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Chapter Text

Phil really didn't know what to do. On one hand he could leave Wilbur and get someone else to take care of him but on the other hand he could take him with him on his adventures instead. It's not like he would remember all the gore, right? So with that Phil, The Angel of Death decided to take his very small child with him to war.

Phil was quick in packing their things. Grabbing a baby carrier that could switch between his front and on his back, would be the best option if he wanted to fight he could keep Wilbur under his cloak, it would also make sure he wouldn't get blood on him. He also grabbed a fuck ton of baby food and toys for Wilbur. As well as medicine in case he got ill and things for when his wings would grow in. He packed his own things in another bag, strapped a sleeping Wilbur, swaddled in a nest of blankets to keep him warm as they would be flying in cold weather for a while. With all his things he set off, Wilbur still fast asleep against his chest, a warm and comfortable weight.

Wilbur did not like the sun. He did not like it when he was woken up to be fed and he especially didn't enjoy the sun gazing down at them, he was crying and whining. Phil could not think what to do, he swapped the way Wilbur was so he was staring out instead of at his dad's chest. He made a stop to take out a few toys to entertain Will which seemed to work well. Wilbur grabbed the rattle in Phils hand and shook it. He squealed when it made a sound giggling as he shook it more.
"Dada sound" he said amazed at the sound
"Yeah it makes a cool sound huh?" He smiled softly collecting their things and getting ready for the next stop at a village to eat and then go off. He took off into the air making Wilbur squeal and laugh in delight. That sure was Phil's son. Unlucky for Phil, Wilbur enjoyed the sound of the rattle a lot, going on a spree of shaking then stopping to laugh then shaking again and repeating it, Phil quickly got sick of the rattle and started to regret bringing Wil until he laughed and squealed again. Phil briefly looked down at his son, his brown curls and smiled, his hair was flopping as they flew to a village. This was a good decision.

This was a terrible decision, Phil realised as he quickly adjusted Wilbur to sit on his back comfortably. Fucking mobs. Phil was quick in his panic to keep Wilbur safe, who was quite happy and just giggling at the fucking rattle and Phil was still suffering with hearing every 10 fucking seconds, he quickly and easily cut through the creeper turning it to smoke and cut through the skeleton so it faced the same fate as the creeper. He heard a hiss and within seconds he was in the air with Wilbur safe.
Then Wilbur started crying.
"Fuck, fuck did you get hurt, bub?" He asked
"Sound!" He cried
"Oh fuck me," he said realising the reason his son was crying was because he dropped his fucking rattle. Phil sighed and dove down to where they had been, seeing the bright blue rattle right next to a creeper.

Fuck.

Wilbur only cried harder without his rattle alerting the attention of the creeper, who attempted to walk closer to Phil not realising Phil was too far away for it to do anything. Phil took a deep breath and slid a hand down his face contemplating if he should get the rattle or just try to get Wilbur asleep. When Wilbur only started crying hard he made the decision to get the rattle then get Wilbur asleep for the rest of the journey. Unable to handle the stupid rattle anymore.

Phil slowed and softly and quickly stabbed the creeper through its dumb skull. He walked over to the rattle and handed it to his son.
"Happy?" He asked
Wilbur shook the rattle and cried out with laughter in response.
"Great," he said and slid a hand down his face. He moved Wilbur so he was now facing him and took away his rattle, before the boy could start to cry he put a dummy in his mouth, easily soothing Wilbur, who started to realise his dad was very warm and it would be very easy to just sleep.

Phil thanked the gods that he didn't have to listen to that horrible rattle for the rest of the journey. He took off again, prepared to meet Technoblade at this new snow place. He was slower now, making sure that Wilbur was safe and their belongings, praying to the gods the rattle didn't fall again and he would have to search the ocean to find it, he really just needed to get to Techno so they could set up camp and go from there.

