Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in a land not so far from what we know. There was a realm known as Elegy; a fertile and expansive continent hidden in the oceans of Redactia. 

Many stories are told about how each Kingdom came to be. Where one stood, a monarch fell and the land was rebuilt in a new name decades later. Few people know when, but hope for the land finding its old semblance of peace was lost after the Meridian Forest appeared. Consuming land, buildings, and people like wildfire, trading order for wilderness.

Rumours claim the Forest was created by the earth itself. Dirt so tired of needless violence, it grew twisted and magic filled roots grown from the woe planted there. Others speculate that a great wizard cursed the land to spite a Queen who had long since wronged him, claiming her body as the final ingredient to declare the ground untameable.

A few quiet murmurs, passed around campfires on only the darkest of nights, tell of a great war between Land and Sky. That above the clouds resided powerful giants and their children. These giants were cruel and controlling, keeping their children hidden from the world below. The day the children of the sky descended to Elegy to discover their independence, angered many of the giants up above. These murmurs crescendo as they tell of the battle devouring many years and many lives, until two giants took their place alongside their children to fight, swaying the tide in their favour. Once the battle was finally won, the two giants were so wounded, with their blood drenching half the continent, that they died as soon as the white flag was raised. Using the last vestiges of their magic as they fell to seal up the hole in the clouds to protect their children one last time. Banishing their fellow giants to the sky, before laying down to rest in Elegy’s weeping arms. Nature fed from these Sovereigns; rotting, feeding, and growing into the Meridian Forest.

Regardless of which rumours you lend your ears and beliefs to; the truth remained that the island of Elegy was overrun by the cursed forest filled with magic, weapons, and grief.

First to tame the land was William Solaire. A man of great wealth who ventured into the forest alone, and emerged wielding a ruby encrusted sword and a plain waterskin. He claimed they were gifts bestowed to him by a woman from a lake. With it, she had entrusted to him access to the fountain of youth and a message. 

My sisters and I in Meridian’s care,

do we three find our rests.

But we each have secrets to share,

For those who conquer our tests.

Word spreads fast of mysterious women handing out swords and kingdoms to ordinary men, and soon the land was flooded with adventurers. They searched high and low, many losing their lives in the process. None were able to find one of the other sisters. It became nothing more than a dream to those travelling there, as time wore away ambition.

Until one day when a poor man was found stowaway on a merchant ship, hoping to trade with King Solaire. This man is the first we follow in these tales.

The first mate’s shriek echoes through the galley, as she drags a young man up to the top deck by the ear. “CAPTAIN!”

“What is it?” The gruff voice of the haggard captain replies limping out of his office.

“We've got a stowaway, sir,” she says, shaking the young man at him.

“Ow! Get off me!” He protests, squirming in her grip until he tumbles to the floor in front of the captain.

The old man sighs, “Get up, boy.”

“I'm not a boy.” He grumbles. “I'm twenty-four.”

The crew that had slowly gathered around the trio bursts into hysterics. 

“Great another child to join Elaenor and Frank.” A crewmate snorts, earning a scowl and kick from the first mate.

The captain holds up a hand. “What's your name then, boy?”

“Gabriel Shaw, but everyone just calls me Gabe.” He says, reluctantly taking the hand and pulling himself up.

“Nice to meet you Gabe, I'm Captain Jacob Talbot. Welcome aboard the Oto'Enid. Now, to what do we owe the pleasure of you stowing away on our ship today?”

“Our?” Gabe sidesteps the question.

“Ours,” Jacob laughs. “You think I'm arrogant enough to claim this whole ship as my own? I'd have a mutiny on my hands before I even left port.”

Gabe scuffs his shoe against the deck, shame-faced. “I guess I thought… if you're the Captain, you're in charge.”

“Oh don’t worry,” he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I am still very much in charge. I’m just not an asshole on top.”

Gabe gulps at the weight, recognising the assertive tone as one not to be messed with. No matter how jovial he seemed with his crew - Gabe was an outsider.

“Can I stay?” He pleads, swallowing his pride. “At least until we reach land, I can't swim so great.”

The first mate chuckles, “We're not the type to toss people overboard, let alone young lads like yourself. If we were, we would've tossed Frank long ago.”

“Oi!” A young man, about the same age as Gabe, emerges from the trap door he's stood next to.

“Oh fuck!” Gabe screeches, hopping out the way. “Watch it!”

“Sorry, my bad!” He rubs the back of his neck bashfully, “just heard sass coming from Elaenor up here: didn't realise we had a newbie.” He says jabbing a thumb over at the first mate.

Before Gabe can correct him, Captain Talbot cuts him off.

“Well timed, Frank.” Jacob rumbles, ruffling his hair as Frank joins them on the deck. “This is Gabe. Go get him some of your clothes. Who knows how long he's been in those.”

“Huh?” Gabe blinked, looking down at his torn shirt, and thumbs over the stain on the too small trousers.

“Your clothes are ruined, Gabe.” Elaenor chimes in. “You and Frank seem about the same size, and we can't have you wearing one thing the whole time.”

“C’mon!” Frank grabs Gabe by the scruff and yanks him down into the trapdoor where the two tumble down the ladder.

“Ow…” Gabe rubs his head. Maybe before he had thought this was a dream when he wasn’t immediately thrown overboard; but if this headache was anything to go by, this had to be real.

“My bad, again.” Frank holds out a hand. “I'm just so excited to have someone cool on board.”

“Cool?” Gabe snorts in disbelief. “Not sure about that.”

“Uh, yeah! You're a stowaway travelling to a far off land. I'm only here because my dad and sister are.” Frank explains, gesticulating wildly as he leads Gabe towards his quarters.

“Well, I'm only here because of my dad too. So, not cool.” Gabe picks at the sleeve of his shirt.

If he senses the tension in the admission, Frank doesn't mention it.

After trailing through the gently swaying corridors, the two arrive at a chipped wooden door with ‘FRANK’ carved just under the porthole.

“Once you've settled in, you can add your name underneath too! Just don't cross any bark lines. It's bad luck.”

“What are you talking about?” Gabe lets a small laugh loose for the first time and Frank lights up at the sight.

“It's bad luck to carve wood bark! Especially if it's your name, even just the first letter. The fae fuck with that stuff and you do NOT wanna mess with them.” He nods enthusiastically, opening the door and ushering Gabe inside.

“That's ridiculous. Fae aren't real.”

“Oh, you're in for a surprise.” Frank is unphased as he begins digging through the mess to leave space for Gabe, tossing various clothes his way. “You know the land we're heading to is literally overrun with an enchanted forest.”

“ Allegedly enchanted forest.” Gabe rolls his eyes.

“It is!” Frank insists, managing to unearth a second bed from beneath a collection of half folded laundry. “Listen, King Solaire is literally an immortal king because he met one of the Sisters!”

“Have you met the so-called immortal king? Or one of the ‘sisters’?” Gabe raises an eyebrow amused.

“Well, no, but that doesn't mean you should dismiss it immediately. I'm telling you now - don't mess with magic.”

“Alright well, I'll keep an eye out.” Gabe sighs, humouring him. He pauses for a moment, running a thumb over the soft material in his hand. “And thank you.”

“You can't thank me for warnings you're not taking.” Frank grins over his shoulder.

“For the clothes!” Gabe throws a shirt back at him. The two burst into laughter, their joy filling the corridors of the ship.

Up above, the Captain smiles, welcoming the levity that comes with youth onto his ship. The young men’s mirth music to his ears.

~

Weeks passed with Gabe aboard the Oto'Enid . When he’d asked the Captain where he'd gotten the name from, he just shook his head gravely and claimed such things were gifts and not to be questioned. 

The Captain assigned Gabe the same training as his son in learning the plethora of roles on the ship. Together, he and Frank worked on the ship under the dutiful eyes of the crew. Each member offering a form of training or wisdom to the two young men. Frank complained and called them chores, but Gabe relished the opportunity to learn something other than military tactics and coldness.

It was a blindingly sunny day when the first call of land was announced. Gabe was scrubbing the deck thanks to a particularly difficult encounter with an octopus that he was looking forward to eating later in revenge when the Captain’s deep timbre calls out.

“Land ho, crew!” He calls, beaming from ear to ear.

“Really? Where?!” Frank suddenly appears, scrambling up the rigging with a speed Gabe could only envy. Following behind his scrappy best friend, Gabe gazes out to watch in awe as an enormous island takes up the horizon where once there was only sea and sky.

“Woah,” he whispers, awestruck.

“Woah is right.” Frank nudges him, starry eyed. “I'm going to climb every single tree.”

“Hey, you two!” Elaenor calls up to them. “Get some stuff ready for a first exploration. King Solaire sent some folks to greet us.”

Quick as a flash, the two are sprinting to their room (Frank runs face first into the door), pulling clothes on at breakneck speed (Gabe falls over), and arriving back on deck, breathless.

Closer to the island now, they can see a small collection of people dressed in red and silver regalia. One particularly imposing figure sits proudly on a chestnut mare. She's dressed more elaborately than her guard and has a twisting silver circlet nested in her short hair.

Gabe is shaken from his revere by Elaenor slapping him up the back of his head and pointing towards the anchor. Refocusing, he rushes to help push it overboard, watching it sink to the bottom, and then joins the rest of the crew as they pile into the dinghies.

He ends up with Frank and Elaenor in the Captain’s boat, who gives the three a stern look. “Now we're meeting with King Solaire’s party because he's been incredibly generous in offering us food and shelter until we find our feet. When we get ashore you will bow to his daughter who he has sent to greet us.”

“Yes sir!” The three youths of the crew chime together.

“I heard rumours that Princess Alexis was only named the daughter of William because he found her as a thief trying to steal the magic water thingy that makes him live forever.” Frank whispers to Gabe as soon as his dad’s focus is on rowing again.

“How do you always know this stuff?” He eyes his friend suspiciously.

