Chapter Text
He is nervous.
He stands in front of the door, fist held out about to knock it.
This conversation had been coming for a while now, he knows it. He hates that he’s the one to initiate it, but there is no choice in the matter.
He needs to be a voice of reason.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in,” the other says, voice calm and warm. The other is not expecting this, and he walks through the door anyway. The other smiles, yet he does not. This conversation will not be pretty, no matter how much the other wants to lace it with distractions and soft words.
And before he can hesitate he lets the chains binding his lips free.
“This needs to stop.”
The other is…conflicted, confused. The other hasn’t a clue of what he is talking about. “What do you mean?”
He waves around. “This, all of this. Us. We cannot be here anymore, we do not belong.”
And the other physically recoils from those words. “What do you mean, of course we belong—“
“No. You and I know the truth, and so does he, as much as he wants to deny it.”
The other sighs. “You are being cruel—“
“I am being anything but cruel!” He shouts. The anger, despair, and helplessness that has been ingrained into his very being explodes now. He is a soldier in battle, his weapon coming in the form of sharp words and a quick mind. He cuts through the fantasy that they are living in, and he drags them down to a cruel reality.
He does it all with one sentence.
“We. are. dead .”
And the other seems to go through all five stages of grief at once, shown only through the other’s facial expressions. It goes from the shock of hearing the fact said out loud, to an eventual look of acceptance. And though it doesn’t make the other’s emotions less sad, it is a step in the right direction. It is progress, and it feels so odd.
“Not yet.”
And though it is progress, it is not a lot.
“When will it be ‘yet?!’” he snarls. “He is getting weaker and weaker each month. I wouldn’t be surprised if the magic killed him. Just like—“
“You’re going to stop there.”
And he does. He forgot himself in the swirling hurricane of vexation that fogs his mind. That was more than a low blow, it was a killing shot. And his goal in this war was not to slaughter, but to wound enough to get the other to surrender.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But you can’t say that the possibility isn’t there.”
The other stays silent, loss for words and thoughts alike. And so he continues.
“He is stressed out of his mind. I know you see the way he looks at us, like we’re alive, but we’re not. He needs to learn to live without us.”
“This takes time, you have to understand that—“
“We have given him time, and I know it doesn’t hurt any less, but he needs the opportunity to move on.”
The other sighs, and for a moment he thinks he has won. He thinks he finally has gotten through to the other, and that everything will be okay. That the boy will be saved from meeting the same fate she had.
But then the other speaks.
“Give him a little more time, please. I am begging you.”
And…he realizes that no matter what he says, the other will not do anything. He wants to cling onto this false life so badly that he doesn’t see reason. He wants to pretend just as much as the boy does.
And so he relents. “…Fine.”
The other smiles, thinking he has exited this battle victorious. “Thank you.”
He stomps out with an irritated exhale, slamming the door as hard as he can.
If nobody was going to do anything, he’d have to do it himself.
~~~
Tommy was supposed to bake the cupcakes today. He had a large order and a deadline to do it.
But…he could take a break, couldn’t he?
He didn’t particularly feel like baking today, and the deadline wasn’t too close…
He would not be baking today, he decided.
Tommy walked down the stairs, prepared to make breakfast, when he saw his father by the windowsill, talking to a bird.
He paused, slowly walking beside him. It was a crow, softly cawing at Phil who was happily responding with delicate chirps. Tommy raised an eyebrow and nudged his arm.
“Why are you speaking to the bird?” He asked.
Phil shrugs. “It said hi.”
Tommy furrows his eyebrows. “Wait—you can understand birds?!”
And yeah, that’s probably a dumb question. He literally just saw the guy chirp back at the bird, but he was curious anyway.
“Yeah, it’s a part of my abilities,” he said. Tommy’s eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn’t a clue.
Phil sighs. “Have I ever told you about how your mother and I met?”
Tommy shakes his head, and Phil beams, ready to tell the tale.
Phil was quite the traveler.
He didn’t like to stay in one place, and for the past…3 or so years, he’d been driving around in his old RV. Despite the thing being slightly worn down by the elements, it was in relatively good condition, though whether that was natural or due to the fact that it had been enchanted was up for debate.
He’d mainly visited witch towns and villages, though it was quite interesting to see how normal people had lived their lives. Phil had lived in a town filled with witches himself, and though he was not shielded from the life of non-witches, he was not directly exposed either.
If he was being completely honest, Phil thought traveling was fun, but…he longed for something more stable. Permanent, for lack of a better word. He wanted to live somewhere lively, yet calm. He wanted to stay in a nice home and roam the bustling streets of other witches. He wanted to feel his energy match, and finally have a place to call home.