"Techno!" He yelled to his old friend
"Philza," he replied meeting him half way,
"How have you been?" Phil asked
"Fine, and you? Last I heard you had a child?" He said
"My son, Wilbur, yes," he said and showed his friend his sleeping son
"Heh? Why is he here?" He asked
"I couldn't exactly leave him," he answered
"Why not?" He said
"He's a fucking kid, mate" he said "He's My son i can't just up and leave him!" He exclaimed
"Philza we are going to be fighting people, a child has no place in war!" He said
"Mate, I can protect him! He'll be fine!" He said
"You can't-
Their argument was broken up by a small whine
"Oh, hey, bub, have a nice nap did you?" He asked, taking him out the carrier and holding him in his arms, "How about you say hello to your godfather?" He said showing him to Techno
"HEH?"

Chapter Text

Technoblade, also known as The Blood God, was unsure if having a baby at war with him and Phil, he understood that Phil cared for him and couldn't leave him alone, but was having a toddler a good idea. At first, Techno was strong with his opinions of Wilbur, hating the child being there. But as time went on Techno cared for him more than anyone, but Phil, would know.

Techno was alone with him when he started to cry. Little hiccups at the dead of night and the so called Blood God had no idea what to do. Technoblade could win wars, he could fight an entire army and kill until the sun rose, however he could not take care of a crying child. Much less Phil's crying son.

Techno quickly walked over to the cot that has been placed at the campsite where Phil and Techno would stay, the rest of their army would be in front of the two, he looked over at the distressed face of a toddler, eyes scrunching together, his arms were curled into his body and his small wings were puffing up, showing his sadness. Techno has no idea what to do but knew he needed Wilbur to be quiet, so he picked him up.

Wilbur did not like that.

Wilbur cried more when he was in the arms of a complete stranger, causing Techno to panic more and shift into his piglin form. Wilbur was silent for a moment looking up at the pig.

"Shhhh?" Techno said awkwardly, trying to attempt to do what he'd seen Phil do when Wilbur was crying like this.

Wilbur only stared at his face. Eyes showed small confusion but a deep interest as well.

"I have no idea what you want from me, child," he deadpanned
Wilbur giggled in reply arms lifting in joy at the other. Techno looked at the small child that reminded him so much of Phil in awe.

This was the first time a young child has seen his piglin form and didn't start crying harder. It reminded him of when he first met Phil. Phil has been so kind to him, ignoring the blood that stained his clothes because the blood on Technos hands match Phils to some extent, only Phils was more, being an immortal being.

There was Phil and there was Wilbur. Wilbur had brow curls sliding down his face and tan wings, matching those of a baby nightingale. Phil has sunlight sliding down his hair, compared to the dark night of his wings, a gift from his wife. Wilbur looked nothing like Phil but he was just like him in the ways he only thought Techno was a friend. Techno was Wilburs godfather, and the baby recognised that as a sign of safety, even at this small age he knew he was safe in the warm arms of Techno.

Wilbur looking tiredly up at his godfather, the pig was looking back down at him with awe. Something so small and unknowing could make him fell as if he wasn't an outsider. For so long, he faced fear and yells of hatred for looking as he did, but when he was in his more human form, he got nothing but respect. Right now he was getting laughs from a baby, that was more comforting to him than the knowledge that he could kill anyone who dared to scream hate at him.

The Blood God was filled with the urge to protect. To protect the small bird from the people that want him of Phil dead. He needed to protect this small being. Wilbur was his godson and he would remember that until the day he died. When he died he would make sure Wilbur was okay and safe.

"Little Boar," Techno said as soft as he could

Wilbur looked up at him with big eyes, he didn't know what Techno was saying but he liked the noise!

Techno slowly, very slowly moved over to where he has been sitting, a rocking chair that has been built by the others to help with the baby. He was slow in his movements, his arms hardly moving with Wilbur content in them. He sat down, stiff and unmoving as he held something so small and fragile in his massive arms that weren't made to do this. They were made to cut down enemies in one swing, not hold a child. What was he doing?