“Trade secret.” He shrugs.

“He reads his captain’s missives when he lets him. Perks of being the captain’s son.” Elaenor leans down between them.

“Shut up, Ellie!” Frank pushes her face away.

“Don't call me Ellie, we're basically the same age!” She slaps his arm and Gabe has to dodge out of the way as Frank tackles her. Gabe clings to the side of the boat as the movement rocks the boat aggressively.

The wrestling is broken up when both of them are lifted up by the scruffs of their necks by two giant hands. “I literally just told you both about leaving a good impression.” The captain says in fond exasperation. “Would it kill you two to get along?”

“Yes.” They say in sync before laughing together. The captain just sighs at their antics.

Gabe is distracted by something in the forest just to the left of the welcome party. Behind one of the imposing trees, he sees the outline of something gold, shining amongst the moss and dirt. He sees, for just a moment, what could be a hand. His body moves, no thought behind it, towards the sight. The first foot forward slips over the edge of the rowboat and plunges into the water. He falls fast, only saved by Elaenor, who grabs him by the sleeve before he can sink completely. He still manages to get a nice faceful of salty water. It wakes him from his stupor, and by the time he wipes it from his eyes, the gold vision is gone.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Elaenor scolded, while Frank mirrored her worried expression.

“You two look like mad parents.” Gabe snorts as he flops his wet hair out of his face. 

Elaenor flinches, covering her braids protectively. “Stop acting like a wet dog, there's literally royalty on the beach there.”

Frank pales suddenly at the mention of royalty, “Do I bow or curtsey? I can’t remember.”

“I don't think it matters… right?” Gabe falters in his assurance, looking to Elaenor who also looks panicked.

“Captain!” She hisses, “bow or curtsey?”

“Whatever you kids want to do.” He huffs. “And if that happens to include helping me row at any point it would be appreciated.”

“Not a kid.” Frank pouts as the trio settle in and take over rowing for the last stretch.

Jacob shoots him a look. “Then act like it.” This silences any lingering complaints.

As the crew of the Oto'Enid hit the shore, the knights flanking Princess Alexis help them up and out of the boats.. 

Up close, she looks more like a warlord than the fancy tapestries and paintings Gabe had seen of princesses back home. She's regal on her horse, silver armour covering her entirely, except for the crimson cloth bleeding through the gaps. Her circlet is dripping with rubies, but despite the warmth of the colour it is not reflected in her cold silver eyes.

“Captain Talbot I presume? My father had a message that you would be arriving first, as Captain Keaton was delayed by storms,” her voice lazily calls to them from atop her steed, making no move to greet them herself.

Captain Jacob bows carefully. “You are right, your highness. May we extend our gratitude to you and your father’s hospitality.”

“You may.” She sounds almost bored as she examines the hilt of her sword, not even deigning to look at the now assembled crew. “Come. My father wishes to greet you himself over dinner.”

The captain nods and begins carolling everyone, carefully bringing the dinghies to shore to hide within the tree line.

Gabe can't help but look out for a sliver of gold amongst the branches, as he pulls the final boat in. 

~

Dinner was a dull affair to say the least. Having grown accustomed to the casual and warm gatherings in the ship, it was an unpleasant return to the stuffy formal meal times his father insisted on.

Frank gushed about the King’s tale of the Sister and her Prophecy the moment they were shown to the privacy of their new room. Gabe wasn't all that interested. He missed the coziness of the ship over the lavishness of Skyrise Castle. 

He understood what Captain Talbot had meant now. There was a threat to King Solaire. He seemed perfectly civil, even nice - but it was clear who was in charge. Gabe supposed that's what worked for ruling a kingdom, but it didn’t seem like much fun.

It's these thoughts that keep him up all through the night. Even as Frank finally passes out and the moonlight is all that is left in the room with him. Its shine catches on one of the many silver embellishments painted on the ceiling and it reminds him of that golden shine from the beach. Determined for some fresh air and exploration, Gabe carefully climbs out the bedroom window. He was fortunate to have been given one on the ground floor, he thinks to himself as he topples gracelessly into a bush. Regardless of how graceful his exit was, he was out of the castle and free.

Already the fresh air was a comfort to him. After weeks on the open sea - the night sky was a welcome view. 

He found a small path heading north-west towards the woods and meandered along its trail. He searched the sky for his favourite constellations, so enraptured by the constellations that he misses a stray root and trips into a thicket of thorns.

He cries out as a particularly nasty branch scrapes a harsh line down his face. Tasting the blood in his mouth, he panics; thrashing, attempting to break free. 

Suddenly he hears a voice cry out. “Just stop moving for fuck’s sake and let me help you!”

He stills. He's not sure why he trusts the voice so much, but they sound… nice.

He feels gentle hands deftly weaving through the thicket, carefully unpicking each thorn from his clothes and skin. Thinking they're done, he sits up.

“Wait there's-” there's a loud tearing sound as his shirt rips completely down the middle. “-still a thorn in your shirt.” The voice finishes with a sigh.

Gabe’s curse dies in his throat when he looks at the figure in front of him. Tall and ethereal, they stood, gold draping over her in soft rivulets. Waves of ginger hair frame their face, with curious eyes that watch him.

“Hi.” He says after far too long a pause.

“Hi.” They respond, seemingly just as caught off guard. “You don't seem to look where you're going much.” She observes with a tilt of her head while she fidgets with her fingers..

“I- uh what?” Gabe stutters.

“This is the second time I've seen you fall.” They fail to conceal the twitch of their lips.

“Well-” Gabe flushes, wrapping the tatters of his shirt around him. “It was dark!”

“Oh, your shirt.” She reaches out a hand, holding the fabric delicately. “I'm sorry I should have been quicker.”

“No, no,” Gabe reassures. “I was the one who rushed.”

“I can… fix it for you if you want?” she offers, looking up at him hopefully and he feels his heart skip a beat.

“I mean you don't have to… only if you want to.” 

When they smile at his answer, Gabe has to force himself to look away.

“Okay, take it off.” they turn away, calling over their shoulder as they begin examining the nearest tree.

He complies and stands there awkwardly while the mysterious stranger pads around the tree. Spotting a particularly large mushroom she beams and gently pulls it from the tree roots.

“Here.” She hands it to him expectantly.

“Right. Uh, thank you.” He looks at it, then back up at her, then back down at the mushroom before raising it to his mouth.

“No, no, no, no!” She grabs his wrist. “It's for the bleeding.”

“Oh.” He tries not to let the embarrassment get to him. 

“Swap?” She holds out a hand for his shirt, which he hands to her instantly.

Glancing dubiously at the mushroom, he begins blindly dabbing it on his face. “Are you fae or something? Because my br- friend told me there were fae in these woods.” 

They look up, surprised. “Oh! No. The fae haven't been here for a long while.”

He sighs in relief, “Oh, good. Can I ask your name? I'm Gabriel - Gabe, for short.”

“You can shrink?” Her jaw drops open.

“I can shrink…?” He snickers before falling into full laughter as he realises what she meant.

“What?” They cross their arms. “You're just as bad as my sisters.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just, I've never heard that before.” He wipes a tear from his eyes. “I mean, people normally call me Gabe because it's a shorter name.”

Her mouth forms a little ‘o’ shape. “That makes more sense. In which case - I am Today, but you may call me Andromeda for short.”

“You can't say Andromeda for short, it's a longer name.”

“Yes, I can. A galaxy is far smaller than what is found in today.”

“Is Andromeda just the one you prefer?”

“...Maybe.”

Crack . The breaking of a branch snaps both their heads up. Before he can move, she disappears into the trees; gold dress whispering into the darkness.

Picking up the nearest tree branch Gabe holds it and stands between where they left and the sound had come from.

“Gabriel?” 

He startles as he recognises the voice.

“K-king Solaire?” His stick lowers to the ground.

Mirroring him, William lowers and sheathes his long shining blade. A formidable silver thing, encrusted with various bloody stones along its jagged hilt.

“What are you doing out in the Meridian so late? It's dangerou- where is your shirt?” He blinks, having finally processed the sight in front of him.

“Tripped.” Gabe blurts out, in quite possibly the least convincing tone in the entire history of conversation.

William just raises an eyebrow. “You… tripped?”

“Yeah into the thistles there.” He gestures to the bush behind him.

“...Right. Well I’m sure your father would prefer you not be out so late; especially not here.”

He puts one hand on his shoulder and the other on his sword as he guides Gabe back to the castle. Gabe tries to ignore how nice it feels to think of the Captain as his father.

Returning to the castle side by side with the King of all people, was far more embarrassing than he’d hoped. Especially shirtless. He avoids Jacob’s gaze as the captain wordlessly drapes his cloak over his bare shoulders, uttering a small “ thanks ” as he does. He doesn’t hear a response, nor any of the words the two older men exchanged as he thinks over the evening, deciding that a bit of humiliation was worth meeting Andromeda.

“Gabe?” The rumbling tone of the captain breaks through his wandering thoughts.

Panic overtakes him as he remembers exactly why he should not be daydreaming. “I’m sorry,.” he blurts out. He double takes as he realises the King is no longer in the room with them.

“I asked if you were alright.” A frown creases Jacob’s face as he examines Gabe’s face. “Are you?”

“Oh.” He blinks twice. “Yeah I’m good - just thinking.”

“About?” Jacob says carefully, allowing him to expand in his own time.

Gabe considers for a minute, twirling the corners of the cloak around his fingers absentmindedly. Andromeda hadn’t asked to be kept a secret, but he didn’t want to scare them off. ‘ If the king hasn’t already’ he thinks bitterly.

“Is leading a kingdom really so different from being a captain?” He chooses to go with the other question that had been lingering in his mind for now.

Jacob blinks once, then twice before he laughter bursts free from his chest. “Now what has driven you to that question?”

“Just,” Gabe considers his words carefully, “if I was in charge it seems easier to just tell people what to do. But it doesn’t feel right when I see King Solaire do it.”

