeth. “I don’t care what he has to say. We may have avoided the future where Patton dies, but I don’t trust him. What are we waiting for?”

Roman nodded. “Right. Remus, I’m sorry, but-”

Faster than he could blink, the animus moved and was suddenly holding a knife to his throat.

“Alright, since none of you are willing to listen to me, we’ll just have to do this the hard way,” he said, digging the knife into Roman’s skin just hard enough for it to sting. “You let me take Remus and your Prince into my cave to talk, or I’ll slit his throat.”

To Roman, he whispered, “I’m not going to hurt you or your brother. Just get your friends to leave and I’ll explain everything.”

“What are you doing?” Remus cried. “You better not hurt-”

“Just trust me,” the animus hissed.

Remus hesitated before nodding. “Fine. But if you hurt him, I’ll flay you alive.”

“Understood.”

Meanwhile, Roman’s friends stood frozen to the spot. Frost crouched like she was going to pounce, though she looked like she was going to fall over any moment. Logan’s frill was bristling. Patton’s wings beat furiously. Virgil just stared in shock and horror, his eyes glued to the knife at Roman’s throat. He wanted to tell him that everything was okay, but he wasn’t sure it was.

He gulped. Could he trust this SandWing? He looked at his friends, then back to Remus. If Remus of all dragons could trust this animus, then he could too.

“I’ll be fine!” he called. “You don’t have to worry about me. Just go!”

“No way!” Patton said angrily. “We’re not leaving you with him!”

“He could be under a spell,” Frost snarled. “The animus could be controlling what he’s saying.”

Roman looked desperately between his friends. He racked his brain for something to convince them.

“Wait, hold on.” he started to dig around in his bag until he found it. He took the skyfire and tossed it at Virgil. He caught it, looking confused,

I’m not under a spell! He mentally shouted once he had Virgil’s attention.

Virgil flinched and brought a talon to his head. He stared at Roman, fear mostly replaced with puzzlement.

Just go! I’ll be fine! He thought to Virgil. Trust me. And, in case he wouldn’t get a chance to later, he added, I love you.

Virgil’s eyes widened. He nodded slowly. “We should go,” he said to the others. “I- I think he’ll be fine.”

Patton furrowed his brows. “Are you sure? What did he say?”

“N-nothing important,” he stammered. “Let’s just go.”

One by one, they lifted off into the sky. The animus waited until they were out of sight before he put the knife back into his cloak.

He motioned to his cave. “Let’s head in, shall we?” without waiting for an answer, he walked until he was swallowed up by the darkness of the cave. Remus picked the earring up off the ground before they followed.

The inside of the animus’s dwelling was surprisingly cozy. A small kitchen took up most of the cave. A stone table was squeezed into a corner with a couple of chairs shoved against the wall next to it. Two tunnels branched off on either side of the cave, most likely leading to more rooms.

“You must have many questions,” the animus said. He moved into the kitchen, pouring tea into a small cup. He set them onto the table. “And I promise to answer as many of them as I can, but you may want to ask your brother what happened first.” he took a sip of his tea, staring at them expectantly over the rim of the cup.

Remus sighed. “It all started when I heard rumors of an animus living out here. I sought him out and asked for a… favor.”

Roman shivered. “What kind of favor?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Remus finally met his eyes. “I wanted to get rid of Queen Scarlet.”

Roman was silent for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “Wh- why? She made you her champion! You… were the favorite twin.” he hadn’t realized he was so bitter about it, even though he knew how awful she was.

Remus shook his head angrily. “Roman, you don’t get it, do you?” when he didn’t reply, he added. “I wanted to get rid of her for you. I saw how upset and scared she made you, so I looked for a way to get her off the throne.”

Roman stared at him. “F- for me? But… how did it go so wrong?”

“Roman, you wouldn’t happen to know what a wish dragon is, would you?” the SandWing said, making him jump. He had been so quiet Roman had forgotten he was there.

“N- no, I haven’t,” he replied. “What’s a wish dragon?”

“They’ve had many names in the past, like Dreammakers and Realityshifters, but they’re all the same thing,” the SandWing said, setting down his cup. “They’re like animus dragons, but… different.”

He took a deep breath. “A wish dragon’s magic works differently than an animus’s. They don’t need an object to enchant, or even a dragon.” he lifted a talon, staring at his palm. “Just a wish.”

Roman looked at his brother. “What- what did you wish for?”

“I told you, to get rid of Scarlet.” Remus replied.

“Then, how…”

“It’s not as simple as just making a wish,” the SandWing said. “There’s always a curse to the wish, something to balance the scales. Remus only wanted to get rid of one queen. He ended up trying to kill them all.”

Roman looked at the earring that Remus had set on the table. “If you don’t need an object to enchant, why did you enchant the earring?”

The wish dragon sighed. “I don’t know. Perhaps I hoped someone could break the spell. I don’t actually know the curses before I cast a spell, so I didn’t know that it would turn out this bad.” he nodded at him, and Roman wondered how exactly the SandWing lost his wings. “I’m just glad that someone stopped it.”

Roman looked at his brother and suddenly burst into tears, pulling him into another hug. “Y-you d-didn’t have to,” he choked out between sobs.

Remus tightened his arms around his shoulders. “I know, but I wanted to. Moons, I wanted to do it for ages. If there was a way to do it sooner, I would have.”

They stayed like that for a while until Roman stopped crying. He pulled away, wiping his eyes.

The wish dragon cleared his throat awkwardly. “You two should get going. I’m sure your friends are very worried about you.”

He led them outside. Night had fallen, and Roman was surprised at how long they spent down there. Virgil’s probably freaking out. I hope they’re okay.

As the wish dragon turned to leave, Roman said, “Wait! We never got your name!”

The wingless SandWing paused, contemplating the question. “Janus,” he said finally. “My name is Janus. Don’t go telling everyone that, alright?”

Without waiting for a reply, Janus disappeared back into the cave.

“Janus, huh?” Roman said, lost in thought. “You think we’ll see him again?”

“I really hope not,” Remus said unexpectedly. “He seems nice and whatever, but I don’t think I want to mess with wish magic again.”

“That’s strange, coming from you.”

Remus smirked and punched him in the shoulder. “First time for everything!” he suddenly lifted off into the sky and hovered in place. “Race you back!”

Roman tilted his head. “But you don’t know the way back!”

“I’ll improvise!”

Roman laughed and took off after him, relishing the feeling of being in his brother’s presence again. 

“Not if I get there first!”

.

Virgil was waiting for them back at the tunnels. He jumped as they touched down on the sand and narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“You made it back,” he said to Roman. He sounded casual, but Roman could hear the relief in his voice.

Roman smirked. “Were you worried?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You w-”

“Holy moons, what are you?” Remus interrupted.

Virgil blinked. “Excuse me?”

Remus circled him, muttering to himself. “You’re like a NightWing but… not.”

“Oh. Um, I’m half SeaWing,” Virgil replied, eyeing Remus uncomfortably.

“Hey Remus, why don’t you go introduce yourself to the others?” Roman said, sensing Virgil’s nervousness.

Remus looked at him and Virgil and smirked. “Alright!” he said cheerfully. “Have fun!”

He hopped down the hole, leaving Roman and Virgil alone.

“So, um, what happened with the animus?” Virgil asked, avoiding his gaze.

“I think I want to tell the entire story where everyone can hear it.” Roman said. “What’s wrong? You look all gloomy.”

“I’m not-” Virgil took a deep breath. “Did you mean it? When you said- or thought? Back at the cave?”

Roman tilted his head, feeling his face heat up. “Of- of course I did.” he took Virgil’s talons in his, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Oh well, that’s good,” Roman could feel him relax. “It would’ve been awkward if you didn’t.”

Roman chuckled. “Oh? And why’s that, Stormcloud?”

Virgil looked down at his feet. “Because I love you too or whatever,” he mumbled, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Roman wrapped his wings around the smaller the dragon and twined his tail around his. “Yeah. That is good,”

Virgil looked up at him. “But… you’re a prince. How-”

“I don’t want to think about that right now,” Roman said, resting his chin on Virgil’s head.

Virgil sighed. “Alright.”

They stayed like that in comfortable silence for a little while, until they heard a loud thump beneath them.

“We should probably go check on the others.” Virgil mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed, reluctantly pulling away. “Hopefully, Remus is getting along with everyone else.”

He turned and jumped through the hole, Virgil close behind him. They squeezed into the tunnel to see Remus and Frost wrestling in the middle of the cave while Patton tried in vain to stop them. Logan looked on tiredly.

“Woah, what are you doing?” Roman cried, running over to them.

“Oh, hey Roman, Virgil.” Frost nodded at them from her spot on Remus’s back. “I wanted a rematch. As you can see, I’m winning.” she let him up, giving him a smug look.

“I’m glad to see that you are safe,” Logan said, giving him a small smile. “Would you care to tell us what happened?”