Wilbur made a noise and his head snapped down to the small child, said child was moving so his head was tucked into Technos warm chest, burying himself in the warmth of the hybrid. Techno let out a sigh and calmed at the sight, thankful he hadn't hurt the little boar.

Techno slowly started rocking the chair, letting the two be swayed in the motions, Wilbur relaxed more in his grip, eyes fluttering shut with a content face and he snuggled into his godfathers warm body. Techno looked at the sleeping baby, he resting.

It was so small, and all of Technos mind was telling him to protect the small being. He needed to protect this child the same way he protected Phil. He would make sure Wilbur knew how to fight and be able to defend himself, and if Wilbur couldn't, he would tear the world apart so he could. Wilbur was his godson and his to protect.

Techno didn't realise the smile that has come onto his face as he looked down at Wilbur, he didn't notice when his eyes started to feel heavy with sleep and he still didn't notice when his eyes shut, sleep over taking the two in its comfortable waves, letting the two float.

Phil didn't know what he expected when he left Techno with Wilbur. He needed to go help with hunting and knew Techno needed to get used to having Wilbur around. When he walked into the small house the two were staying in, he looked to the cot, expecting to see his son's sleeping body, but was met with nothing but an empty cot, only his son's sheep toy being left in. His eyes quickly snapped towards when Techno has been, only to see his long friend fast asleep, snoring with Wilbur in his arms. Wilbur seemed to be deep in sleep.

Phil smiled, this was the first time he has seen Techno so relaxed since this war started. Techno, who was so against Wilbur being there, cuddled up with him, both out like a light. Phil laughed quietly at the two. He was glad though, Wilbur meant everything to him and Techno was his closest friend. Them getting along meant everything to him and he wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself but when Technoblade acted like he hated Wilbur at first, it hurt Phil a lot. Now that hurt has vanished. He was confident in their ability to get along.

Phil carefully set his things down, putting his sword away and shedding his armour. He smiled at the two before going to lay on his bed, he was tired. If the other two got to have a nap he would as well. They were safe for now, tomorrow they would be fighting again and Phil would listen to his son giggle and throw his rattle at people and laugh even more when it hit them on the head. He loved his son.

Technoblade woke to see Phil was back, at the furnace making something to eat.
"Phil," he stated,"when did you get back?" He questioned, wondering how long he and Wilbur has been sleeping for.

"A few hours ago, Wil should be waking up soon for a bottle, you can feed him if you want," he smiled, looking at his old friend
"Phillllll," Techni droned
"What? You look like you're having so much fun cuddled up to him, mate," he teased

Before Techno could deny anything Phil said Wilbur started to wake up, it was much calmer than before, no crying until the baby bird realised he was hungry. Phil passed a warm bottle of milk over to Techno before carrying on to make food for the two adults.

Techno internally panicked, he had no idea how to do this, he'd only ever watched Phil do it. He could only pray he would do it correctly. He held the bottle to Wilburs lips and let the child latch on and start to drink. Tilting the bottle so he could drink.

To most The Blood God would look perfectly calm but to Phil, who'd known him for centuries, he was panicking, it made Phil laugh slightly, knowing that people who only knew The Blood God would not expect to see the feared warrior, panicking over if he was feeding a baby right.

Techno calmed down slowly as he realised he was doing it right, he sat calmly and more relaxed, knowing the little boar would be safe in his arms.

Chapter Text

Wilbur was the most precious thing to Phil and Techno in this war. Everyone knew it, especially the enemy, it's why Wilbur was never meant to be unattended. However as Wilbur grew and turned 5, Phil and Techno couldn't bring him on the field safely. He was special to the two.

When he was on the field, as a baby, he would throw his toys from the sky, it was amusing to see a baby toy fall from the sky and sometimes right on the head of an enemy soldier, it would confuse whoever it landed on and give who was fighting them a time to make a killing blow, or escape. Despite being a toddler, Wilbur could be a great help to them in fighting, especially since the child found it funny when it hit people on the head. Hearts would be warmed when they heard the child giggles but soon freeze up when deathly dark wings would show themselves. A child's giggle never sounded more threatening.