“Son,” he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I could say some profound shit about leadership, but the truth is I can't tell you to care for other people. You learn in time you can't man a ship alone. Not in my experience at least.”

Gabe finally realises what the look in the rest of the crew’s eyes was whenever they looked at the Captain. It was something he'd never seen be earned before. Respect. His father had always fought tooth and nail for a scrap of what this man before him garnered in abundance. 

“Don’t tell the king I said that.” Jacob winks as he straightens up, eyes shining with amusement. “For what it’s worth Gabe, if you ever do become a king, I think you’d be alright.”

The young man snorts. “Sure, I’ll make sure you get the first look at my crown.”

“How about we get you a shirt first, hmm?” The Captain chuckles, leading him back to his room.

~

It’s a few days before Gabe hears anything from Andromeda. He returns to his palace room after an exhausting day learning animal care in the stables. And there, carefully placed on the bed, is his shirt wrapped in twine with a single pink carnation on top. 

He unties the knot with a slow reverence, pulling out the short that had been more than fixed; it had been improved. The previously blank and slightly small shirt had now been tailored to a more flattering shape, with embroidery transforming it from mere clothing to tapestry. And flowers, petals, and roots wove across its once plain expanse. As he opens the shirt to get a better look at it, a large waxy leaf drops from its folds and flutters onto his bed.

‘ I apologise for disappearing like that the other night. I was startled. I didn't trust whoever interrupted us would be as kind to me as you have been. I hope the shirt is fixed adequately enough, it was rather rushed. ’ 

He glances fondly at the gorgeously intricate and ‘rushed’ designs. 

‘ Meet me by the thicket where you tripped, tonight. I would like to see more of you.

Today and always,

Andromeda. ’

Gabe looks out the window at the sun sinking slowly below the horizon, and smiles. Quickly swapping out the shirts he opens the window, swinging his legs over the edge.

“Where are you going?” Elaenor’s voice chimes in from behind him.

“I was just watching the… sunset?” he winces, privately vowing to get better at lying, fast.

“Uh huh,” she says disbelievingly, leaning against the door. “Talk to me Gabe. Frank overheard William telling Captain that he found you in the Meridian the other night.”

“I-”

“Please don’t lie,” she whispers, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m asking as your friend, not as your first mate.”

“I’ve been seeing… someone.” He sighs, spinning back around to face her fully. 

“Same someone who gave you that shirt? Ew! Wait, is that why you were shirtless in the woods?” She asks incredulously.

“It got ripped and they fixed it for me!” He protests, face flushing. “Nothing else.”

“Dammit! I was rooting for you, Gabe.” She sighs, pulling out her notebook and pencil, making a note. “Now I owe Frank five silver.”

“You bet on me?” He asks, offended.

“I bet on you getting laid, Frank said there was no way.”

“I will be having words with Frank.” Gabe grumbles.

Elaenor puts the notebook away, searching his expression carefully. “Are you safe?”

“Yes. Promise.” He stands up, pressing his forehead to hers. A ritual he picked up from Frank. 

She exhales softly, closing her eyes. “They must be a hell of a person. Just keep us in the loop. Or I’ll have to steal that fancy sword and hunt you both down.”

He pulls back, grin splitting his face. “You’d have to catch me first.”

“Just go!” She slaps his arm. 

Not to be told twice he dives out the window just as the bedroom door opens.

“DID GABE JUST DIVE OUT THE WINDOW?” he hears Frank shriek alongside Elaenor’s entertained laughter as he runs towards the forest.

~

He arrives at the thicket, breathless. Pausing for a moment, he looks around hopefully for any sign of Andromeda.

“You wore the shirt,” they muse from behind him.

He spins around instantly. “Of course I did, it’s beautiful.” 

“Well, I am glad you like it, Gabe. And sorry I took so long to get it back to you.” 

“If it means I got to see you again, I’m not complaining.” He puts a hand out to lean on a tree but completely misses, stumbling back. Closing his eyes, he braces for an impact that never comes as strong arms wrap around his back. He opens them to see almost glowing amber eyes framed by a halo of golden hair. 

“...Hi,” he breathes, unable to look away.

“Hello,” she whispers, and he swears he could happily listen to nothing but her voice for eternity.

“Y-you’re strong.” 

“Oh! Sorry, too tight?” her brow creases and she sets him upright, taking a step back.

“No, no,” He closes the gap again, taking their hand gently. “It was good! I mean fine, like, ok.”

She looks down at where their hands are conjoined, before meeting his gaze once more. “Okay.”

“I like your eyes. Like stars, burning suns.” He murmurs, gently moving some hair out of their face.

“I like yours too. They remind me of lily pads in the water.”

“Lily pads?” He asks quietly.

“You’ve never seen them before?” 

Gabe considers for a moment, subconsciously rubbing his thumb over theirs. “No? I didn’t know there were other water sources outside the Solaire Kingdom.”

“There are plenty. There’s one just south-west of here that has an abandoned castle nearby - Oh! And there’s the Wolf Paw lakes if we go even further west.” She perks up, beginning to excitedly gesticulate. “Come!” 

They squeeze his hand and pull him along as they lead him through the woods.

~

The following weeks are filled with clandestine meetings under stars and moonlight; the two talking for hours. Had you asked either what they discussed, the best answer they could give you is a shrug with a dreamy smile. For a few precious hours a week they explored the forest together.

His longing stares into the wild forest at the Kingdom’s border were not missed by his friends. On the days he wasn’t able to meet up with Andromeda - Elaenor and Frank suffered through lamenting sighs and wistful looks to the middle distance.

“He is smitten .” Elaenor says dumbfounded, as they watch him carving ‘A + G’ into a tree with his pocket knife with a dreamy expression.

“Yeah, smitten.” Frank looks over at her, face resting on his palm.

“We’ll never finish mucking these stables if he keeps up like this.” She sighs, stabbing her pitchfork into the hay. “I miss the sea.”

Frank nods and leads a horse into their newly cleaned stable. “I know what you mean. Weird to be on solid land for so long.”

“It’s not like we’ll be here long.” She reasons.

“I guess? I’m just so bored. I don’t see why even when off the boat I’m stuck doing the worst chores with you and Gabe.” Frank grumbles, leaning his head against a horse’s side. “And he just disappears all the time to see his mystery sweetheart!”

“Wanna spy on them?” She raises an eyebrow at the offer.

“Ellie! That is the most outrageous thing I have ever heard you suggest. To spy on our dear and wonderful friend Gabriel? To see his mysterious partner? Tonight? I would never .” He gasps sarcastically.

“Sunset, outside your room, asshole.” She flips him off, walking away from her pile. “And watch out for the pitchfork!” She calls back over her shoulder.

“The what?” Frank sticks his head over the stable wall, just as said pitchfork falls down onto his head.

Elaenor just cackles at his cursing.

~

“Andromeda!” Gabe calls out to her, waving enthusiastically running towards the lake’s bank. 

As soon as they spot him, their face lights up and they run towards him. Once they’re within distance, he grabs them by the waist, lifting them up in a spinning hug. He whirls her around until they come to a breathless stop.

“Hello, Gabe.” She smiles, smoothing his shirt over the flowers. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” He ghosts his hands over hers, swallowing nervously. “I actually brought you something.” From his back pocket, he pulls out a pocket square. “Here.” He hands it to her looking away. 

In the bushes nearby, Frank slaps Elaenor’s arm excitedly. “He spent weeks learning this with one of the maids.” He hisses to her.

“Oh, Gabe.” Andromeda takes the cloth from him reverently. On it is a roughly embroidered scene of shooting stars falling towards the lake below. Bright explosions of colour dance behind each asteroid with small beads along their trails. It’s messy and rudimentary. And to Andromeda it is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. She looks up at Gabe, and reconsiders. Maybe the second most beautiful thing.

“I wanted to give you something back. I’ll get better, promise,” he states bashfully. 

“I really, really like it, Gabe.” She holds it against her heart. “It’ll never leave my side.”

‘Neither will I, hopefully.’ he thinks quietly to himself. 

Elaenor makes a fake gagging sound while Frank shushes her, a little too loudly. Gabe and Andromeda are broken out of their trance. This time, Andromeda doesn’t run, she puts a hand protectively over Gabe’s chest. Flinging a hand at the bushes, the plant splits down the middle in a creaking of branches, revealing Frank and Elaenor to the pair.

“Who are you? Why did you follow us?” She commands, hand still outstretched, pointed at the pair.

“Frank? Elaenor?” Gabe asks disbelievingly. “Why are you two here?”

“We just wanted to see who this mysterious stranger was!” Elaenor defends, hands up. 

“And you couldn’t just ask me?” Gabe clutches his chest, and Frank tries to ignore his friend’s expression when he asks.

He pleads, looking between the two. “We didn’t mean anything by it, we swear.” 

“What? Because I’m a Sister?” Andromeda hisses, standing between the three now. “Is that all this was? One big ploy, to use me?” 

“A Sister?” Gabe takes a step towards her, reaching for her. “I didn’t even know - h-how was I even meant to set this up? I promise I wouldn’t.”

“I’ve seen what people are like! For too long I have seen how they hunt, and take and… I thought you were different, Gabriel.” Their eyes are sparkling as they blink back tears. 

“I’ve been nothing but honest with you, I promise!”

“He is, he didn’t know,” Elaenor chimes in. “Please believe us when we say that.”

Frank nods emphatically. “Hand on heart, I swear.” 

Slowly she lowers her arms, trembling slightly. 

“Can we have time alone?” Gabe implores his friends. “You said you trusted me - prove it.”

Elaenor moves to say something but Frank holds her back. He looks Gabe in the eye and nods, and without saying a word, pulls Elaenor away. Andromeda watches them disappear between the tree trunks.

“Gabe…” She chokes out a whisper, picking at the hem of her dress. “I like you. Far more than I was ever supposed to. Please. Tell me I was right to trust you.”