Roman glanced at his brother, who shook his head slightly. He nodded back. “Perhaps I’ll tell you all in the morning? I’m exhausted, after all.”

“That’s alright.” he didn’t miss the way Logan’s voice sank in disappointment.

As they all prepared to settle down for the night, he pulled Remus aside. “Are you alright?”

Remus snorted. “I’m fine! Why do you ask?”

“It’s just… you’ve been through a lot these past few weeks,” Roman said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Remus sighed. “I’m fine. I don’t remember most of it anyway,” after a short pause, he said. “Can I see the earring?”

Roman brought a talon to his bag. “The earring? Why?”

“I just need to see it,” he said. “The spell won’t work anyway, it was a one use thing.”

Roman reluctantly pulled the rose earring out of his bag and handed it to Remus. He studied it for a moment before putting it on his uninjured ear. Roman held his breath, waiting for his eyes to go white, but they were still the same dark green.

Remus grinned. “See, I told you I would be fine!”

Roman smiled in return. “Never doubted you for a second.” he tried to sound reassuring, but secretly he was worried. Remus sounded too casual, too unworried about something as serious as this. At least, he did until he noticed Remus’s tense shoulders and shaking wings.

“Hey Roman, are you coming?” Patton said from the other side of the cave.

Roman looked at where his friends were settling down for the night, then back at Remus. Though he was the biggest of them, he suddenly looked so small in the light of Patton’s torch.

“Actually Patton, I think I’m going to stay here with Remus,” Roman said, glancing at his brother. Remus looked at him with a grateful expression.

“Oh, alright.” Patton said. “Good night, both of you!”

The two brothers curled up back to back like they used to do when they were dragonets. Roman could feel Remus relax as he fell asleep. 

Roman sighed. Maybe not everything was perfect. They definitely had some things to talk about in the morning.

But he had his brother back, and that was all that mattered.

.

“Ah, home sweet home, isn’t it?” 

Roman glanced at Remus. “Well, it’s not sweet, but it's certainly a home.”

After freeing Remus, they had decided to come back to the Sky Palace while Virgil and the others went back to the island. Queen Ruby had welcomed them back with open wings, so here they were, walking the halls of the Sky Palace once again.

“So, what’re you planning on telling our dear sister?” Remus asked. “Not the truth, I hope.”

“No. Not the whole truth, anyway,” Roman said. Hopefully, she believes it.

They stopped right outside the throne room. Roman took a deep breath, and, before he could change his mind, walked in.

The throne room had changed in the time he was gone. Half the gold on the walls was gone, and so was the giant portrait of Queen Scarlet that used to hang behind the throne.

“Your Majesty,” Roman greeted as he bowed. Remus did the same.

“Prince Roman and Prince Remus, I am glad to see that you are safe,” Ruby said. She sounded nothing like Queen Scarlet. “Do you mind telling us who the assassin was?”

He took a deep breath. “The assassin was a SandWing animus, Your Majesty.”

Gasps and whispers erupted around the room. Ruby held up a talon for silence. “How did you manage to kill an animus dragon?” she narrowed her eyes. “You did kill the assassin, right?”

“Y- yes, Your Majesty,” Roman said quickly. He could feel the eyes of the entire court on him. He wondered if they could tell he was lying. 

“Well, I for one would love to know that story.” Ruby said, leaning forward on her throne.

Roman swallowed. “Remus was the one who killed the assassin.”

It took all his willpower to keep looking ahead, even when Remus glanced at him quizzically.

Ruby’s eyes widened. “I’m impressed. In any case, both of you are welcome to stay-”

“I’m not staying.”

He could feel the stare of every dragon in the room on him, but he kept his eyes on his sister.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed, then softened just as quickly. “I- if you no longer want to stay here, then I understand. You’re welcome back in the Sky palace if you ever change your mind.” she nodded at them, and they were dismissed.

Roman and Remus bowed one more time before they turned and walked out of the throne room.

Remus was the first to speak. “I’m an animus slayer, huh? I like the sound of that.” Roman opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut as they walked out onto the balcony overlooking the arena.

Well, what used to be the arena. Queen Ruby had turned it into a hospital, but no matter what she turned it into, nothing could erase the smell of death that was all too familiar.

“I can see why you want to leave,” Remus murmured, joining him on the balcony. 

Roman nodded. “Are you staying?”

Remus contemplated the question, drumming his claws on the railing. “No, I don’t think so,” he said at last.

Roman glanced at him, surprised. “But… you’re the champion!”

Remus nodded at the arena. “Not anymore. Can’t really have fights in the arena if it’s a hospital now,”

Roman hummed in agreement. “So you’re coming to the island with me?” he tried not to show the hopefulness in his voice.

“Of course, brother!” he patted him so hard on the back that he almost fell over. “Who else can keep up with me?”

Roman brushed him away, laughing. “You have a point. You’d be so bored without me!”

“Um, Your Highnesses?” A voice from behind them said.

He whirled around to see a SkyWing dipping her head to them. “There are guards in your room waiting to help you pack your belongings.”

Remus glanced at him. “So, what do you say? Let’s get out of here.”

Roman grinned. “I’d like that.”

.

“Hey, Logan, have you decided yet?”

Logan turned to see Frost walking up to him.

He turned back to the ocean. “I have not, actually. Perhaps I’ll make up my mind tomorrow.”

“That’s when you go back to the rainforest, right?” Frost asked, sitting down beside him.

“Indeed.” for the past few days, Logan has been staying on the island with the others. He was enjoying his time there, but he knew he would eventually have to return to his duties.

“W- well, I hope you choose to stay,” Frost said, staring down at her talons. The water lapped at her claws, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Logan glanced at her, surprised. “Really? I was under the impression that you didn’t like me.”

Frost chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, uh. Sorry about that. But for the record, I think you’re pretty cool.” she glanced at him. “Uh, no pun intended.”

Logan blinked at her, not sure what to make of that. “Uh, thank you. I think.”

Frost nodded. “No problem.”

They sat in silence for a while, watching the sun set. The sand squelched beneath his talons as wave after wave lapped at his claws. It was soothing.

“I do appreciate your… input,” Logan said, breaking the silence. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

Frost patted him on the shoulder, causing him to stumble. “You’d better. And even if you do choose to stay in the rainforest, come visit us.”

Logan offered her a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind as well.”

He turned toward the sunset again. He still wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but the decision making could wait for another day.

For now, he was content to sit with a friend and watch the sun set.

.

Frost was beginning to regret her decision. 

The others had insisted that she didn’t need to go, but she needed closure. She needed to confront her father.

The past few days had been spent trying to find a way to talk to him without being spotted by other IceWings. It wasn’t as hard as she thought it would be. Her father hadn’t changed a bit.

The snow crunched under her talons as she landed. It was strange to be back here, but not unpleasant. She squinted at the sky as the figure of her father flew overhead.

Scratch that. It was definitely unpleasant.

She waited for him to see her, though she knew it wouldn’t take long. Her father’s vision was sharper than an eagle’s.

Within moments, she was standing in front of her father again. He was bigger than she remembered, with a neck longer than one of her arms. He had dark blue triangles like her own under his eyes and along his wings. The scowl on his face was all too familiar.

“So, you came back.” the disappointment in his voice wasn’t new either.

“I’m not coming back,” she said defiantly. She forced herself to stop trembling. “I just want to know why you did it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Did what?”

“Pushed me so hard to be the best,” she said. “I was at the top of the rankings, youngest member of the royal guard, and yet it still wasn’t enough.”

Her father growled. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

Frost dug her claws into the ground. Somehow she knew he would say that.

“Now, give me one reason I shouldn’t turn you in to Queen Glacier right now,” Her father said.

She narrowed her eyes. She knew he was going to ask that question. “Because bringing me back will not only lower my rank, but yours too. Especially if I tell her what I’ve been doing while I was gone.”

Her father growled. “You’ve gotten it all figured out, don’t you?” he lashed his tail. “Your mother would be-”

“Mother is dead.” she hated the way her voice cracked as she said it. “Mother is dead,” she repeated, more steadily this time. “What she would think doesn’t matter because she’s gone.” Frost walked up to her father and jabbed a claw at him. “So don’t even think about playing that card.”

He snarled and slapped her talon away. “I’ll turn you in,” he threatened. “Queen Glacier won’t lower my rank if I’m the one who found you. I’ll get a patrol right now and-”

“And what?” she interrupted. “There’s no one here. By the time you get back, I’ll be long gone, and no one will believe you.”

“I could beat you in a fight without trying,” he said. “I could bring you back by force.”

Frost felt her breath quicken. This was what she had been afraid of. “But are you?”

Her father regarded her with soulless black eyes. “No,” he said at last. “Get out of my sight. I never want to see you again. You’re a disgrace to the IceWing tribe.”

Those words shouldn’t have hurt her, but they did. It was as if he had plunged a spear into her chest.