Now Wilbur was left with the nurses, they were meant to keep a close eye on him, but the boy escaped after seeing something shiny in the snow. It was silver, with something green on it, Wilbur knew his dad and uncle tech wore a lot of stuff like it, jewelry he thinks it is called. His dad has earrings and a ring, though the ring was technically a necklace since it was wrapped around his dad's neck with a string of leather. He likes the ring, he didn't know why, but it made him happy to play with it whenever his dad picked him up, he felt as if someone else was there, holding them together. The shiny thing was probably his dads or techs! With that the five year old snuck out from under the nurses gaze and into the snow.

Wilbur walked over and crouched to pick it up examining it, wondering if he's ever seen his godfather or dad with it. It was pretty, silver with a beautiful emerald gem sitting in the middle, the winter sunlight made it glow a bright green making Wilbur smile.

The gem went dull and the silver stopped shining when a shadow appeared making the white snow go grey. Wilbur looked up carefully to see a man.

This man was someone Wilbur had never seen before, the only familiar thing was his clothes, a dull grey colour that made Wilbur think of the clouds whenever rain fell instead of snow. Wilburs eyes widen in realisation, he was one of the bad people Tech told him about!

"So this is Philzas fucking kid, I would expect more," he spat

Wilbur backed up but before he could turn and run the man grabbed his arm pulling him away and picking him up in his arms, covering his mouth as a scream broke out. Wilbur struggled in his grip, legs kicking out and arms spinning, he bit the man's hand and screamed more as it went away, he was in danger and he wanted his dad. He wanted Tech to come save him and hold him in his warm arms, he didn't want this stranger practically strangling his body in a tight, icy cold grip. Making moving nearly impossible.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" He snapped, grabbing something before Wilbur felt the stranger grab his head and pinch his nose forcing Wilbur to breath through his mouth, his screaming went silent when a potion was forced down his throat, vile and bitter. Only seconds later did Wilbur go limp in the strangers arms.

The Blood God was slitting the throat of a man when he heard distant screams. It sounds like those of a child and it made Technoblade burn. The screams were louder than the roar of fighting, blades scraping on matching blades, people screaming out in pain and people falling around him. Technoblade could only pray for the others the child screaming wasn't Wilbur.

A drum rang out across the field as the screaming suddenly stopped. Technoblade knew what that drum was. In the case that Wilbur could go missing, they told their soldiers to bang the drum once, as loud as they could. Technoblade stopped to look back from where he had come. No-one dared to cross his path after getting a glimpse of his eyes. Red eyes that held nothing but rage and a want for blood. He noticed Philza from the corner of his eye stop in the air, Philza looked towards him and nodded.

The Angel of Death shot into the sky like an arrow, clouds weren't a problem on the clear day, unlucky for whoever took his son. He looked like a hawk searching for his prey. His eyes locked with a grey clashing against the green and brown of the forest and he shot down towards The Blood God.

He landed with a bang, sword plunging into the snow and forcing those who took his son down, they didn't get back up. He turned to Technoblade.
"The forest, they have Wilbur in the forest, you know what to do, old friend," he said before using his wings, that have only become more dark with every moment his son was taken from him, to shot himself into the sky, faster than time itself.

The Blood God roared, a dark glint in his eyes and he easily swiped through an army of soldiers that dared to try and come for him. He sprinted towards the forest, sword slicing necks and plunging into peoples backs and stomach's, his run was never stopped by anyone, their defence was useless to The Blood God, effortlessly breaking down all the walls they fought to make to stop him.

The Angel of Death was faster than anything in his speed. Arrows shooting down to unsuspecting soldiers, helping his friend to destroy those who block their path to his son. In his mind he knew the Goddess of Death wouldn't give an ounce of mercy to those that fell, being a part of those who took her own son. He would gift them to her and she would make death worse than anything he could.

The Blood God and The Angel of Death approached the man. From the sky's and from the ground, leading him to be stuck between the two, circling him like prey. In this moment he realised his mistake. He gulped, holding onto Wilbur tighter.