“Can I touch you?” Gabe holds out his hand to her.

She nods wordlessly, stepping closer but avoiding looking at his face. Gently, he cups their cheek, pulling them ever so slightly closer before pressing his forehead to theirs.

“This.” He breathes softly against her. “This means you can trust me. I give myself to you. I didn’t even know you were a Sister… or quite what that is, if I’m honest. But I like Andromeda. I like you .”

Her breath hitches. Then, after a pause, the words spill out. “I need to show you something.”

“Okay.” He takes her hand with a tentative smile, giving it a squeeze. “I’m always right behind you.”

Carefully she begins to lead him through the Meridian. Their footsteps were different to how Gabe had seen before. There was an uncertainty in their grip, contrasting their confidence in the direction he was being taken. Up ahead, he sees the first of Wolf Paw Lakes, water gently lapping against the banks of the central open pool as they approach. The two trepidatiously make their way towards a small cave entrance, with ivy and moss draped elegantly across it.

Brushing the plants aside, Andromeda picks up a small lily with glowing golden threads shining through the petals. Blowing on it, the threads light up, filling the cave passage with a dancing orange hue.

“Wow,” Gabe whispers as the dark is banished. “How did you do that?”

“Magic of course,” She replies conspiratorially like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“It’s real?”

“I mean… yes?” They gesture to the glowing plant.

“I thought Frank made it up.” 

She laughs pulling him up a ledge, emerging into a small clearing. Scattered around are hundreds of the glowing lilies in a technicolour spray, projecting rainbow flecks all over. In the centre, there’s a roughly hewn stone with a large sword plunged in its centre. 

Andromeda finally stops, turning back to him, but not letting go of his hand. “I… want to give you something too. I have for a while now.” 

He lets them talk, giving their hands a small squeeze. 

“I am one of the three Sisters. Each of us are the last vestiges of magic that didn’t disperse into the Meridian Forest. Each of us was left with two gifts to give. We decided to give these to the land anew, choosing those we thought most worthy. I chose not to choose” She squeezes his hand gently back. “I was so… afraid of people. I wanted my gifts to be safe, hidden, away from the hunger I saw in others. Not you though. And hopefully, now I can start trusting more. Gabe. I don’t know if you’re worthy, only the magic can decide now, but you’re the only one I want to try.” 

“You think I could be a King? Like William? I can’t do that, in complete charge of everything. The lone seat at the head of a long table.”

“Who says you have to be like William?”

“You said I would be King if I passed your test.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ll be William.” Andromeda carefully smooths over the new forming crease on his brow. “You’ll be Gabe. And don’t tell my sister, but that’s much better in my opinion.”

His face lights up at the touch, leaning into it. “I could be like Jacob.” He murmurs, “Earn it, share it.”

The corner of her lips twitch at his words. “That’s how I know I’m choosing right. Even if the sword disagrees.”

“Okay.” He nods with a shaky exhale. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

They carefully press their forehead to his. “I give myself to you.”

Gabe approaches the sword. It’s different from William's - a sturdier, simpler handle with only a single rounded amber stone in the pommel. The blade itself is engraved with stars reaching rays of light down to rows of flowers. He carefully takes it in his hand and pulls. It falls out far easier than he expected and he topples backwards. Once again he feels warm arms wrap around him, catching him at the last moment.

“You did it!” They cheer, spinning him around.

“I did it!” He cries in disbelief. “Woah, okay, getting dizzy.” 

“Oops.” She places him back down, smoothing out her dress. “Okay okay. Ahem , if you could kneel. Gabriel Shaw. You are my Chosen. And so, I bestow unto you these three gifts.”

“I thought it was only two?” 

“Shh shh shh.” They giggle. “You’ll see. This sword is your first. It acts as a symbol of your right to leadership. And this -” They pull some moss from the floor, gently running their hands through it. It lights up at her touch, growing and darkening to a warm brown colour; until she holds a plush fur cloak in her arms. “Is my Shifter Cloak. A gift of Today, permitting you to transform into one creature it deems most compatible with you. It can be split off as many times as needed and sewn into any fabric, as a gift to others, should you wish.” She drapes it around his shoulders. “Do you accept?”

“I do.” He looks up at them with a giddy smirk.

“Then these gifts I do give to you. Along with this optional third, which you are free to reject, should you please.” She slowly kneels down in front of him, leaning in, cupping his face and pressing their lips against his. He reciprocates immediately, sword falling to the ground and hungrily pulling her in closer. Eventually they pull back for breath, pressing their foreheads together, breath mingling as they laugh giddily.

“Hi,” Gabe murmurs.

“Hello,” Andromeda replies.

Chapter Text

It was only a few years before the third sister, Tomorrow, was sighted on Elegy. Once the Shaw Kingdom had been established, the continent was flooded with visitors far more curious about the less reclusive King; thus a port was built in the South most point of the island. As time progressed, villages sprung up across the beaches electing to rule amongst themselves, untethered to either Solaire or Shaw.

Tomorrow saw this development and was fascinated, drawn to the shore to investigate. She had always irritated her siblings with relentless questions of why there had to be only one Chosen, and that rebellion had not changed as she had grown. 

Rumours began to spread of a good witch that was spying on the town; tales of generous and giving folks being observed by a glowing, bronze light. A young girl sharing her fruit with her friends noticed a new child off to the side watching them, and offered her fruit, complimenting her shiny copper eyes. A pensioner who always made sure to knit the fishermen new jumpers for winter, said a very polite dog with an ‘oddly shiny fur’ kept him company for a few days while his children visited family in another village. A carpenter fixing their neighbor’s roof after a storm was caught as they fell off their ladder by a man they'd never seen before who refused to look him in the face but whose hands were decked in beautiful rings.

As Tomorrow watched the community care for each other, building each other up; she made a decision. One cool spring night she snuck into the blacksmith's forge and shattered her sword into six pieces. Leaving a bronze mould on his anvil, she hid each piece around town and lay in wait for morning. 

One by one the villagers came together with their own part of the puzzle she had left them.

“It's part of one of the Sister’s swords! It has to be!” Beatrice, the seamstress, brandishes the hilt she'd found fixing up her neighbors’ clothes.

“That's not possible! Why is it all broken then?” Penny, the butcher, cries - nursing the cut she got from picking up a piece of the blade hidden in her kitchen.

“Maybe we have to remake it?” The blacksmith, Markl, suggests. “I was left this mould-”

Casper scoffs, waving the wire on their fishing rod, “How's bronze supposed to withstand that kind of heat? My husband Charlie got this pommel caught on this hook, and it doesn't look like much.”

“It's a gift!” A young voice chimes in from behind the agitated adults. The crowd parts, allowing the boy through who runs proudly up to his mother.

“What was that honey?” Beatrice asks her son gently.

“The nice lady said they were all one of her gifts.” He holds up a large onyx stone, cupped in his hand protectively. “We have to work together to remake it!”

“Where did you find this, Huxley?” Beatrice gasps.

“Mama’s flower shop. I told you the nice lady with sparkly eyes gave it to me!” He insists, placing the stone in her hands.

“I…” She looks up at the others, bewildered, “I suppose we’re building a sword.” 

~

Each member of the village worked to bring their gift to fruition. Once the sword had been reforged, it was displayed in a handcrafted stone statue of a hooded figure, holding the gift out to her people. At her feet bloom hundreds of bright yellow tulips, calling thank you up to her. 

Seeing her gift, displayed for all to enjoy, warmed Tomorrow's heart. She waited three days until the next council meeting. Slipping into the town hall, she stood at the back of the group; and coughed lightly. The sound somehow fills the whole space and the settling crowd simmers down into frantic whispers, turning their attention to the visitor.

“I believe I still owe you all one more gift.” She smiles.

There’s a loud gasp from the front row. “Miss Lady!” And little Huxley sprints into her right leg full speed, before quickly pulling back. “Sorry, please may I please give you a hug?”

“Hello again little one.” She chuckles, “and you may.” She pats his back softly as he hugs her tightly.

Another boy pipes up from the crowd, tentatively raising his hand. “You said there was a second gift? What is it? Is it hugs?” 

“Damien, do not speak out of turn. Manners.” A woman’s voice cuts in, and the boy’s hand is quickly dragged down back into the crowd.

“No no, who was that?” Tomorrow looks in the direction of the voice. “No one is in trouble, please.”

“It was him.” A third child stands up, pulling the little boy who spoke up with them to stand in front of her. “But please be nice to him, he was just asking questions.”

Tomorrow nods gratefully and turns to the boy. “Yes, there is a second gift. And you are?”

“Damien.” He says proudly, holding out his hand. “Damien Rhone.” 

“Well hello there Damien, would you like a hug too?” She shakes his hand.

“No, thank you. But I would like to know about the gift please.”

“Very well,” Rising again she sweeps forward, still carefully carrying Huxley on her leg, Tomorrow rests on the stage. “My second gift to you all, is knowledge. I have brought with me a spellbook of my own making, to allow your people to grow in mine and my Sister’s footsteps. My book shares our gifts with all who want it and who are willing to work hard for it.”

“What would you like to know about first, Damien?” She holds out her hand to him again.

Damien blinks hesitantly, looking back at where his mother is sitting. “You want me to choose one? Right now? Just like that?”

“There’s no bad choice. And there’s plenty of time to learn all sorts of things. For example-” She lifts her cloak above where her left leg should be, revealing a prosthetic leg built around a knot of vines twisting up to just below her hip, daisies blooming across it. “- this is one of the many ways I use magic. And I cannot wait to see what you do with this gift.”

He looks to the child next to him, still holding onto his hand. They give him a confident nod. “You got this.” They whisper, patting his arm.

“I need to think of the best one, you go first.” He nudges them forward.

“Then how about you, dear?” She winks at the child who held Damien’s hand.

They consider for a moment. “Mm, I'm thirsty.”  