She didn’t let it show, though. Without replying, she took off into the sky. When she looked back, her father was gone.

She frowned and continued to fly.

She had to admit that that didn’t make her feel as good as she thought it would. She just felt more… hollow, which didn’t make any sense.

She shook her head and continued to fly.

Frost definitely regretted her decision.

.

Patton winced as he stepped on yet another piece of wood. He stopped to pick it out of his palm, then moved on through the debris. 

The wreckage of his boat hadn’t changed one bit.

“Back again?”

Patton jumped and whirled around. Virgil was lounging on one of the bigger pieces of wood.

“Oh, Virgil! What’re you doing here?” Patton said.

“I figured you’d be here,” Virgil replied. “I couldn’t find you anywhere else. And I know it’s not my place to ask, but-”

“Of course you can ask kiddo!” Patton interrupted, walking up to the younger dragon. “I actually wouldn’t mind some company right now.”

Virgil blinked at him, then looked around the wreckage of his boat. “Still trying to figure out a way to get home?”

Patton sighed, feeling his heart sink. “It’s been much too long, Virgil. I was sent to get help, but who will? This continent’s got its own problems.”

“You know, we could help if you want us to,” Virgil said hesitantly.

Patton smiled sadly. “I can’t ask that of you. You don’t want to get tangled up in this web.”

Virgil still wouldn’t give up. “At least let us help you find a way home!”

Patton nodded reluctantly. “Alright.”

He decided not to point out that if they succeeded, Virgil would probably never see him again. He was sure Virgil was painfully aware.

“Do you really think we can do it?” Patton asked after a moment.

Virgil hesitated then nodded. “I think so. One day.”

Patton turned back toward the ocean. Toward his home. 

One day. One day, I will set this right.

.

Virgil rolled the smooth rock around in his palm as he stood on the beach, staring at a distant island.

“Hey Stormcloud, what’re you up to?” Roman announced himself loudly, plopping down beside him. Even sitting down, Roman was taller than him, much to his annoyance.

“I was just about to go visit my mom,” Virgil replied, holding up the rock. He leaned into Roman’s side as he lifted his wing.

“Oh,” Roman said, staring at the rock. “Do... you want company? I’m not busy or any-”

Virgil shook his head, glad Roman couldn’t see the smile on his face. “I’ll be fine. I try to visit her every month, so I’m used to it.”

“Oh,” Roman said again, folding his wing into his side as Virgil pulled away. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not too long,” Virgil said, standing up and touching his nose to Roman’s. He spread his wings and flew into the air. “Tell Patton where I’ve gone, will you?”

Roman nodded.

Virgil turned and flew in the direction of the distant island, clutching the rock close to his chest.

He touched down on the ground and walked over to where his mother was buried. The spot was marked by a tiny gravestone that was etched with his mother’s name. The ground around it was littered with rocks and shells, gifts from past years.

He stepped closer to the grave, careful to not step on any of the shells. Despite what he has told Roman, he always felt a fresh wave of grief come over him everytime he came here.

His mother would have absolutely loved his friends. Logan and his politeness, Patton and his bubbling optimism, Frost and her snarky sarcasm, Remus and his disturbing stories, and Roman-

She would have loved everything about Roman.

Virgil sighed and set the rock down on the pile. “Hey mom,” he started, but stopped when he felt his throat close up. He was always upset whenever he visited her grave, but this time felt… different. Maybe it was the fact that he finally made other friends, and it felt like he was leaving her behind. He just wished he could tell her everything that had happened.

Well, maybe he could try anyway.

“Hey mom,” Virgil said, more steadily this time. “You wouldn’t believe the adventure I went on…”

.

Remus stood at the edge of the cliff, turning the rose earring around and around in his talon. The ocean tore at the rocks below relentlessly, the gray liquid looking more like ice than water. The wind buffeted his wings and threatened to throw him into the sea.

He stared at the earring in his palm. He had searched for Janus for months before he found him in the Scorpion Den. Janus had put the spell on him, and the rest was history. 

Or was it? Remus thought about the lie Roman had told Ruby. They thought he was a hero. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

He wondered how they would react if they knew the truth.

He shook his head and clenched his fist, the earring digging into his palm. The earring had been a gift from Roman for his hatching day a few years ago. He wasn’t sure why he had kept it, other than the fact that he knew Roman would be upset if he got rid of it.

He opened his palm and studied it. The rose was blood red and intricately detailed. Thorns surrounded the flower, wrapping around the base and hanging off the side. It was the most beautiful piece of jewelry Remus had laid his eyes on.

And he never wanted to see it again.

He threw it off the edge of the cliff, watching it hurtle toward the water. He turned and walked away before he could see it crash into the sea.

That was one thing taken care of.

.

Roman looked around the beach, smiling as he saw his friends having fun. Frost and Remus joked and laughed together while Patton and Logan built a sand castle.

“What’re you doing here all by yourself?” Virgil asked as he sat down next to him.

He lifted a wing and Virgil leaned into his side. “Just enjoying the view,” he said, smiling at Virgil.

Virgil rolled his eyes and swatted his arm. “Stop that.”

Roman chuckled. “So did you fix up your hoodie?”

“I had to spend all afternoon fixing it,” Virgil complained, resting his head against Roman’s shoulder. “Turns out you end up having to fix a lot of holes in your hoodie when you fly across the continent looking for an assassin.” he paused for a moment. “How is Remus doing anyway?”

Roman looked at his brother, who was in what looked like a heated debate with Frost. “He’s not completely back to normal, but I think he’s doing okay.”

Virgil sighed in content. “That’s good. I haven’t talked to him much, but he seems cool.”

Roman nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

“Hey Roman!” Frost shouted. “We need your opinion on something! It is very important!”

Patton giggled. “Better go see what they want!”

“Please,” Logan said tiredly. “They’ve been arguing for hours.”

Virgil laughed, prodding him with his wing. “You better get going, Your Highness.”

Roman huffed. “I’m going, I’m going.” he acted annoyed, but he could barely stifle a grin.

Maybe not everything was perfectly okay, (The rose earring was gone, for example. He wondered what had happened to it) but all his friends were alive and happy.

And that was all that mattered.

[treeni]

For Your Entertainment

Day 4 - There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been. (I know its late, I forgot to post here)

Prinxieceit

Wordcount: 5688

TW: Swearing, I may have to accept swearing’s a default of my writing and not swearing is the abnormal. Heights. Abusive past (sad but not graphic) Non cannon blind character, (Avatar-esque level jokes about said blindness (think Toph)) mentions character experiencing homophobia and disable-phobia. Crime?

Summary:  If you were lucky, the world would be suddenly bathed in color at sunset or sunrise. Trails of colors left by your soulmate suddenly appear. For the first time, Roman was seeing the colors he had heard so much about in storybooks, that he’d heard even Remus talk about. Finally, finally he was on a quest to follow them.

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taglist: @tsshipmonth2020 

Roman took a deep breath. In slowly, hold, and breathe out. He stared down at the crowd of what had to be a couple thousand people, maybe more. The bright lights obscured him from being able to truly take stock even from his position so high up. He rocked on his feet once, the nervous energy still shaking his knees just slightly.

And then he jumped.

Roman arched his back and stretched his legs forward with pointed toes to pick up speed quickly, his white leotard stretched familiarly with his movements like a second skin. The shimmering red accents caught the light and the audience gasped as he let one hand move from the aerial swing to pose for the cameras as Remus mirrored his movements in his own black and green leotard while swinging the opposite direction.

The biggest difference between the twins in their joint performances was that while Roman’s face was always a neutral and calm mask of concentration, Remus face was invariably stretched in a huge, toothy grin as he gave into the freedom and adrenaline rush of their careers. He truly was in his element whenever they practiced or performed. Roman? Less so. It’s not that he didn’t like it, he loved the crowds, the reactions of the audience gasping, and awing at their every trick, it’s just... he wanted something more. Something a little less mindless, something he could get lost in the way his brother lost himself in the rush. Maybe singing? Or acting? Or both? Maybe he could bring it up to their ringmaster sometime?

Remy was open for ideas wasn’t he?

Maybe going to his husband Emile about it first would be safer.

The performance was a constant back and forth between the twins, one brother constantly grabbing hold of the other brother and swinging them into the air, then catching them again on their decent. The had to be in perfect sync and over the years the two learned to read each other’s body language as easily as an open book. Or a hidden diary in Remus’ case. Several minutes in with a head rush of seemingly countless tricks and Roman felt like he was settling into the groove of the performance. He was amping up for the big show stopper soon and shook his metallic gold cuff at his brother, catching the light just so in order to signal for him to get ready. Just in time too it seemed, as a blinking stage light was signaling to them both that they needed to wrap it up soon for the next performance.