"I suggested you let my son down," Philza said, voice dark, hinted with death
"You can't kill me without hurti-

He didn't even get to finish before an axe was in his head, splitting his skull.

Technoblade grabbed the limp body, taking Wilbur out from his grasp, holding his god son gently.

Phil and Techno relaxed once Wilbur was safe, Phil hurriedly going over to Techno, dropping his sword and taking his son from his friend. Phil slid to the floor, holding Wilbur tightly to his chest, not wanting to let him go for a second. Phil's head turned to press his face into his son's curls, holding him closer and closer, just needing the warmth and weight of him in his arms. His son was back in his arms and he felt home. He heard Techno fall to the floor with him, hand going towards Wilburs hair, feeling the soft curls wrap around to remind him he was home and safe.

It took a while for the family to get up, Wilbur still out in Phils grasp and Techno next to him closely, holding Phils sword and his own axe. Daring people to touch them as they walked back to the camp, the war would carry on but for now the family would be home and safe.

Many of their enemies would fall that day. From the feared Blood God and Angel of Death or from others. Many would die from a strange plague that only seemed to get the ones who stole the son of death.

And those who died. If they supported Death's husband they would be rewarded, if they were a part of those who stole for revenge, they would wish they were back at war. For the villain who did take Wilbur, they would face the worst punishment Death has given in centuries and centuries.

No-one thought to take Wilbur again after the massacre.

Phil was more than happy to have Wilbur back and safe in his arms. He and Techno laid him between them in front of the fireplace. Phil was clutching his sleeping son's hands in his own, Technos hand was in Wilburs hair, stroking it, both reminding themselves that Wilbur was home and safe with them. They knew deep down, no-one would dare mess with him again after this. They didn't speak, only looked down at his sleeping body, his arms were bruised, as was his stomach.

Wilburs eyes fluttered and then his mouth opened into a heartbreaking scream. Phil held his son's face, hashing him and telling him he was safe. He bought Wilbur into his arms when the five year old screaming stopped and tears came in its replacement.

Wilbur has a tight grip onto his dad's shirt, face buried into his chest as he cried, he was so scared and so happy it was over. His dad and uncle Tech saved him and he was okay. He was okay and he was safe in his father's arms. One of his arms fell and reached out, searching for the much bigger hand of his godfather, he found it and clutched into the finger holding it and bringing it closer to him, his family was here and he was safe. He was safe.

It took Wilbur a long time to recover. Phil and Techno as well, though they wouldn't admit they did it for Wilbur and themselves. They were there for each other and that was enough.

Chapter Text

The war ended when Wilbur turned eight. After his dad and godfather took control over the area. Forming the Arctic Empire. The Arctic Empire was Wilburs home, he was happy there and enjoyed it, it was all he ever knew. He'd grown up surrounded by white snow, tinted with pink, he was there as snow was replaced with bodies and reaked of death. He knew it was war and he knew and understood what it meant to them. He was content in the Empire with his dad and Techno. They always has time for him and it made him so happy. He loved seeing his dad laugh and getting to read with Techno was fun! Techno taught him all about the world and places in them! Techno told many stories to Wilbur, many of them would be deemed inappropriate for his age, as Techno included as much blood and gore as he could, but Wilbur found nothing strange in them; he loved it and it made him happy to hear them.

Techno loved to tell Wilbur these stories, he wouldn't admit it but watching the way his eyes lit up and wings would flap and give a slight breeze was sweet. He knew Phil felt the same, he could see the way he looked at Wilbur with such adoration for something so young, he hadn't seen that face on Phil since his wife left.

However, as Wilbur got older, he desperately wanted to learn how to fly, unlike Phil, Wilburs wings grew in when he was a baby, instead of them being gifted as a fucking marriage proposal, which is how Phil got his. The Goddess of Death didn't know how to communicate with humans well.