Phil wanted to fly.
And so, Phil parked his RV and began to wander the streets of this new village.
It was a large village, but not big enough to be called a town. It was filled with people, and he stumbled just trying to navigate it all. A cozy warmth settled in his chest, and he beamed at the atmosphere alone.
He wanted to get something to eat, first off. This journey was a particularly long one, and his stomach was rumbling with emptiness. He stumbled upon a small cafe, and he walked in happily.
He looked around, the place bright, colorful, and fun. Despite the very welcoming atmosphere, there was barely anyone there, and Phil felt content as he waited for his order. Soon the lady called him up, and he sat down with his treats.
“Cake and golden apple cider, huh?” A curious voice asked.
He looked up to see a woman smiling gently, though her eyes were filled with much more than simple curiosity. The strands of her hair were wavy and long, the color as black as a midnight sky. Her eyes were brown, and the energy of her magic was overwhelming.
“Yeah, why?”
She shrugged and sat down in the seat in front of him. “Nothing, I just wanted to start a conversation.” She looked directly at his eyes, as if she would be able to figure out his whole life’s story just from one glance. “You don’t see many newcomers around here. So, what made you move?”
Phil laughs. “Oh, no—I’m not moving. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with the town,” she asks genuinely.
Phil shrugs. “I…don’t know. I haven’t seen that much of it to make a decision,” he admits.
She smiles, teeth showing. “Well, you’re in luck. I’d be happy to show you a tour.”
Phil’s eyes widened. “No, you really don’t have to, it’s fine—“
“No, I insist. I know everyone and everything in this town, you’ll love it,” she promises.
Phil doesn’t think she’s lying.
He learns that her name is Kristin.
And she apparently wasn’t joking when she said she knew everybody. People waved and had short conversations with her as they walked throughout the village. She showed Phil different buildings and shops, talking about both the history and the people that inhabited them.
It was…nice.
Phil couldn’t believe that such a small area had so much…life. That was clear in Kristin’s eyes whenever she spoke about an area or other, a shine in her eyes that held so much love for the town. Her entire demeanor had shown that this was her home.
…Phil wanted it to be his too.
They sat in a park, laughing at a joke or story, sun shining. The branches shielded them from too much light, the shade cool compared to the heat beating down upon them.
And Kristin stays quiet for a moment before speaking. “I don’t know why you keep your wings hidden.”
He freezes. “How did you…?”
“Your energy is radiating it. It’s difficult to hide powerful magical energy.”
Phil realizes exactly what she's saying. “You’re a Reaper,” he notes.
She nods. “Took you a while to realize,” she snorts. Phil smiles in embarrassment.
A crow lands on Phil’s shoulder, and it caws to him.
“Hello,” it says.
Phil laughs. “ Hi,” he chirps back.
Kristin smiles. “Do you know that bird, or is it just particularly fond of you?”
Phil shrugs. “Just some random crow.”
The crow squawks.
“Sorry, mate.”
The two walk down the paths of the park, talking to a crow.
Tommy knows what Reapers are.
There are particularly powerful abilities in the witch community. If they’re common enough, they get a name. People who can control fire are blazeborns, people who control water are merlings, people who can control the skies (like Phil) are called Elytrians.
And people who can control death are Reapers.
Reapers can see a person's energy. They… control it, and can kill someone within an instant. Of course, they can’t increase it to make people live, they have their limits.
Strong magic like that comes with a price. You cannot manipulate the forces of life and death without balance. And although they can kill within the blink of an eye, it will drain them heavily.
Even a Reaper cannot kill thousands in an instant.
Phil laughs as the crow flutters away from the window, and goes back to face Tommy. “So, what’re you doing today?”
Tommy shrugs. “‘Dunno. I don’t have anything planned.”
Phil smiles. “Wanna watch a movie? Wil’s been dying to watch this one.”
Tommy smiles and nods. “Sure, let’s see whatever bullshit Wilbur chose.”
Phil calls Wilbur who slowly descends down the stairs. The brunette excitedly heads to the TV after hearing that they’re going to watch a movie.
“I’ve been wanting to watch La La Land for soooo long,” he says as he takes the remote. Phil smiles and goes upstairs to get Technoblade. Tommy rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics and sits down beside him, staring at the TV screen. Phil comes back downstairs.
“Looks like Technoblade won’t be joining us.”
Wilbur whines, yet plays the movie anyway. Tommy scoffs, and the couch sinks deeper as Phil sits next to the blonde.
They all stay quiet as the movie begins.