Light reflected from Remus’ own silver cuff. One, two, three flashes. He was ready and waiting. Roman nodded, mostly to himself and poised himself to go as Remus swung down first. It took a few trips back and forth while beating his legs to and fro for him to build up the momentum he needed and then he was up, up, up in the air, twirling in three consecutive cartwheels on the way down. As he descended, Roman took off, grabbing hold of Remus’ swing on the way and catching his brother as he turned in the air at the last possible second to avoid certain doom. Or at least, what appeared to be certain doom to the audience. Their job was never absolutely safe, but they did have certain safety precautions in place just in case, particularly a hidden net. If there was one thing that Remy was adamant about, it was that no one was permanently hurt on his watch, not after Emile... well....

Anyway. It was a split second maneuver as Roman twisted and worked off the momentum Remus’ fall added to their now joint swing as Remus in turn tossed Roman high into the air. Roman pulled his arms in with his ankles crossed and twirled as fast as he could, like an ice skater performing an axel spin. One, two, three, four, five, six, he pushed for just one more before letting his limbs free and reaching out to Remus’ already outstretched arm, ready to catch him. Catch him he did as the two swung together to Remus’ starting side. With a flourish, the two bowed together in perfect unison, but Remus broke the synchronicity so he could pretend he was going to fall off the stand. As the audience gasped in horror, he pretended to catch himself at the last possible second, much to the public’s relief. Roman suppressed shaking his head and gave the audience one last wave as they exited to the backstage area and away from audience view. Pretending doom was inevitable was one of Remus’ very favorite tricks.

“Ro that was amazing! I didn’t know you managed to pull off another spin!” Remus cheered, throwing an arm around his shoulders in a side hug.

It wasn’t really amazing. He’d seen Remus practice the very same trick and regularly hit eight spins, nine when he was really pushing himself. However, Roman couldn’t pull off the cartwheel trick in the same way that Remus could. It disoriented him too much. When he tried it during practice, he usually faltered at the end, nearly missing Remus’ grip. It was too dangerous to attempt in front of an audience right now and Remy refused to approve it until he made better progress. Remus never said a negative word about it, but Roman knew he was the weaker link of the two. Twins or no, Roman couldn’t quite move the way Remus could. He was stronger, sure, but less flexible, while Remus moved like a living rubber band.

“Hey, what’s with that face Ro?” Remus asked, hip bumping him playfully.

“Nothing...just...” Roman started with a sigh. “have you ever wanted to do something else?”

“Like what?” Remus asked blinking, as if the thought had never crossed his mind before.

“I dunno... something.”

Roman wanted to write, to sing, to dance, to paint, to act, he wanted to do so, so many things that didn’t involve variations of the same routine again and again, night after night.

“Well you know me, I’m always open for ideas!” Remus exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air to show his excitement at the prospect of change. “I want to hear everything! Let’s work on-”

Annnnnnd he was gone. Remus had stopped mid-sentence going googly eyed as he always did when his soulmate, Patton, walked into their general vicinity. He was decked out in a leotard similar to their own in a soft baby blue, with the added bonus of a floofy cyan skirt that matched his soft pleather shoes.

“You both did great out there!” Patton exclaimed with a big toothy grin, reaching to Remus with grabby hands for a hug that was readily returned.

“You really think so?!” Remus asked, nearly bouncing on his feet at the praise.

“Of course I do Inky!” Patton responded with equal enthusiasm and kissed his nose. They were supposed to use their stage names around the audience, but Patton had a habit of using them as affectionate pet names in equal measure. Remus quickly responded with a raspberry kiss on his neck that left Patton in a fit of giggles.

Roman rolled his eyes. Of course Patton thought so. He literally said it every performance.

“I thought you did great too Charm, dad said you got an extra spin tonight!”

“Yeah he did! He was really great out there Drift! The crowd ate it up!”

Unlike Roman and Remus, Patton wasn’t allowed to pick his stage name. Well, he was, as the story goes, until he tried to pick ‘Kitten.’ Emile had been okay with it, but Remy had put his foot down, saying it would make people think too much of another kind of performance. Plus, Patton wanted to teach classes to kids and he wouldn’t be getting any parental sign-ups with that kind of a stage name. Drift was a compromise that was a nod to the shoes he was filling as he took over Emile’s performance.

The loudspeaker crinkled to life with a tinny, electronic buzz. “Hey, ya’ll, have you been enjoying tonight?”

The crowd sounded out their appreciation.

“Oh, I’m sorry babes, but I can’t hear you. Wanna try that again?”

The crowd screamed louder.

From their spot hidden away, Roman could spot Remy center stage in a relaxed position with a hand on his hip. He always had such a strange demeanor for a ringleader. Sometimes he’d literally just walk on stage, take a seat on a stool and spend a few minutes loudly sipping from the straw of his coffee, doing literally nothing else. Roman really couldn’t fathom why audiences seemed to think it was so funny, but they invariably did. Eventually one of the performers would usually come out and start to pull off some tricks behind his back or Emile would enter the stage decked out in his clown costume and make the audience laugh with various tricks that were mainly at Remy’s expense.

Their ring leader had been shot in the face with a water gun many of times while Emile quoted Toy Story for the kids. Anyone else would have suffered consequences for that kind of behavior, but Emile?

Emile invariably was given a soft, amused look in return and sometimes Remy would even pull out a water gun of his own and shoot his husband back.

“Much better. Let me introduce to you, my favorite, and the very best of our sorry lot! Our graceful tightrope walker Drift!”

The audience cheered again, but got louder still when Remy muttered into the microphone, “Yeah, you better cheer, that’s my son ya’ll.”

It was only mildly threatening.

“That’s my cue I guess,” Patton said, shaking his head at Remy’s antics. He gave Remus a single kiss on the cheek before hurrying to his place on stage.

Even just that was enough to push a dopey looking grin on Remus’ stupid face.

Roman gagged.

The tightrope walker didn’t know it, but Remus rushed off to the rafters with barely a wave in Roman’s direction as he hurried off, just as he did every time Patton performed. Roman pushed away his annoyance at their cut-off conversation. He honestly didn’t expect anything else. As always, Remus sat by one of the stage lights, waiting and watching closely with a taut rope in hand. He was at the ready to swing in like god damn Tarzan just in case anything went wrong.

Not that it would.

Roman was good at his trade. Remus was great at it. However, Patton grew up on the tight rope. It was as familiar to him as walking on solid ground, maybe more so. The boy’s performance was practically a grand pas on a stupidly thin surface with gymnastic moves thrown in for flair. Roman was always most impressed by his ability to fluidly fall into a split, on a rope, without his hands, like it was easy. Patton was truly the star of their little show and Roman was certain he could have gone to the Olympics as a gymnast if he was ever so inclined.

Despite his past, and despite his unquestionable ability, Patton was very much like Roman in one very important way. Neither were satisfied by their performances alone. The two had long conversations about it over the years, especially when Remus was off adding to his seemingly endless skill set as he learned the most obscure of abilities from other performers. Unlike Remus thrived in all of the oddity, Patton wanted to do something that helped people, something social. He had never settled on exactly what, but he always insisted that it didn’t matter anyway, because he couldn’t bring himself to leave his parents behind. Remus’ sheer love of it all only solidified his stance and made him want to stay even more. However, they managed to work in some end-of-matinee kiddy classes to satiate his need for interaction. The twins helped too, well, Roman helped by acting as a second pair of hands that made sure no small children lost their balance too badly on the low bar that Patton taught them how to use. Remus “helped” by coming out in a plushy monster costume toward the end of the lessons and kidnapping “the princess,” which forced the kids into a course that utilized their newly taught skills so they could make a rescue attempt. The whole thing usually ended with Remus being squashed by a gaggle of small children who would beat him with foam swords while he played dead. Meanwhile, Patton would watch him fondly from behind the very crowd of children who saved him.

Roman shook his head of the thought just as Patton gave his closing performance bow. The two truly were the funniest of pairs, but they worked somehow. Patton seemed to thrive off of Remus’ near endless enthusiasm and Remus in turn flourished with Patton’s endless patience.

The rest of the show moved in a blur as Roman waited for it all to end. He was anxious for it to be over, anxious for time to pass already. It was their first day in a new city and he was waiting for his freedom to explore it. Roman was only brought back into focus when Remus and Patton gathered him for the final bow as Remy closed out the show. It was nearing sunset and part of their deal was that the first performance at any one location would end early enough that the performers would have the sunset free to do as they wished.

Most of the ones like Roman were just as anxious as him to explore, to catch sight of a wisp of glowing color that was only revealed in the light of a sunset or sunrise. There were apparently all sorts of scientific reasons why it happened, something about the specific light rays that hit and soul auras. Roman didn’t care enough about the how to really look much into it. All he cared about was the why. The why was being able to see the aura left behind that day by your soulmate. The why was being able to find them.

The why was why he was here.