While Phils were simply a formation of the void, Wilburs was like those of a nightingale, the song bird being tan. Wilburs wings were like a medal, a medal Wilbur has since a child and he wouldn't give for anything. His wings were something of pride and no-one would be able to take that away from him. They hid gold dotted around like a dragons hidden hoard, when they hit the sun they shined like as bright as the sun, the shimmers seemed to glow more when he was singing as if his song affected how his wings looked. Both his parental figures would admit his wings look dull when the boy is upset. They seemed to only become darker when he was angry, like the midnight sky seeping into the pure daylight.

So Phil and Techno decided Wilbur could start to learn how to fly on his 10th birthday. The process would take a long time and they both knew Wilbur would get stressed and cry and get frustrated but they would both be there for him, making sure he was okay and not hurt. They would protect him. He was their world, they would do anything to make him happy.

As Wilbur grew and got older he found a love for singing, it grew as he did and joined him hand in hand as they went together. If Wilbur was someone you could always bet he was singing a song, humming a tune or writing down lyrics. Phil and Techno enjoyed his songs, it made them happy that, unlike them, he has found something peaceful to enjoy. Singing would be heard from all around the castle as Wilbur grew up, the staff would enjoy the little tunes the Prince made up on the spot and smile as he would dance around the halls singing as he went. It made the place more cheerful.

When Wilbur turned 10 his father allowed him to start flying lessons with him. And Wilbur has never been so happy before. His wings started to flap in excitement and he'd jump up and down fanning his hands and his dad told him. Both of his caretakers warned him it would take a long time for Wilbur to fully know how to fly but this would be a start for him.

Wilbur had never been so excited before in his life, he was going to learn how to fly! He would be able to fly with his father, soar across blue sky's and dive down in deep seas! It was a dream come true and on his birthday as well! He was so happy he couldn't wait.

Phil smiled softly at his son as he stood before him, wings already flappy excitedly as the thought of flying. Phil noticed Techno watching from the corner of his eye, smiling slightly as the blood God seemed to be standing guard as protection for his godson and long time friend.

"First things first, Will, you need to calm down," he chuckled. "I understand you're excited but I need you to have control over your wings, understand?" He asked
Wilbur nodded and the taj wings came to a stop, well nearly, sometimes you would see then twitch or flap slightly. Phil smiled.

Phil enjoyed teaching Wilbur how to fly over the years he was a fast learner and it only took him two to be able to fully fly. Everyone in the empire knew Wilbur could fly at that point. The tan wings would be seen by everyone like droplets of bronze shining around, typically accompanied with a song. Fitting for the young boys nightingale wings.

His wings were strong like his father's they were fluffy as well and needed preening more often than Phils did but Techno and Phil were more than happy to help.

Preening was something just for them three. Phil or Wilbur would be able to lay in a pile of pillows and blankets with the other two softly dragging their fingers through their wings, adjusting and fixing the feathers. At the end of these sessions, there would either be a small pile of black feathers or a much bigger pile of tan ones. Preening was something special for the three. As it was one of the easiest ways to get Wilbur to fall asleep and if Phil was stressed to calm him down, allowing the two to indulge in their hybrid instincts more. It was pure peace for the three.

In return Phil or Wilbur would do Technos hair, mostly playing with in in Wilburs case, but also force the piglin to have a shower and then brush out his hair, then, typically, plait it, always placing golden beads in the strands of hair and a golden band at the end. Additionally two smaller braids would be in the braid as well, one with a red, green and black bead and another with a yellow and brown one with a music note.

It was during one of these sessions when Wilbur was the one laying down, when Wilburs mother was bought up.

"Dad?" Wilbur asked sleepily eyes fluttering slowly
"Yes?" He asked carefully dragging his hands through his feathers
"Who is my mum?" He asked

Phil and Techno frozen in what they were doing, making a bird like whine come from Wilbur at that, making the two hurry to carry on, trying to figure out what the tell the 12 year old.