“Easy.” Tomorrow rises to the challenge, eyes sparkling. 

She clasps her hands together before slowly pulling them apart and between her hands grow and stretch pools of water that break free into small bubbles. A couple of these float over to Dear, their hands outstretched happily. 

“Try one.” Tomorrow encourages, popping one in her mouth encouragingly.

Dear mimics her and cheers as the fruity flavour pops on their tongue. “It's like my favourite juice!”

A couple of the adults have now plucked bubbles out of the air making similar noises of astonishment and delight.

“Who's next?” Tomorrow crows, caught up in the excitement surrounding her. “Damien?”

“Something bright and big and powerful!” 

“Do you trust me to keep you safe?” She kneels down as best she can with Huxley still very much attached to her leg. 

Damien nods determinedly, face set proudly. “I'm strong, I can take it.”

“Alright, this won't hurt.” She gently blows on the top of his head, and he feels a strange tingling sensation like he's being covered in a cloth. “Hold out your hands.”

He obeys and with a snap flames burst to life in his palms. He panics at first but when Tomorrow takes his hands in hers, he realises that they don't hurt at all.

Eyes lighting up with joy he begins molding the dancing fire into various shapes, throwing it up in the air and catching it. His incredulous laughter joins Dear’s, filling the hall.

“Your turn little one.” Her voice quiets as she looks down at Huxley again. “Whatever you want.”

He thinks seriously for a minute. “I wanna be tall.” He decides. “And pretty! Like your magic leg.”

“You got it, hang tight.” 

There's a rumbling in the ground beneath them and a daisy, the size of a sled, bursts through the cracks in the stone flooring. It scoops up Huxley and Tomorrow and the two rise up, stopping just below the ceiling.

Finally releasing her leg Huxley crawls to the edge of the flower, peeking over the edge down at the mass of stunned villagers below him. He waves down at his mothers who wave back, slightly shell shocked.

“Everyone!” Tomorrow calls out. “This is my gift to you all, this is what I am giving you the potential to do!” Before her appears an emerald green bound book with curving bronze roots stamped into the cover. Taking a deep breath her eyes begin to glow and the room falls into a simmering silence.

“Bring me your children, curious and young,

Magic will be woven into their open arms,

And so they sleep and sing using breath and tongue,

Only the freed ones may break these cursed charms.”

And prophecy delivered, she bows as almost all of the crowd applauds.

~

‘My friend,

It has been too long since we last spoke. Thank you for your last letter! I'm sorry it took so long to reply, there was no intention to make you feel neglected I promise. Unless you didn't, which is also okay! But also still warrants an apology from me.

Nevertheless I am so excited to hear that you'll be coming here to the D.I.C.K., things have been hard at times but always rewarding. The academy has been the greatest thing for me and I really think you’d thrive here given the chance. I cannot wait for you to meet some of the people here. And besides, I’ve missed you.

I will meet you at the docks when you arrive next month. Safe travels!

Lasko’

Sailing was not Freelancer's strong suit. The writhing motion of the waves rocked the bundle of nerves in their stomach violently. This was not their first time sharing their lunch with the fish, nor would it likely be their last. They lament, allowing their head to drop and rest against the salt stained wood of the boat.

They were leaving their childhood house, job, and family behind for… a random island in the middle of the ocean that has only been populated in the last two decades. Fine. It was better than what was waiting for them back at home. But this was their last chance.

There hadn't been many children in their town growing up, their only friend had been a timid boy named Lasko. Their parents had been friends and the two had been near inseparable for their youth. Lasko never cared that strange things happened around Freelancer, and they never minded how the weather always seemed to take a turn when he got particularly worked up. But Lasko’s parents did. When Lasko was 17 his family home collapsed and all Freelancer was left with was a town swirling with rumours and a letter hidden under their bed in a lockbox. 

For many months they had mourned the loss of their only friend, until a strong wind sent a letter slamming into their face on an evening walk. In it he had apologised and explained how he had escaped his family and moved to a new island just a few weeks away by boat. He assured Freelancer that were they to give any reply they had to a crow (that he desperately hoped would get there in time) he would receive it, and that they would always be welcome to join him and learn to harness the magical residue within them should they ever wish. 

For years Freelancer lived on the island through Lasko’s stories on hastily written letters and wind borne crows; dreaming of magic, and beaches, and friends, in the backroom of their parents' haberdashery. It had always been a distant wish however, never something tangible. 

Until the day they met Caelum. 

They’re not quite sure when it was, but it had been a long day in their parents’ shop. They had been the last left there as always, hands sore and aching as they wiped tears away from their near finished sewing commission of a skirt. 

The bell above the door rang and they looked up, confused. The store was meant to be closed for the night, and they could've sworn they’d locked up hours ago.

Rising slowly they grab the closest thing to them that could even be considered a threat; lifting the dress mannequin was no easy task, but one they managed. Hefting it onto their shoulder they peek over at the door.

Nothing.

They sigh, lowering the mannequin to rest on the ground, too heavy to hold much longer. ‘Probably just a rat or something.’ They reassure themselves, turning back towards their workbench, searching the ground for any sign of the loose rodent.

“What are you looking for?” A voice pipes up behind them, prompting an unholy screech from their throat. They topple backwards over the mannequin, and land on their back. A bright pink head of curls and two curving bubblegum horns pop into view above them. Round face and bright pink eyes sparkling with mirth, he seems a little fuzzy around the edges, as if he's not fully there. 

The strange child gives Freelancer a small wave. “Hello! Do you know any games we can play?”

Freelancer is speechless, too astonished to process anything. 

The boy frowns in concern, “are you okay? Um, maybe I'm speaking the wrong language?” 

“Who the fuck are you?” They manage to choke out.

“Woah! You can't say that word. You're lucky you don't live where I do, you'd be in big trouble.” He tuts, tugging on their arm to help them stand up. “I'm Caelum! And luckily for us we're here instead of there and so now we can play!”

“I'm sorry - play?” Freelancer asks, stunned. 

Caelum groans, “yeah! Because I'm boooooored!” He dramatically flops against the desk, sagging to the floor. “Avior hasn't been able to sneak us out for ages and ages and agesssss - so I'm stuck with only homework and classes. Bleh”

“Okay wait wait wait. You're dressed with animal horns and some kind of flower dye in your hair…  so you could break into my shop to play?” They cross their arms skeptically, keeping their distance still. 

“Yup! And you were all by yourself AND seemed lonely so I thought we could hang out and be best friends!”

They can't fight the smile that tugs at their mouth at his sincerity. And they realise this was the first person they've spoken to that wasn't a customer in days. He certainly seemed non threatening enough, if a little peculiar.

“Caelum? Are you exploring dreams again?” A voice drawls from nowhere, interrupting their musing and causing Freelancer and Caelum to jump.

“Um… noooo?” Caelum offers to the air unconvincingly.

There's a long suffering sigh and a clawed, hot pink hand appears from behind Caelum, pulling him back towards the now glowing front door of the shop. 

Caelum pouts as he's slowly dragged back, digging his feet stubbornly into the floor. The voice groans. “You could help me out, you know? Rather than making me drag you all the way back home.”

Freelancer giggles at the exasperation in his tone, the dragging pauses for a second. There's silence and Caelum pulls a face like he's concentrating hard when he suddenly gasps. “YOU THINK THEY’RE CUTE!”

“I- Caelum. Stop it.” The voice grumbles. “I'm sure they're positively delightful company… But I'm only here to pick you up.”

“No no you think they're cute.” Caelum cheers. “You never ever think anyone could even p… paw… possible-ally be cute ever! And you’ve hung out with lots of humans before.”

In his excitement he's much less defiant as he's pulled away, not paying attention to his location and with a yelp he falls back through the glowing door.

“Ow- Caelum, you have got to be more careful.”

“Oops sorry! Good thing you caught me though Gav!”

Those are the last words Freelancer catches before the portal seals shut. They're left dazed in the middle of their shop. They pinch themselves half heartedly, unconvinced it would work and wake up at their work bench instantly; thread stuck to their face and a small line of drool on their chin. 

Freelancer looked down and the final pattern on the skirt had been sewn with a bright pastel pink thread. They had no idea their parents even owned a thread this vibrant, nor did they remember sewing this pattern at all. But there had been no time to fix it before the shop opened as they noticed how high the sun was as it filtered through the shop window. And to further surprise, the customer was thrilled. Mr Hawthorn was famously a very uptight customer, but had practically sung Freelancer’s praises that day. 

From then on, Caelum returned to their dreams where he could, offering encouragement and company through the night, along with a small gift in the morning.

They’re shaken out of their reverie with the loud call of “Land Ho!” from the bow of the ship. Hastening to grab what meager belongings they still called their own, they watched apprehensively as Elegy drew closer.

~

“And it’s actually called DICK?” 

The two jostled as the carriage careered over cobbled streets up from the docks. Lasko fiddling with an errant thread on his sleeve whilst Freelancer is pressed against the window watching the town go past. Both however were practically glowing at being reunited again.

“W-well technically it’s the Dahlia Independently Counselled Kingdom, named after the village that was here when the Sister Tomorrow arrived with her gifts!” Lasko stammers, “T-the Sisters are these magical beings by the way w-who- not that you wouldn’t, not that I’m insinuating or a-assuming that you wouldn’t know who they are! B-but regardless it was just easier to, to refer to it as DICK rather than, you know…”

Freelancer supplements with poorly concealed amusement. “The Dahlia Independently Counselled Kingdom?” 

Lasko nods emphatically. “Yes! Exactly. Y-you’re catching on quick.”

“It's good to see you again Lasko.” They nudge his side with a shy but happy smile.

“It’s good to see you too.” His nerves seem to settle down a little at the admission as they begin to fall into a more familiar routine.

“So am I getting a grand tour of the whole island, or just this fancy school I got persuaded to try.” They tease.