Roman and Remus grew up in a shitty home, but that was no strange story to hear among the circus folk. Patton was pretty unique in sheer support and love Remy and Emile showed him. Then again, maybe he wasn’t. The power couple acted as group parents in a way and looked out for all of their performers. Remy would bring Roman hot chocolate on days he was particularly disheartened and sometimes Emile would kidnap him to watch Disney movies together. Still, there was a reason two sixteen-year-olds found their way to the circus in the first place. There was a reason they left their old, broken lives behind. It seemed to be fate alone that led to Remus seeing and subsequently following the glowing cyan trail all the way to a tightrope dancer in the middle of a show. It was the only time Remus actually had to catch Patton in the years since they’ve known him. The chubby cheeked, fresh faced, fourteen year old performer had gotten distracted by Remus’ sudden green shine and slipped right off. Without even thinking about it, Remus dove to save him from disaster, well perceived disaster. Still, the crowd ate it up and the reporters in attendance that night labeled him a hero in the next day’s papers.

Emile immediately invited Remus for dinner that night with them as a thank you for “saving” their son. When the couple heard about Remus’ living situation, a dead father and a drunk mother, they offered him a place with them. They showed him how to fill out emancipation forms and gave him all of the instructions he would need. They also told him to think hard about what he wanted before deciding. Remus came home with his arm full of forms and big bright eyes telling Roman the story of his soulmate. How he had found his true love and he wanted the two of them to run away together to the circus so he and Roman would be free.

And... honestly how could Roman ever say no to that?

Roman could still remember the conversation they had that night.

“Do you think mom and dad were soulmates?” Remus had asked him then as they rapidly packed their necessities, and only looking back did he realize how thin his gaunt his brother looked. Roman hadn’t realized they were underfed until they just... weren’t anymore.

“Yeah, Rem, I do,” Roman remembers saying at the time. He still believes it too. He could remember the soul crushing expression on his mother’s face when she got the call about the accident. He could still picture the hollow, dejected look that never left her eyes even as she searched at the bottom of bottle after bottle in hope of finding some peace. She didn’t know how to live without him it seemed. At the time, Roman couldn’t help but feel guilty leaving her behind, but he would have felt worse if Remus gave up his chance at happiness.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure if Remus would have gone through with it if Roman refused. A small part of him was scared his brother would have left him behind. A bigger part of him was scared he wouldn’t have. Roman couldn’t have put him into that situation, choosing between his twin and his soulmate. He refused to. So off to the circus they went and at the circus they’ve been since. It’s been just over a decade now and while it wasn’t the life Roman imagined for himself in the days Roman and Remus would whisper what they’d do when they were finally on their own while their mother drank away her problems in the living room, it wasn’t a bad life.

He just was ready for something more.

The crowd had barely filed out before Remus had grabbed onto his usual rope to swing around the tent and rapidly opening all of the flaps while Patton did the same on foot. The two worked to let in as much light from the setting sun as possible. On evenings like these the couple would sit together in the rafters, hip to hip and hand in hand, watching each other’s soul light bounce around the stage, mimicking their performances in high speed. Meanwhile Roman slipped away and took to the street towards the town.

One perk of his job was that parkour came easily and up the buildings he went to find himself at higher ground like an everyday comic book superhero. Sometimes Roman liked to imagine what it would be like to be in a comic book. What kind of powers would he have? Character flaws? Would he be a hero? Would a comic book Roman still feel so lonely?

He jumped to the next roof.

No glowing mist.

Not that he really knew what it looked like, just what it was supposed to look like according to Remus and Patton. Not that either were the best at explaining.

He knew it looked like a light, but colorful. Like mist, but stringy, streaming. Like water. Like neon. And the description he hated most of all, like nothing he’d ever seen before.

How was he supposed to know what to look for if he didn’t know what it looked like?

Roman jumped to the next roof.

He stared down at the people crowded on the streets below and was suddenly thankful for additional height. He’d never be able to sweep the city for any remnants of glow from down there, the pushy crowd of endless people would both get in his way and block his vision. Plus, as used to he was swinging through the air unobstructed, being pushed into a tight space while completely surrounded by sweaty, gross bodies sounded like a special kind of hell. He wasn’t sure how their audience ever managed it.

He groaned at the height difference of his current building and the next one, before leaping across to grab a window ledge, only to find himself in a upward climb to the roof. He wished he brought a bottle of water, but knew in reality it was a terrible idea. Water would just slosh in his stomach uncomfortably and the bottle could leave condensation on his hands, which in his shoes could be fatal. He got to the top with a grunt, ready to call it for a five minute break when-

When he saw something.

It was barely there anymore, but he scaled down the building as fast as his hands and feet would go, taking leaps and shortcuts he generally wouldn’t risk in order to get down there faster. He lucked out making it down unscathed, knowing that even Remus would have lectured him about a particularly dodgy jump (and when Remus lectured him, you knew he was being stupid) but his quick ascent allowed him to catch the last bits of a rapidly fading yellow trail. It faded from beginning to end, so he must have been closer to earlier parts, he thought as he pumped his legs, trying to keep pace with the lights that moved so much faster than him.

God the sun would be setting soon.

He was determined dammit!

Roman did as he did best and started to swing between the buildings, grabbing hold of a balcony here, a light post there, anything that he could that allowed him forward momentum at a faster pace than he could run it. People dodged out of his way, but he didn’t care as he was finally beginning to keep pace with it. The problem was that eventually the city ended.

He was back on his feet, running as fast as he could manage across open field, trying to defy the odds and keep up with the light that was rapidly denigrating before his eyes, focused on nothing but finding the end of it.

Then it was gone.

His surroundings were bathed in darkness as the very last remnants of the setting sun disappeared before his eyes. He finally looked up to take stock of his surroundings and found himself confused to be back in front of the circus tent he had just vacated earlier. There was no way that his soulmate was one of their crew, he would have known by now.

It must have been someone in the audience.

Oh god, but there were so many of them!

That didn’t help at all! Even if Remy gave him the list of attendees, he’d never be able to cross them all off before they were packing up again! He groaned and wanted to collapse where he stood. He wanted to fall into the grass and let himself sink until into the muddy, crummy underbelly of the earth as it swallowed him up and he rejoined the celestial plane. Screw this physical plane bullshit.

Instead he sighed, his shoulders slumped dejectedly as he headed to his trailer. At least he knew they were somewhere here. He just thought that he’d finally have a story of immediately finding them as soon as he caught sight of that beautiful, golden light that danced through the streets the way smoke weaved away from a warm candle. Like waves ebbing and flowing into each other. Like nothing he’d ever seen before.

At least he understood what that meant now.

For now, he was going to sleep away his depression so he could try to convince Remy to let him out of tomorrow’s show. Tomorrow’s started before the sun set, but decidedly ended much after and he wanted to get another look around town.

Roman paused in his gait, thankful that he had worn cloth slip-ons for balance. It had the added benefit of keeping his foot steps near-silent.

There was an odd clicking noise coming somewhere from his trailer. Roman tip-toed around it, keeping himself minimizing even the sound of his breathing. He was effectively impossible to notice, especially compared to the residual noise of the others shuffling around their general campsite. Roman wasn’t sure what to think when he found a hooded boy sitting at the side door of his trailer, with his ear pressed against a door as his hands... wait was that a lock pick?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Roman demanded when he stopped in front of the boy- no man, he realized as he rapidly stood up and easily matched Roman’s height.

The guy looked around rapidly, searingly, but his gaze didn’t settle despite Roman standing just in front of him. Now that they were face to face, Roman got a look at his eyes, even with the rapid movement. They were big and beautiful, despite the messy, dark makeup framing them and they sparkled a light lilac color, nearly white. A realization struck Roman and he deliberately he cleared his throat. The face finally settled its search to point in his direction. He was blind.

“You uh... probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” the guy said, shoving the hands in his hoodie pockets.

“Try me,” Roman retorted. “I think the least I deserve is an explanation for why someone is trying to break into my trailer.”

“Your trailer?” The guy asked with a head tilt.

“Yes, my trailer,” Roman said, putting emphasis on every word. Why did he look so disbelieving?

“Right,” the man replied and pulled one hand out of his pocket to reach down for a white cane Roman hadn’t noticed before. “Would you believe me if I said I was looking for something for my soulmate?”

“I doubt you could look for much,” Roman said automatically, but horror overtook him as he realized the words that had tumbled out of his mouth.

Shit he’d been hanging around with Remus too much.

“I’m so sorry, that was insensitive of me, I-”

Roman was bewildered to see the man laughing as he leaned his weight on the cane for balance rather than direction.

“You got me there dude,” he said with a snort.

“No, please don’t forgive me so easily for that, that was uncalled for. I’ve had a frustrating day and I should not be taking it out on you,” Roman said with a groan, still in disbelief of what he let himself say.

“Nice to see you’re worried about the feelings of the man who tried to break into your trailer.”

“I do when I misdirect my anger. If I was going to make fun of you, it should have been related to the crime. Instead, my usual foot in mouth syndrome around cute men took over and I said what is probably the worst possible thing.”

“So you think I’m cute?”