"Your mother, her name was Kristen. She has other names, like me and Techno but she was amazing," Phil said softly
"Tell me more," he asked
"Kristen liked the gift me things, one day she decided I needed wings and an army of crows to follow me around. So she gave just that to me. I remember waking up with nothing but a letter and a ring. That was how she proposed to me. I later came back to her with a ring as well, wanting her to have one as well. She was wonderful," Phil said sadly thinking of his wife always made him sad, as he couldn't see her until his own death, which still has many years to arrive.

"She was good," Techno said helping his friend "she loved you," he added

"She loved you more than anything it broke her heart that she wasn't able to spend more time with you but she has to go," he said

"Did- did mum die?" He asked

"No," Phil said softly, taking a breath before looking at his son, his entire world, "Wilbur, your mother is the Goddess of Death," he said

"What" he said before moving looking over at his father

"She's a god. She's death. She can't give life very easily, so when you came along she has to leave only a few weeks later," he explained "it broke her heart to leave us but she has no choice, not only that but after she was never able to from as a person again, we will never see her until we die," he explained

"Oh," he said "so I'm half god?" He asked

"Yes," he said

"Okay," Wilbur said before laying back down and letting his godfather and dad settle him into a peaceful slumber.

If he dreamed of a tall woman with long black hair and a ring shining brighter than anything, that was for him to know, and also his mother.

Chapter Text

When Wilbur reached the age of where he would be classed as an adult for humans, he was allowed to go off on his own. He did for a while.

His travels took him far a wide as he walked places he'd been before only a few years ago, places where he'd seen cities before now left in ruins and places he remembered his dad talking about in such adoration has been whipped off the map replaced by nature as it took back what was once there.

Wilbur sang songs as he travelled, lyrics pooling out of his mind at seeing places and learning about them, creating a melody to remember the places he went, deep down knowing they would no longer exist later on. Knowing he may see them fall. He wished for them to be remembered. Places so beautiful gone and only remembered by gods that walked the earth as everyone else forgot lessons learned and telling taught. Wilbur made sure they would be in history to leave his history of song.

After a few years, he returned after a long time away from his family, missing them.

When he did return the Arctic Empire was at war again. His father and godfather both worked day and night to look after their people and make sure each of them were safe when Wilbur arrived.

This wasn't Wilbur's first war. His first war he couldn't remember. As he grew up he knew of war like he did music. He understood how it worked and what people did during it after all he wasn't a fool.

This was where Wilbur got his name. Similar to The Blood God and The Angel of Death, people started to call him the Bard of War. This only made sense of course. Wilbur was like a siren with his words, never on the front line like his family, no he prefered to make people trust in him before killing them as he has been taught.

He was deathly and as dangerous as his father in the sky and as ruthless as his godfather on land. Though he used a bow instead of a sword

Wilbur may have gotten a name for himself in war but he was still a musician at heart. Enjoying a guitar to a weapon.

People never expected a new god to show its face, no-one but centuries old people know where he came from. The War God was known for wings like music notes and a song so deadly and fighting of course. But the so-called War God preferred a guitar to a blade. The God of Music and War would be known for his song more than the death he bought.

People said he went hand in hand with the Blood God and Angel of Death, and he did, but a bit different to how people thought, considering when Wilbur was younger he did hold the hands of his caretakers.

For centuries the three stood together. Never once being sick of each other's company as everything changed. Soon enough they made the decision to go separate ways, after many wars the three were tired, and after too many people came to try and battle the trio to the death hoping to get some sort of reward for it but always losing to the three gods.

Letters were sent constantly between the three of what they were doing and how each other was, if one of them was in trouble they would be to the other's aid when needed.

At this time they met people and they changed for the better or for the worst, none of them knew.

After a few years of them sending letters, they noticed, not many people remembered them. People have seemed to have forgotten about the gods that still walk this earth and it seemed only some older people remembered it. They watched happily and they were forgotten by many, only some keeping the history they made together.

Wilbur made a new path for himself after meeting a few mortals he'd gotten attached to. He tried to not get attached to people due to knowing they will die and he'll be left alone again. But these children changed that so easily.