“A little of the island and a-all of the school. Obviously. N-n-not necessarily obvious to you, j-just that you obviously have to see the school because you'll be, well you'll be studying there!”

Freelancer grins, looping their arm through his. “Thank you Lasko, I'm very excited.”

“G-great! Well first off let's get you something to eat. Sweet or savoury? U-unless you, you want both! Or neither! I don't know what ship food is like.” 

Freelancer dodges out of the way of his anxiously fidgeting hands, grasping them in theirs. “Breathe Lasko. You're okay. Both sound good, you can give me more of a tour then yeah?”

Lasko forces himself to still as best he can. “Y-yes you're right. Pizza first?”

~

Emerging from Max’s Rustic Tavern, they're waved out by the very enthusiastic barkeep’s son. 

“Bye now! And thank you for stopping by Lasko, and lovely to meet you Freelancer!”

“We'll stop by the bakery, and, and, and put in a g-g-good word for you with the apprentice, d-don't worry!” Lasko gives an awkward thumbs up with a beaming smile.

“Thank you Vincent.” Freelancer waves shyly as the door shuts behind them. “He was nice.”

Lasko nods, “h-he’s great! Desperately in love with the baker at Sweet Dreams Bakery though. I- not that I should be telling you that.”

“Are you desperately in love with this magical baker too?” 

“Oh! N-no not at all! NOT T-THAT IT'S A BAD THING OF COURSE. They're p-p-perfectly wonderful I’m sure, I’m just, I'm not - you know - interested and they’re you know, a s-stranger basically. Besides I'm much more into- um- I-”

He's cut off by Freelancer’s laughter. “Sorry sorry I couldn't resist. You don't have to tell me anything you're not comfortable with. But I'm here to listen if you need, you can always trust me Lasko.”

“O-oh. Yes. Thank you.” He relaxes a modicum before contemplating something for a moment, weighing up the confession before dismissing it. “Come on, Sweet Dreams i-is right up ahead.”

The building they approach is quaint. A modest stone structure, painted to look like the night sky, with constellations spanning across the windows and walls. And under an awning with a square wooden sign that reads ‘Sweet Dreams Bakery’ below a crescent moon.

A small bell rings as they enter and a voice calls from behind a counter filled with various delicious baked goods. “Just a second!”

Ooh those look yummy!

Freelancer stumbles over the entryway as Caelum’s voice cheers in their head. Was this a dream? He'd never been able to speak to them while awake before. Lasko’s concerned face comes into view as they spiral.

“Are you alright Freelancer?”

“I- yes, sorry Lasko. Just thinking over all the options.” The mask slips far too easily into place as they smile at him. “If I'm not alright I'll tell you, don’t worry.”

“Kinda hard not to do that.” He chuckles, “Okay, well just in case, how about a code word if you feel nervous around new people? E-especially when we go into the school, it can get super busy. It'll be like w-when we were kids.” Freelancer felt a twist in their chest at the mention of their childhood together.

“Okay.” They smile, intertwining their pinky fingers. “How about ‘waffles’?” They say pointing out the sold out sign on the counter reading ‘No more waffles - stop asking!’.

Lasko giggles giving their pinky a squeeze in return. “That works I think.” 

Hello? 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” The voice from earlier reappears, as a subdued but polite person emerges, tying off their apron. “Been to Max’s I see.” They nod to the boxes in Freelancer’s arms.

“Uh yes, we met Vincent.” They fidget, desperately trying to retain their focus on the baker but failing miserably.

Helloooooooooo? Freelancer??

They give up, too overwhelmed, “Could you pick for me Lasko? I just need a moment outside.” 

Lasko looks like he’d rather be pushed into the bread oven than make this decision on his own; but Freelancer was already backing away and slipping out the door.

Caelum to Freelancer with a very important message!

“Caelum? What is it? Are you okay? How are you doing this?” The questions fall out rapid fire, voice cracking slightly as they try to keep the volume down.

YAY! You can hear me! I’m gooooood I just finished my studies for the day, when I felt your presence and got super excited! You're finally close enough that I can reach you like this, you were really really far before so that made it a little hard.

“You’re close? Do you go to the magic school or-” They clamp their mouth shut as a person walks by, giving them an awkward wave.

Nope! But that would be cool I think. I am so glad you’re so close now! And you feel really happy to be near your friend again.

“I… right. Is your brother there?” They ask, trying their best to seem nonchalant.

Who? Avior?

“No-”

Corvus?

“Not Cor-”

Not Vega right? He’s grumpy, you don’t wanna talk to him.

“Gavin! Is- is Gavin there?” They finally cut in exasperated.

Oh! No he’s out.

“Are all your other siblings there with you now then?”

No, they're in classes right now with Gavin too.

Freelancer does their best not to sigh exasperatedly, “Why aren't you in class?”

Well I'm the youngest! Caelum explains patiently like it was obvious. I'm not set to join the Chorus until much later so I have less studying. Vega is the oldest now since Polaris left to go back to the sky and Brachium is too sick. I miss her a lot, but I'm told she's having fun up there. I bet she doesn’t have to do homework like I do.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” They frown sympathetically.

“Don't worry about it.” Another voice dismisses their words, and Freelancer jumps half a foot in the air.

The owner of the voice grabs their arm, steadying them, where his hand grips them warms right through their jacket. “Are you okay? The fuck was that?”

“Uh yes sorry.” Freelancer searches mentally for Caelum’s voice, but he's gone. They look up to see a rather smartly dressed young man, looking irritably down at them through a pair of square glasses. “Woah, hi, you’re hot.” 

“I-” he freezes.

They scramble to correct their mistake, “I mean you are attractive - but I mean literally, your hand is really warm.”

“Oh shit.” He drops their arm quickly, “sorry I was just practicing, I do it when I'm thinking too hard. I didn't burn you did I?”

“Nah you're good.” They stabilise themselves on the bakery wall, “surely there are better things to practice with than flint and steel, you might hurt yourself.”

He stares at them dumbfounded for a moment. “...Do you not know what magic is?”

“What? Oh no no no I do, I'm just… getting used to it.” They cross their arms defensively. “What's got you so distracted you start to spontaneously combust anyways?”

It's the stranger’s turn to flounder, “I was just-” he eyes them over, “okay we're never going to see each other again, so if you must know I'm trying to pick out something for a date with my boyfriend.”

“Right.” Freelancer nods slowly, “you need help choosing something cute for your boyfriend?”

“...Yeah.” He deflates. “I know what he likes. I'm not an idiot, I just… don't want to get it wrong.”

“I understand.” They sit down on the curbstone, gesturing for him to join them. He sinks next to them with a sigh. The murmur of the street winds its way between them as they both take a moment to breathe.

“I'm Damien by the way.” He holds out a hand to shake with a wry smile. “Normal temperature now, I promise.”

“I'm-” 

“Freelancer!” Lasko waves emerging from the bakery.

“Freelancer, got it.” Damien nods.

“Wait-” Freelancer double takes, but their protests are forgotten by the arrival of Lasko.

“D-D-Damien hi!” He squeaks, looking terrified at the sight, a plethora of baked goods balanced precariously in his arms and in the basket hanging off his arm.

Damien looks up skeptically at the jittery new arrival. “Give me those.”

When Lasko freezes up, Damien sighs, pinching his nose under his glasses. “Not to take but you’re going to drop them if you hold them like that.”

“O-O-Oh! Right, of course.” Lasko hurriedly passes a few bagels down to Freelancer and loads up Damien’s arms with a varied assortment of muffins. He plops himself down between the two, the wicker basket now cradled to his chest.

Freelancer peers curiously inside. “How did you manage to fit our pizzas in there under all the dough?”

“Oh shit! I left them inside, b-be right back!” Lasko jumps like a bolt of lightning hit him, and darts back into the bakery. Leaving the two on the street under a mountain of baked goods. The cooling air of the afternoon would have been soothing for Freelancer had it not been for the rising heat from the man next to them. As his fingers tap frantically across his knee, tiny sparks sputter from under the nails.

Without looking at him, Freelancer asks, “The guy you’re going out with… Is he mean?”

Damien’s head whips up to glare at them. “Huxley doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, he is one of the nicest-”

“Then he’ll appreciate the thought you put into it.” 

Damien blinks twice. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Freelancer’s mouth twists up. “I’m gonna guess you have some sort of list right?”

Balancing the pile of muffins in his arms, he slowly reaches into his pocket and wordlessly hands them an itemised list of various bakery items. 

Cupcakes

PROS: Available in green and allows room for variety in sponge flavour

CONS: Smaller portion size, generic

Waffles

PROS: Allows for a reasonable allowance of toppings

CONS: Inferior to pancakes and better warm

“-Oh that’s objectively incorrect.” Freelancer shakes their head gravely at the parchment before they even finish reading.

“What? What is?” Damien rushes to look over their shoulder.

“Waffles are way better than pancakes!”

Damien scoffs, turning his head in an attempt to hide his smile. “You’re an idiot.”

They shrug, “maybe, but you should go for cupcakes.”

“Out of everything on the list? Why not your ‘superior’ waffles?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Waffles don’t come in green.” Before he can correct them, they helpfully add, “Nor do they come out of the bakery - they’re all out today.”

“Fuck.”

~

The Dahlia Academy for Magical Novices cuts an elaborate silhouette over the carriage as Freelancer, Lasko and half of the bakery’s stock pull up to the courtyard. An eclectic, plant covered collection of towers, spires and arches are scattered across the cool evening sky, with the wide entrance nestled in the middle of the chaos. Lasko is unfazed by this as he winds his way up to the double doors, while Freelancer unabashedly gapes at the architecture and abundant flora as they follow. Had they been paying more attention, they would have noticed the way Lasko’s pace speeds up as he practically bounds up to the person now opening the doors.

They wave smoothly at the arriving pair, watching Lasko approach fondly.

“Hello Dear!” He waves enthusiastically, face flushed and dropping a muffin in the process. 