Roman just groaned. There was no winning this conversation.

“I’m Virgil,” the hooded man said, finally taking pity on him while reaching out a hand.

“Roman, but you might have heard of me as Charm,” Roman said the stage name with a sigh, as if the name alone was exhausting, but shook the offered hand and tried not to think about how soft those long, pretty fingers were.

“Oh! We went to your performance today. I heard it was amazing.”

“Heard? But if you went to it wouldn’t you have...” Roman trailed off and immediately groaned, realizing his mistake.

Virgil was laughing at him again.

Roman willed the earth to swallow him whole for a second time that night.

“So, Roman, what would it take for a guy to get an escort home around here?” Virgil asked with a cheeky grin.

“Despite what my brother might insist, we’re not those kind of performers,” Roman shot back just as quick, finally able to contribute to the joke.

Virgil paused and Roman knew it was impossible, but it felt like man was checking him out.

“That’s too bad,” Virgil breathed with a smirk. “Sometimes it can be hard to find my way home this late at night.”

Roman snorted at the brazen impossibility of the statement as Virgil reached in his direction. Roman granted him mercy and took his hand, but he hadn’t been anticipating him slotting their fingers together.

“Walk with me?” Virgil asked, playfully bumping his shoulder into Roman’s.

Roman chided himself for automatically nodding, but Virgil seemed to get the idea somehow as he tugged lightly on their joined hands, pulling him forward without even a verbal confirmation. From there the two of them strolled through the city, keeping even a pace that could be best classified as a dawdle. Virgil seemed intent on taking his time as the two slunk along. Honestly, Roman didn’t even mind that much because otherwise he’d probably be in the corner of his trailer, sobbing as that performance’s makeup ran down his face in harsh, ugly lines.

“Tell me a boring fact about yourself,” Virgil said suddenly, not even pausing in his gait.

“Wouldn’t most people wan’t to hear an interesting fact?” Roman asked with an eyebrow raise.

Apparently Virgil could hear the gesture in his tone because he gave a shit-eating grin in return.

“Interesting facts are too much pressure,” Virgil shrugged, “Plus you work in a circus and try to fall to your death for a living, that’s already inherently interesting.”

“It’s not exactly trying to fall,” Roman defended, but conceded at Virgil’s own eyebrow raise. “Alright... uh... I hate sleeping with socks on.”

“Ha, me too,” Virgil agreed with a nod. “Janny always wears them and I don’t understand how it doesn’t drive him nuts.”

“Janny?”

“Oh shit, I mean Janus,” Virgil said, but seemed amused at his own slip-up. “Don’t tell him I called him that when we meet up with him.”

Roman swallowed and couldn’t help the disappointment building up in his gut.

“Is that your soulmate?” He found himself asking, if only to punish himself because he was already pretty sure of the answer.

“Mmmm, yeah,” Virgil agreed with a fond look that consisted of crinkled eyes with a little half smile. It was such a soft and endearing look and Roman wanted to cry.

Why didn’t anyone look at him like that?

“With the whole not being able to see anything, much less these “soul light” things I keep hearing about, it was up to Janny to find me, got me out of a shit situation too.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, apparently being disabled was already pushing the envelope for my family, but gay with a male soulmate too? That was just too much for them. I was instantly kicked out. We barely just met, but he immediately made sure I was taken care of. Even offered to find a way for me to stay somewhere else if I was uncomfortable staying with him.”

“Did you?” Roman asked. This Janus guy deserved a medal or something.

“Yeah actually, chilled with his co-worker Logan for a bit, cool guy, bit of a neat freak though. Didn’t stay too long though. Janus came and checked on me every day and well... its hard not to care for someone who makes it so abundantly clear they care for you.”

“A love story of the ages from there?” Roman teased, giving their intertwined hands a playful squeeze.

“Something like that.”

“I’ve always loved stuff like that,” Roman muttered in admission.

“Like what?” Virgil asked, stopping his trek and pulling Roman to stop too.

“Love stories... soulmate stories, the whole deal,” Roman said wistfully. He loved them more than anything because he wanted them more than anything. “I look at every stop we make to see if I can catch sight of mine. I feel like I’m so close!”

“That’s... actually really good to hear,” Virgil muttered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Virgil said, and reached forward to a door that Roman hadn’t noticed before. “Don’t freak out too much, he’s got perfect aim, I promise.”

What?

Virgil pulled Roman inside without another word. Roman was just about to ask just what that was supposed to mean, when a throwing knife whizzed passed him and landed in the wood of the door mere centimetres from his face!

What the fuck?

“Who the hell is he and where the fuck have you been Virgil?! You’ve been out all night! Do you have even the slightest idea how dangerous it is out there for-”

“For someone like me?” Virgil asked with a huff as an, admittedly attractive man with a snake tattoo covering half of his face stomped straight up him.

The man put a hand on each of Virgil’s shoulders and literally shook him and demanded, “Do. You. Have. Any. God damn. Sense. Of fucking. Self preservation?!”

“None whatsoever,” Virgil deadpanned.

Absolutely savage.

The man sighed and slumped forward, letting his forehead rest against Virgil’s shoulder as he balled his gloved hands into the fabric of his hoodie.

“Aww, giving up already Janny? You haven’t even asked about your present yet.”

Oh! This was the soulmate. Suddenly his distraught reaction made a lot of sense.

Didn’t explain the knife though.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours,” Janus moaned in return. “You’re never leaving this god damn house again, I swear. You’re going to be the death of me.”

Virgil just snorted in return and motioned for Roman to move closer to them and out of the way as he used his cane to push open a curtain.

Then something beautiful happened.

No, something absolutely, astoundingly magical happened.

The room suddenly lit up in purple and gold as the first light of sunrise peeked through the window.

Virgil and Janus were literally glowing.

Roman watched as Virgil carefully tipped up Janus’ chin up, forcing him to face the sudden new lights streaming in and Janus let out a gasp.

“...Red,” he muttered breathily before he whipped around to look Roman’s way. For the first time, Roman could see the beautiful, two toned eyes that stared at him as if he were some kind of dream. “It’s you.”

[fieryanmitsu]

Worthy | A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020 – Day 1 (Itaru/Izumi)

I AM SO LATE, but welcome to my first entry for the A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020!

This writing event is being hosted by @A3!_69min on Twitter and AO3 and focuses on writing romantic fics for unpopular A3! pairings. As it happens, every single Izumi pairing except Sakyo/Izumi is a rare pair per the event’s definition of rare pair.

SO, MY GOAL IS TO WRITE IZUMI SHIPS ALL WEEK!

Of course, I’m starting off with my OTP – I love ItaIzu so much, I’ll take any excuse to write them.

WORTHY

PROMPTS: Adoration / Jealousy

CHARACTERS: Itaru Chigasaki, Izumi Tachibana

PAIRINGS: Itaru/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

Izumi was curious.

The question had been on her mind all day since her conversation with Muku over breakfast. The middle schooler had been excitedly telling her all about the shojo manga he was currently reading. Apparently, he hadn’t slept well the night before because he had gotten worked up over the latest chapter.

“You’re staring a hole into my head,” her boyfriend remarked suddenly, though his eyes never left the television screen in front of him, his thumbs flying across his controller.

Itaru was playing some kind of action-adventure game and was currently exploring an underground dungeon with his character. Ever since she had mentioned that she liked the background music, he played this particular game whenever he had to wait for her to finish reviewing her post-rehearsal notes.

“Oh, sorry – I was just… curious about something. But, it’s a bit, er, awkward to ask about…” Izumi responded, one hand fidgeting with the pages of her notebook and the other absentmindedly poking the back of her pen into the Poyo – some pink, round mascot character that Itaru liked – cushion on her lap.

“Oh? Why don’t you try me?”

“Well… I was talking to Muku this morning about the shojo manga he’s reading. There was a scene where the rival character was confessing to the heroine. It was apparently a very heartfelt and passionate declaration of love. Something about how even seeing her with the other guy made his heart feel like it was being torn apart by knives. And that he hated seeing her cry because of that other guy and that he’d give up everything to whisk her away and make her happy. It ended with him asking the heroine to pick him instead.”

“Ahhh, yeah, that’s a classic. Never fails to stir up the fans,” Itaru responded with a knowing nod.

“And then, Muku gave me a 20-minute seminar on classic shojo jealousy scenes and, uh, well… They were more, um, thrilling than I expected? Sooooo, it kinda just, you know… made me wonder,” Izumi stiltedly blurted out. She couldn’t believe she was going to ask him this – her face was already flushed with embarrassment. Maybe Muku’s starry-eyed wonder was contagious. “Do you, umm… ever get jealous of seeing me with other guys?”

“Uh… I’m not sure how to tell you this, but you have twenty other guys, twenty-one if you count Kamekichi, hanging off you – sometimes literally – every single day. If I got jealous every time one of them sat next to you, I’d be six-feet under already.”