War happened and Wilbur couldn't let his abilities be shown in front of Dream. The man wanted so badly to be a god but fell short. He was manipulative and unjust.

Phil built his own world. Making temples change and building his own city, though there would be no inhabitants. Phil makes things rise from something broken and lost to something so beautiful and precious. Phil enjoyed it.

Techno spent his time fighting and farming. Not unusual for the piglin but certainly weird for others to see and watch as they saw the well known fighting farm potatoes of all things. He ended up fighting a winning duel to non a masked man named Dream, a person his godson would grow to fight as well.

Wars raged on and blades crashed against other blades and beautiful builds were crafted. They were happy with what they held.

Their bond was something they wished to keep with each other, something so happy and joyful. They would have their fights of course but apologies would be made, in their own way of course.

Time passed and the three were happy as it did.

That was until that fateful day.

For the trio, to them time was nothing but something they watched. Watching humans come and go watching cities fall and rise watching as everything left. To them time wasn't something they cared for. After all they had all the time they needed to see, they were immortal, a mortal couldn't kill them.

Then everything changed. Phil was the one to put his son out of his misery after begging to die.

Techno was forced to watch as his godson was slain right in front of him and blamed those who took his son from him. Blaming the blonde boy who came and was the mortal to trap Wilbur.

Wilbur dying was heartbreaking for the two. Both unknowing how to handle something like this.

Techno hid and cried for days. At first he tried to focus on building and his horse however that all came to a stop when Techno looked at himself in the mirror. His piglin form looking back at him. His piglin form which his godson had adored so much, that bought him comfort even when he was unknowing in what would happen.

His mirror was smashed that day, along with many other belongings. The Blood God fell to his knees that day and cried. Cried harder than he had before. He's piglin form washing away in his sadness and only leaving his more human form in return. A long pink braid sat there. The braid Wilbur had done.

In his rage, Techno grabbed his sword and split his hair while sobbing out for his godson to just come back to him.

With that, Techno dropped his sword and his braid and gripped his head in his hands as he cried. Cried for his godson to return, to not have to feel this overwhelming sadness he couldn't stop. It was too much and he wanted it to stop.

For the first time, but certainly not the last, Technoblade,The Blade, The Blood God, Techno, cried himself to sleep, exhaustion giving him peace and settling him into slumber.

(It wouldn't be until later when the blonde boy he blames for all this, braided his much shorter hair, just like Wilbur had done and later betrayed him. Leaving him)

Phil suffered greatly. His hands wouldn't stop shaking and he couldn't hold things anymore. He coped by living in the rebuilding of his son's country and talking to his sons, mortals, and friends. Holding a sword was too much for him. And looking anywhere close to the hole in the mountain, where he had stabbed his own son. His son had laid, peaceful in his arms.

It had taken him hours to move after it had happened. Crying out on repeat 'what have I done,'. Until his voice was horse and his head was dizzy.

His wings were something else. He couldn't stand to look at them, heartbreaking every time he saw them and imagined Wilburs fingers clumsily running through them, talking a mile a minute about flags or music. He couldn't stand their sight. If it hadn't been for Tubbo and Tommy finding him moments before he tried to hack them off with his own sword, they wouldn't be there anymore.

He would nearly always be cursed with nightmares of his son. Watching him killing his very own son and seeing his son right at him. Yelling at him for what he did. He typically woke up crying as there were only a few times he was allowed to sleep without being told of his worst mistake.

Sometimes Phil would be forced to do something worse than death himself. A few times he had woken up, unable to handle the weight of losing his son and he would think it was all just a dream. Fully believing his son was alive and well, just waiting for his son's next letter to arrive Until it hit him. Phil would refused to leave bed for days after that happened

Few things made it better for those two, Ghostbur reminded them of when Wilbur was little, too young to be known as The Bard of War, but both of them cried after meeting their friend. The name of the boy's toy sheep from when he was a child.

Wilbur did make history after all.

They could only wish they cared more for time.