They pick it up as it rolls to a stop at their feet. “Hey yourself, handsome.” They carefully extract a basket from his grip, reducing the mountain of baked goods into something far more manageable. 

“Hi.” Lasko turns a shade of pink Freelancer didn't think was possible. “I mean I've already said hello and you don't need to hear it twice. B-B-But it is really nice to see you! Not that you don't- don't deserve two greetings, you certainly do! Oh boy. I'm going to shut up now.”

“You're okay.” Dear murmurs softly, giving his hand a squeeze before turning their gaze to the other person present. “You must be Freelancer, I've heard so much about you.”

Freelancer gives an awkward half wave around a handful of pretzels. “Hello! It's nice meeting you, uh-?”

“Oh of course! I'm-”

“Hey Professor! Hey Lasko! Hey random new person!” A shorter man waves as he walks past, disappearing as fast as he appeared.

“Hey Xavier.” Dear sighs.

“You… teach here?” Freelancer asks bemused.

“No, people just call me that because I have done so much tutoring since becoming one of the three apprentices, and they won't stop.” They say exasperatedly, “I mean Lasko helps me out most of the time but no one calls him that.”

Lasko slowly offers a consoling look, “I'm sorry. I did get you your favourite, i-in that basket. If that helps. Or not! Don't worry if n-not it's f-fine.”

“Really?” Dear brightens up, fishing out an elaborate knot of pastry streaked with sugar, cinnamon, and applesauce. “Thank you so much darling.”

Lasko practically melts, half sinking into the ground as he stares at them adoringly. “You’re welcome my Dear.”

Freelancer looks between them, a grin slowly splitting their face.

Dear catches the look and clears their throat, gesturing to the entrance. “Shall we?”

The inside is just as eccentric as its plant covered exterior. Where Freelancer had expected vaulting ceilings and auspicious hallways was instead a cozy environment. Bookshelves lined the walls up to the ceiling, broken up only by windows proudly showing the outside. Large hand painted signs helpfully announcing where different classrooms were. Floating above the crowd are concentrated orbs of light, illuminating the halls. One or two students lounging in various chairs had their own personal ones hovering above the book or scroll they were perusing.

Walking the halls with Lasko and Dear quickly became overwhelming. The two seemed to be well known by the students and professors alike, Dear praised and thanked for their help on various subjects with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Lasko was just as hounded but was instead consistently handed various lists and requests that he awkwardly accepted as he sank under the pile of pastries and papers.

Gradually Freelancer felt themselves falling behind. The pair in front of them were fully absorbed in the mass of students swarming around them, and no one seemed to be taking any notice of them.

Except for one person. 

They catch the eye of the only one still looking at them. A brooding young man, holding a stack of books, gaze held on them curiously. Determined to at least try and socialise, they give him a small wave and light up as he returns it. As they step forward, a chattering swarm of students emerge from a classroom behind them, dragging them away from their friends and the mysterious student. They see him push forward after them but he quickly disappears behind the sea of bodies.

They're funnelled down the corridor and across several staircases, completely spun around, buffeted back and forth. They pass another classroom finishing for the day and the streams collide, crashing together until finally the crowd pushes a little too hard and Freelancer is falling forwards. 

They brace for impact, prepared to have their first day of freedom with a broken nose; when there's a woosh and a bronze light envelops them, leaving them face to face with the stone ground beneath them. They get a moment to breathlessly appreciate the solid grout before they're tipped back onto their feet.

“Are you alright little one?” A very concerned face drifted into view. A taller woman with bronze still glistening off her skin was quickly tucking a very official looking letter with a wolf wax seal into her pocket as she looks them over. She certainly looked human, but the air of authority she held around her spoke to something a little older. There was a slight downward tilt to her mouth, as if she was unaccustomed to frowning but couldn’t help herself.

“I think so.” Freelancer nods, doing their best to ignore the blatant stares of the students surrounding them.

The mysterious woman’s demeanour brightens immediately as they speak, eyes lighting up, letter seemingly forgotten as she pinches their shirt sleeve in abject fascination. “Oh you’re new! Hello there, I’m Tomorrow. Now where did you scuttle in from?”

They brush themselves off, smiling weakly up at the woman, feeling pinned to the spot in the eye of the storm of students. “S-sorry I was on a tour? I’m- ”

“Oh you must’ve met my little professor! They mentioned something to that effect this morning. Yes they're very cute, aren't they?” Tomorrow claps her hands together excitedly. “And were they with that Lasko boy? I mean man, sorry, I forget how fast you humans grow.”

“Uh yes actually Lasko is why I'm her-” They’re cut off again by the woman’s excitement.

“Marvellous! Such potential between those two.” She smiles fondly before seeming to realise who is standing before her. “But you, you are new! So promising, I can feel raw energy at the very least coming from you which makes up for your obvious lack of experience. You're a new pupil here, yes?”

Freelancer feels a little uneasy at how energetic Tomorrow had become, eyeing them up like fresh meat. “I'd like to be, yes. I travelled here after Lasko recommended it.”

“Oh! Wonderful! A whole new life! Completely new and unwritten - I love it. Now do some magic for me.”

Freelancer freezes, seeing the crowd was still gathered around them. They hear footsteps of someone arriving and they think they catch a flash of blue eyes for a moment, before redirecting their attention back to Tomorrow..“... Right now?” They feel themselves shrinking under her intense gaze.

“No time like the present!” She answers cheerfully, seating herself cross legged on the ground in front of them. “Well, except the future.” She winks, tinkling laughter escaping her at her own joke.

“I don’t really know how.” They answer lamely, tongue thick in their mouth. 

Tomorrow is undeterred. “Try.”

Freelancer feels frustration flare up in their gut, trying to force themselves to focus. They remember an afternoon with Caelum as he happily explained one of his classes to them while they embroidered.

“You really need to focus on breathing and stuff. But they make it suuuuuuper boring.” Caelum grumbles from the floor; inspecting a stuffed doll in the shape of a lamb that Freelancer had made for him the week before. “I just like seeing people happy, like the man with his fancy hat after we first met! He loved the skirt we made.”

Freelancer snorts, peering down at him from over the cloak they're working on. “You can do magic Caelum, isn't that exciting enough?”

“Not when it makes everyone look so serious. Not even Regulus wants to do fun stuff anymore. It's all ‘you should be doing your work Caelum’, and ‘you can't be part of the next chorus if you're not dill- deel- diligen… responsible.” He grumbles, his impression of his raspy voiced brother drawing a laugh out of Freelancer.

“You know I wish I could do magic, maybe I could get out of here and visit you.”

“You already have magic silly, how do you think we're talking? I was drifting when I felt your magic saying how sad you were. And so I came by and said hey brain, how about I come and hang out with you since you're so sad and you basically said yes and that's how I'm here.”

Freelancer gawks at him, entirely nonplussed. “I don't have magic.”

“Sure you do!” He bounces up. “It'll be a little weaker than mine because you're squishier than me, but it’s there!”

They narrow their eyes. “Are you just trying to make me feel better?”

He looks very offended at this accusation. “I’m not a liar! I mean it. All the times you were telling me about things appearing or burning stuff - that’s your magic!”

Their hand slips “Caelum… That’s my curse.” Freelancer murmurs, eyes darting to the door.

“Just close your eyes.” He whispers, holding their hands. “Trust me?”

Freelancer closes their eyes on the crowd and the strange woman in front of them.

“Take a biiiiiig deep breath because you need to focus on a feeling.”

Inhale. Focusing on Tomorrow, wanting to prove they belong. They refuse to go back to the family that cast them out.

“And… breathe out. And say uno!”

Freelancer steels themselves, filled with determination. “Uno!”

…And nothing happens. Their shoulders slump and they laugh a little as Caelum’s horns and curly hair poke into their view.

“Well maybe you can't do it in a dream.” He pats their head consolingly. “Is this helping? Gavin always does it and it makes me feel better.”

“Yeah bud, it is. Thank you.” 

Today was different, this time a rush of force draws up from the ground and explodes out from their hands. A huge blast of pink light fires towards Tomorrow - who makes no move to dodge and watches curiously as the light washes over her. Freelancer steps forward to help her but freezes as their mind is flooded with a vision. 

They’re looking out at two women; one with long straight silver hair, and the other with large golden curls blooming out from her as she holds her very round stomach.

Freelancer blinks twice, looking around at the unfamiliar room. An ornate bed chamber with a fur covered bed carved from a willow tree trunk in the corner. Paintings on the walls open the room up into a night sky, painted not with expertise but care. With the only clue as to the inhabitants being an austere royal painting of two royals that they somehow recognise as King Gabriel and Queen Andromeda Shaw. 

Their admiration of the room is interrupted by the silver haired lady. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this Today, I mean sustaining two human childre-”

“I told you to call me Andromeda.” The Queen interrupts

The words come from their mouth without them choosing to speak, witnessing the memory so passively felt intrusive at best as they hear Tomorrow’s voice. “What Yesterday means, Andromeda, is that you can simply choose a human child from one of Gabriel’s subjects! We're already running low on blood, so to spend so much is…”

“Selfish.” Yesterday cuts in.

“I was going to say risky.”

“They appreciate my honesty.”

Andromeda sighs loudly through the bickering. “I would appreciate you two being happy for me. It's going to be fine.”

The two other sisters share a look.

“I saw that!”

“Okay well tell us if you feel worse, okay?” Yesterday rests her hand on Andromeda’s shoulder delicately as if afraid she’ll shatter in her grip.

“I'll send you a fancy queen letter. There? Happy? Can we go back to my husband now?” Andromeda huffs, unable to fight off the smile at the thought. “And be excited! Twins are rare even for humans.”

“Enough.” Tomorrow’s voice this time comes from outside Freelancer’s body, and they stumble backwards as they feel the vision break and the electric buzz of magic settle into their core.