“Okay, yeah, that was dumb question – let me rephrase it!” Izumi backpedaled frantically. “What would you do if someone else confessed their love to me – like they were trying to steal me away? Would you be jealous? Would you fly into a blind rage? Or pin me against a wall and forcefully kiss me?! Or barge in and passionately declare: ‘Choose me, not him’?!”

“Man, you really are starting to sound like Muku – all of those options sound awful, by the way. But, in all seriousness, I, uh… don’t think that would ever happen,” he responded with a nervous chuckle.

Izumi felt herself deflate a bit, unable to help feeling just a teensy bit disappointed that he had shot down her fantasies so quickly. At the same time, she wasn’t sure that she could even imagine him acting that way. She just felt like… it wouldn’t be Itaru anymore – and that thought also made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe this whole jealousy thing wasn’t as exciting as she had thought it would be a few minutes ago.

As her thoughts came full circle, she suddenly heard an odd sound from the television. She had been watching Itaru play this game for a few days now and recognized the sounds his character made when he was dying. Thinking that he was losing against a boss, Izumi glanced at the screen and saw that he was just fighting a bunch of normal enemies. She noted that the usual boss music wasn’t playing, either. Yet, his health bar was slowly, but surely, depleting.

Thinking it was strange for him to be playing so badly, Izumi shifted her attention from the television screen to look at Itaru. What she saw made the blood in her veins turn to ice. Unceremoniously throwing her notebook and poor Poyo to the floor, she practically hurled her body across the empty space between them.

Itaru had taught her the basics of how to use his GameStation when she had borrowed a Blu-ray movie from a friend, and she knew that, if she pressed the middle button on his controller, it would bring the user back to the home screen. Reaching over his arm, she pushed down on the middle button and a blue screen immediately popped up, effectively pausing the game. Gently prying the controller away from Itaru’s limp hands, she set it down on his coffee table before she turned off the television screen.

“Itaru, what’s wrong?” she asked worriedly, placing a hand on one of his arms and squeezing it gently.

The salaryman’s brow was furrowed, and he kept his face averted from hers, gaze trained on the floor. Even from his profile, she could see that his mouth was set in a firm and tight line. It had been a long time since she’d seen him make this expression.

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to say,” he responded after a long pause.

Izumi could feel her stomach drop. She had heard those words before – it had been right before her last breakup. She had thought things were going well between them, but maybe she was wrong…?

“Why don’t you try me?” she prompted, trying to keep her voice light as she imitated his words from earlier.

At the same time, she did her best to brace her heart, despite that it was starting to beat erratically. Whatever he said, she would graciously accept it – telling herself that she couldn’t afford to have things be awkward between them.

“Getting jealous over someone… it only happens when you don’t want them taken away from you, right?” Itaru said slowly, deliberately. “So… I don’t think I could ever be jealous… because… I… I don’t feel that way.”

Izumi couldn’t have possibly braced hard enough for that kind of impact. She could feel a hot feeling well up in her throat and tears were already prickling at the back of her eyes.

“Does… Does that mean you don’t want to be with me, anymore?” she asked, unable to help the waver in her voice.

Her question hung in the air unanswered as she watched him clench and unclench his hands on his lap, his eyes still stuck on the floor.

“Itaru, will you look at me? Please?” she begged. She was starting to feel light-headed and she just… She just needed to ground herself somehow.

After a long moment, he shifted his position to angle himself towards her on the couch, though his eyes remained downcast.

Izumi gently cupped his face in her hands and lifted his head to level with her own. She could feel his jaw clenched beneath her palms.

“Itaru, talk to me,” she coaxed gently, fighting to keep her voice steady. “What did you mean earlier?”

Though he didn’t move her hands away, he continued to avert his eyes.

“I… I can’t be jealous,” he began quietly. “Because… if someone else confessed to you, it’d be better that way. I’d be happy.”

“Why would you say that?” Izumi demanded, her tone coming out harsher than she had intended. She inhaled deeply to try and calm herself, though her brain was still rattled by his words. “Weren’t you the one who confessed to me first, Itaru? You asked me to give you a chance, so why would you think that way?”

A long moment passed between them in silence, but Izumi could see Itaru’s emotions warring on his face. She didn’t dare breathe until he finally opened his mouth again.

“Sometimes… I think it was a mistake that I asked you out,” he said quietly, his voice cracking as he continued on. “The more time I spend with you… the more I think about how… how you deserve someone better than me.”

Suddenly, she felt a wet sensation tickle against her fingers. As tears fell from his magenta-coloured eyes, Izumi was struck by several emotions.

The first was awe. For the first time, she understood what it meant when people said that there were beautiful criers. Though she knew that it was morbid, at that moment, she truly thought that Itaru was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, even as tears blotted his cheeks and turned his eyes red.

The second was sorrow. She felt unspeakable sadness that this person before her had struggled through so much in his life that he felt unworthy of being with someone he professed to love and thought that she would be better off without him.

Anger was the third. She was angry at herself for being unable to reassure him, to stop him from feeling this way despite the amount of time they had already spent together.

Last of all, she felt a surge of… something. She had only been in a couple of casual relationships before, and none of them as passionate as the one she had experienced with Itaru in the past half a year. Nor were any of them as comfortable as what she felt when she was with him. Spending time with Itaru both calmed her and brought butterflies to her stomach. Never in her life had she felt like she mattered as much as she did than when this man looked at her.

Was this love? She didn’t know, since she had no landmark to compare it against. But, what she was sure of was that she didn’t want to see Itaru look this way. She wanted to see him with his usual crooked smirk, just like the one he always gave when he teased her. She wanted to see his eyes crinkle like they did when he won a game. She wanted to see a smile on his face – like the one that bloomed across his face whenever the curtains fell after a successful Spring Troupe performance.

 She didn’t know when it had started, but she was crying as well.

 “Itaru,” she started, ignoring the salty taste in her mouth as her tears rolled past her lips, turning his face in an attempt to meet his gaze. “You… You don’t mean that, do you.”

 “I do,” he said firmly, still refusing to look her in the eye. Instead, he took her hands in his and removed it from his face – but rather than letting them go, his fingers squeezed hers tightly.

“No, you don’t,” she replied just as forcefully, finding her footing again as her heart resolved itself. “Because if you did, then you wouldn’t look so torn right now. Your hands wouldn’t be shaking. If you would truly be happy to have someone take me away from you, then you wouldn’t have been dying against enemies that you can usually beat in your sleep.”

 Itaru closed his eyes, as if he were wincing in pain.

 “Itaru, please. Don’t push me away.”

 A fresh stream of tears rolled down his face as he let out a rasping breath, shoulders shaking.

 “Did you know, the look on your face just now was so similar to when you told me you wanted to quit the troupe? You couldn’t look at me when I asked you to admit that you weren’t interested in theatre – that you didn’t care about performing with the others,” she said softly, using her thumb to wipe away the tears streaking his face.

 As a quiet sob tore its way out of Itaru’s throat, he leaned forward and buried his head against her shoulder, quickly soaking the material of her shirt. Letting her own tears fall, she lightly ran her fingers through his hair.

 “I… I want… to be with you… I want to feel worthy of you,” he gasped out in between sobs.

 “Itaru, I’m not some deity on a pedestal. I’m just a regular person, like you. You don’t have to be worthy of anything to be with me,” she replied.

 She felt him shake his head against her shoulder, his hair tickling against her chin.

 “If you still think that way, then… then let me tell you what I told you once before. Give yourself a little more time,” Izumi said, wrapping her arms around him, and nuzzling her face into his hair. “You owe it to yourself to keep trying. And… it’s not all on you. I’ll keep trying, too. I want to be a person that’s worthy of your efforts.”

 Then, after a long moment cradled in her arms, Itaru slowly lifted his head and finally allowed his red-rimmed eyes to meet hers, a small, lop-sided smile sneaking its way onto his lips.

 “Well… then I hope you’re ready to accept responsibility for your actions again.”

 “Of course!”

I had hoped to put this out on the actual first day of this week, but I kept rewriting it because I wasn’t satisfied with it. Even now, I’m not completely pleased with the finished product, but, I honestly don’t know how long it would take me to finish writing if I kept mulling over it! So, I decided to finally just settle with this version and post it and not look back!!

 In the end, I still got my central point across: which is that I wanted to write about how and why someone doesn’t feel jealous in a romantic relationship. And, so, this happened, haha. But, I didn’t want a sad ending, so I ended up on a hopeful note.

 Anyway, I APPARENTLY ONLY WRITE ITAIZU ANGST. I’m so sorry, Itaru – I’ll do you right next time!! No, really, HAHA. My entry for Day 2 (which will hopefully get written out in the next couple of days) is another ItaIzu and it’s NOT sad, I promise. In fact, it’s just PWP, LOLOL.

 If you liked my first entry, please do stick around for my other pieces for “A3! Rare Pairs Week 2020”! After my ItaIzu for Day 2, I’ll be moving on to other Izumi pairings. It’s a secret for now which pairings will all be covered in the end, but I’m here to spread the Izumi love!!

 Thank you for reading and please do leave a comment letting me know what you think! Any reblogs are always greatly appreciated and would really help me out!

 I hope to see you again! Bye for now!

 -Anmitsu

[sparrowwritings]

Final Fantasy 14 Writing Challenge Day Five: “Luck is believing you’re lucky.” - Tennessee Williams

Day Four -- Masterpost -- Day Six

This one has many OC cameos from my and my friends’ characters. Not all of them get named (and the PoV character can’t “see” more than silhouettes for Reasons) so I’m gonna put the list (and links to pictures) of OCs right here before the fic alongside links to the tumblrs of those who own them so you can go check them out.

Balthasar and Catrene Luvere (also known as Cat) as well as the briefly mentioned Fortunato DeFleur (Ser Not-appearing-in-this-fic) belong to @thedovahcat Roger has also belonged to her from the beginning as a reminder.

The pirate miqo’te lady is R’owahn and she belongs to @scoobydew4u

The polite midlander lady is Helena Bellveil and belongs to @chocolatebunnycake

The elezen lady who (rightly) wants nothing to do with this nonsense is Atalanta Sellecerre and belongs to corvusyn (this is to his twitter)

And last but certainly not least the miqo’te asshole who’s late to the party is A’ndru Lowrey and belongs to @clockworkpriest

Rennis and Bailey Gatlin as well as Lara are all my babies, tho.

Apologies if anyone sounds OOC!

One encounters many things on life’s journey. Particularly when one is not bound to the same rules that most people live by. Sometimes what one encounters is a particularly entertaining--if somewhat mundane--moment in time as one wanders through life.

Balthasar had been sitting quietly at a table to himself. The hood of his short cloak covered all except a few strands of his sandy hair and his staff was set on a wall next to him as he took in the atmosphere of the Drowning Wench. It was just past noon so the usual lunch crowds had died off, leaving some folk behind chit-chatting as the barmaids cleaned the now empty tables. He was people watching, which to an outside observer would seem impossible considering his blindness. That fact had yet to discourage him, though. 

The large doors to the tavern swung open and Balthasar turned his head to face the sound. Using a sense beyond sight, his lip curled slightly upwards as he observed (a passable if inaccurate word for what he was doing) the newest two midlander guests. One was tall, armor clad and bearing a shield on his back. His bearing was not nearly as confident as most others similarly outfitted. In fact, he seemed overly cautious of his surroundings though that did not prevent a minor stumble as he almost missed one of the steps leading into the main dining area. His companion was far smaller, though one would be mistaken in thinking she was the same height, for all she was able to keep the armor-clad one from falling on his face. Her outfit was a mix of leather and cloth typical of someone who uses magic in combat regularly. She was the more bold of the two, stepping smoothly around the people relocating themselves and leading her companion in something of a dance to attempt to follow suit. 

They barely managed to sit at one of the larger tables without injury, though it wasn’t this display that Balthasar was interested in. The color of ordinary objects escaped his “sight” and so didn’t matter to him nearly so much as the aether that he actually used to “see” his surroundings. These two individuals were like twin suns amongst the twinkling stars of the other patrons. Touched by Hydaelyn herself. The Warriors of Light.

Not for the first time, he was thankful for the cloth covering his eyes. He still couldn’t look at the two of them directly, but Balthasar could keep a metaphorical eye on them at least.

As he was busy contemplating how to potentially approach them, a steadily growing argument brought his attention to the people seated on the other side of the table that the Warriors of Light had sat at. It took a bit of concentration to focus on the speakers instead of the brightness at the edge of his vision, but he managed. Two lalafell--one significantly taller than the other, even while sitting--were talking with a young miqo’te woman who, from the sound of it, was on the verge of outright hissing at them. 

“Look I’m not sayin’ it ain’t possible, all I’m sayin’ is that ya can’t just force luck ta work for ya like that.” The shorter of the lalafell, a male from his tone, snorted. “Luck’s just somethin’ that happens, that’s all. No controllin’ nothin’.” 

“Oh come on,” The tail of the miqo’te woman swished behind her. “You literally can’t say that when you’ve fucking met the best example of being lucky. It’s the only explanation to why he hasn’t gotten killed yet.”

“Lowrey don’t count, Cat. Especially cuz if that’s the case then it’d get cancelled out by Fortun’s lack of it.”

“It does seem weird that he’d start a business when he’s got the worst every day luck I’ve ever seen in my life…” The taller lalafell, female in tone, observed. It seemed to be mostly for her own sake then to forward any conversation. 

“Then how do you explain it, Ren?” The miqo’te woman apparently named Cat demanded. 

“I don’t know but it sure as shit ain’t somethin’ as stupid as ‘luck is believin’ yer lucky.’ He’s fed ya more bullshit an’ ya say ya don’t follow anythin’ he says but CLEARLY yer doin’ it.” Ren, the shorter lalafell jabbed a finger into the table in front of him to emphasize his point. 

“I dunno, it’s sound logic t’me.” Another patron spoke up. All eyes at the table (including those of the Warriors of Light) turned towards the speaker. She was another miqo’te woman, but compared to Cat her outfit spoke more of pirate than former street urchin. Not that there was any shortage of either in Limsa Lominsa. “Can’t tell you how many times someone I know ought’ve died and claimed to live thanks to a charm they already thought was lucky. If that’s not luck because of believing in luck, I dunno what is.”

Ren let out a frustrated groan. “Yeah but what about all th’ other times that ain’t life-’r-death when th’ charm didn’t work? Like shit breakin’ as they sat or losin’ a job or th’ like? Ya wanna call that havin’ luck cuz ya believe yer lucky?”

“My apologies for intruding, but I must concur with the gentleman here.” While the discussion had been happening, another midlander woman had made her way from her table to where the others were talking. She gave a short, polite nod at the sudden attention before continuing to speak. “Luck cannot be objectively observed, and so there is no reason to conclude that one can control the appearance of it merely by belief.”

“THANK you.” The relief in Ren’s voice was obvious.

“As such, it’s difficult to say that luck even does exist.” The woman pushed at the ridge of her nose which Balthasar took to mean she was pushing a pair of spectacles back into place. 

“Luck definitely exists, ma’am.” The pirate miqo’te woman cut in.

“I have certainly observed instances where the confluence of events have led to ultimately positive outcomes. I also do not deny that some people seem to attract more positive outcomes with seemingly no work put into the effort. Objectively speaking, however, it’s impossible to prove such a thing as luck exists. Preparedness for any eventuality is far more reliable.”

“Well duh it’s more reliable but that’s not the fucking point!” Cat stood up from her seat to point at the woman. 

More people seemed to be drawn into the conversation like water down a drain, whether or not they were interested in also participating. The door opened again and Balthasar watched as an elezen woman in what appeared to be dancer’s gear strode into the Drowning Wench. She paused, cocked her head and seemed to listen for a few seconds before turning and avoiding the whole discussion by walking along the edge of the crowd towards the desk where the guild leves were issued. Within moments she’d received her assignment and left the building without a second glance behind her. No one else appeared to have noticed.

When he turned his attention back to the conversation, more folk were actively adding their voices to the chaos. The only ones who didn’t seem to be participating were the Warriors of Light. This didn’t last, as the lalafell woman from the start of it all turned towards them like a ship turns for a lighthouse in the dark. “You two’ve been pretty quiet this whole time.” She made a gesture at her companions, who had both gotten up though the lalafell man stood on his chair to attempt to be of the same eye level as everyone else. “Anything you wanna add about luck?”

Balthasar steeled himself to get a more direct look towards the brightness of the twin aethers. He “looked” just in time for the silhouettes of the two to look at each other and shrug. The female Warrior of Light said, “I dunno, I’ve always seen luck ebb and flow like the tides. One minute you’re celebrating a victory over a tough foe, the next a natural disaster happens.”

The male Warrior of Light said, “I mean, sure I’ve made it through a ton of things by a hair, but I’ve never felt lucky while doing it. Does that count?”

Before she could reply, the door opened once more, though this time with a bang. Balthasar, quietly relieved to have something else to focus on, took in the appearance of an older miqo’te man at the same time as the crowd did. He wore nearly all leather, with fur coming out of the collar of his jacket. The man was all swagger as he raised his arms to each side and declared, “Guess who’s the luckiest motherfucker on the planet?” 

Dead silence greeted him. 

The spell was broken when Cat slammed her hand against the table and growled, “You asshole! The one time you could’ve been fucking useful!” After that, more chaos than even the previous discussion had garnered ensued. 

Balthasar smiled and continued sitting in his perch. He’d keep observing until the entertainment died down or the Warriors of Light had finally made their exit. Mundane though this scene was, it was yet another affirmation that life would always keep him guessing in spite of his vast amounts of time spent living.

How quaint.