Tomorrow is not an imposing figure physically, but the power she emanates more than makes up for it as she slowly rises before Freelancer. “You are fascinating.” She holds up Freelancer’s chin. “Ask before you invade my mind next time.”

“I’m so sorry I didn-”

“I’m aware. But,” She lowers her voice so only Freelancer could hear her. “Maybe ask your little demon friend what the spell does before you cast it on people.”

They nod, biting their lip, shame slithering around their throat. 

“Good. When you find Lasko and his Dear again, have them keep a closer eye on you.” Tomorrow adjusts her shirt, tucking the letter from earlier deeper into her pocket and effortlessly sweeping away.

Freelancer is left in the centre of the now deathly quiet crowd, eyes watching them from all angles. The shame tightens its grip and they scan desperately for an opening. 

Blue eyes catch theirs and they recognise the brooding guy from earlier, pleading silently with him they take an uncertain step forward. He pushes through the stragglers in front of him and grabs their hand, pulling them away down the halls from the cramped corridor. 

~

Eventually he guides them into an empty classroom. “I’ve got you now little Raincloud, don’t worry we’re safe in here.” He assures them as he locks the door behind them.

“Thanks.” They mumble, attempting to shake off the last ten minutes.

“You’re welcome.” He relaxes into the room, not moving away from them or the doorway. “I’m Kody.”

Freelancer nods, “I’m-”

“Yeah I know.” He looks at them intently, when he notices their frown he adds, “I heard you say earlier. That was some cool magic, if a little… crude. You should consider a water specialisation like me if you can convince your magic to head that way to improve.”

“I’ve never been able to do magic before.” They argue defensively, picking at their sleeve with a half laugh. “I thought I’d get more of a chance to learn from Lasko or Professor maybe, instead of on my first day in front of a crowd.”

Kody’s expression twists for a second, marring the handsome mask of his face. “They won’t want to teach you the basics, either of them. They’d consider it a waste of their time being Tomorrow’s precious fairies and all. Well, Lasko isn’t one technically, but he basically is because he’s sleeping with Dear.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.” Their voice is quieter than they’d want, protective of their friends.

He ignores their comment, stepping uncomfortably close to them now. “If you want to get better, I can show you a way. Trust me?”

Before they can answer they feel a sharp sting on their finger as a small needle pierces it. A teardrop of blood wells in the spot. Kody wipes it away instantly, licking the red stain off his finger with a twisted smirk. They flinch, pulling away but he grabs their arm lightning fast.

“Stay still Raincloud." His voice is cooler than before, his gaze icy.

They feel an odd tingling spread from where his fingertips grip them. An uncomfortable buzzing probing over the surface of their skin. It coats their arm before spreading further, climbing up their clavicle and over their neck, tightening across their chest, and descending to their stomach. This felt wrong. The protest catches in their throat as they battle the urge to pull away. In horror, Freelancer realises they're aware of Kody now too, sticky, magical awareness of him spreading outwards across his body too. It feels weaker than his presence enveloping them, like they're merely getting an echo where he gets full access. Freelancer does their best to shake off the thoughts; to convince themselves this is to help their magic, he means well, it’s fine that it feels so violating… right?

…Right? 

There was nothing right about this, they just close their eyes and hope it would be over soon. Finally Kody pulls away and they shudder as the sensation finally stops spreading, leaving only the tingling still faintly present. The phantom fingerprints pressed all over their skin like a brand.

“There, now we can channel spells through each other.” He grins lazily, rolling his neck, relishing the feeling as he pulls out a clear crystal from his pocket and hanging it in front of the only window in the room. “Try casting a light spell, but through me. The word is ‘Lux’.”

Freelancer swallows, not trusting themselves to speak anything but the spell. As they do, a dazzling splash of glowing water bursts from Kody’s palm, lighting up the crystal he’d hung up, filling the space with dancing rainbows. It should have been beautiful, they should have felt proud. But they didn't.

There's a jerking sensation and they feel the connection snap with a shuddering twang that resonates through their body. They stumble into Kody, feeling hollowed out and they weren't entirely sure why.

“See? Well done.” Kody praises. “You've got some decent levels of raw power, keep this up and I might teach you how to cast non verbal spells.”

“That's possible?” They ask quietly, ignoring the compliment and finally pulling away, reaching behind them to fumble with the lock of the door.

Kody smirks, “once you're as advanced as me, yeah. I took it upon myself to teach myself non verbal spells before anyone else could. So don't tell anyone, okay? This is our secret.” His tone was gentle, but Freelancer shivered at the slimy taste of a threat lingering behind the words.

They nod, appeasing him, wanting nothing more than to be out of this room. “Well thanks Kody. I'll see you later.” They force the words out before hurrying away, trying to shake the feeling of him staring after them.

~

The corridors are a blur as they walk as fast as they can from that classroom. They have no idea where they’re going, and every stare seems like a threat, the walls pressing in on them.

They move aimlessly until they walk through a discreet door beside a window and emerge into an undisturbed courtyard with a large glass structure in the middle. The grass surrounding it growing wild and filled with various flowers, clovers, and mosses, broken up only by the occasional hole or mound. There’s no one else here aside from a young man absolutely covered in dirt sitting next to a stack of pristine textbooks. He looks up at the sound of their footsteps, his face relaxed in an easy going grin.

“Hey there dude! Uh wait, are you okay being called dude?” He inquires thoughtfully.

Freelancer nearly laughs at the sudden oasis of calm they’ve somehow stumbled into, “Yeah uh, it’s cool.”

“Awesome!” He slowly rises, towering over them and holds out his hand to shake. “I’m Huxley, welcome to my greenhouse!” 

They look down at his hand, he matches their gaze, noticing the soil still coating his palm. “Oh shoot my bad.” He chuckles, wiping it onto his trouser leg, “I was just doing some digging.”

Still slightly dazed, they shake their head, “It’s no problem, I just didn’t expect to find someone out here.” There’s a sound from the building, startling out of the comfortable atmosphere and their heartrate spikes again. Something about Huxley’s laid back attitude comforts them and Freelancer makes the snap decision to trust him. “Can I hide in here with you? Please? Just for a little bit.”

They feel guilty as immediately worry pinches at his soft face. “Of course dude, come in here I got some chairs and stuff.” Huxley asks no questions for now, scooping up the textbooks delicately as he ushers them inside. It’s not as humid inside as they had anticipated. Sunlight blankets the diverse collection of plants in various pots and trays scattered around the space. There are watering cans hanging alongside vines and a pleasant smell of earth in the air. One particular plant catches their eye; a thick leafy stalk winding up the left wall and pressing insistently against the ceiling.

“Here.” Their curiosity is interrupted by the dragging of a chair to sit by a roughly carved wooden table. Huxley carefully places the textbooks onto a box next to him.

Freelancer sits cautiously, keeping Huxley in their periphery. As they watch him, framed by the green flora backdrop, the name sparks a memory. “Do you know Damien?”

Huxley’s smile somehow grows even wider at the name, eyes lighting up. “Yeah! He’s my boyfriend. He lent me these notebooks actually.” He softens at the sight. “He’s great. Uh, why? Do you know him?”

“Yeah, yeah I do.” They sigh in relief, finally releasing some of the tension from Kody. “he seems… intense? But well intentioned.”

“That’s my Dames.” He looks wistfully out the window, getting lost in thought for a second. “Oh! Would you like some tea? I think Prof got me some back here. They're always saying I need to get better at hosting.” He finds a wicker basket and begins digging haphazardly through it, finally emerging with a somewhat dusty tea pot and a much cleaner sewn pouch of tea leaves. “I haven’t had proper guests for a while.” He admits bashfully.

“That’s okay, tea sounds perfect.” Freelancer feels the corner of their mouth twitch pleasantly.

It’s peaceful in the greenhouse while Huxley meticulously prepares the tea. They watch curiously as he mutters various phrases and the earthy smell intensifies and plants sprout from thin air, filling the pot with water dripping off their leaves from non-existent rain. He tips the tea leaves into the pot, cupping the base delicately under two palm leaves as they begin to heat up, boiling the water within. The performance is finished when he places the teapot onto the table, a thick lily pad forms protectively on the table. The dance of magic around Huxley as he moves through the space was enchanting, and Freelancer finds themselves unabashedly staring in awe.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened that had you so spooked?” Huxley’s voice is soft as he asks. “You totally don’t have to, but you seem pretty shook up.”

Reality comes crashing back and Freelancer swallows, deliberating. They follow the arch of the greenhouse covered in magnificent and perfect flora. “You know magic well, right?”

“Well yeah, ever since I was a kid.” 

“Really? You can learn that young?”

“Magic isn’t easy but it can be taught; I learnt to draw on the power of the land and like connect to her and stuff when Tomorrow first got here.”

“And your magic is… plants?”

He laughs good naturedly. “Sorta! Pure magic is more powerful but it's really difficult to connect with, tiring too. So most people who learn channel it through an element. Technically shifters also use magic but it's not the same as we do. They have their coat things that help them transform into the animal their magic chose, but we can do a lot more stuff with our magic - actual spells. We're the first people to actually learn magic itself rather than how to use a magical object, if that makes sense. It's exciting and new, who knows what levels future mages will be able to take their magic to?” He sits back, smiling wide as a small vine wraps around his finger affectionately. “I'm so excited to see it dude, I bet it'll help a lot of people.”

“So you channel it through an element? What made you choose earth? Or plants I guess.” They take a timid sip of their tea, an appreciative sound escaping them at the pleasant taste.

“I kinda didn't.” He rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Your magic connects to what it works best with. Some people never find a specific element. It's not vital for casting, just helps you find where you want to root.”

“Is water one?” Their grip tightening on the mug is not missed by Huxley.

He has a knowing look in his eye when he confirms their suspicion, but is careful not to pry again. 

“Is it normal to cast spells through other people?” They ask timidly, shivering slightly.

Huxley looks a little flustered at the question, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes briefly stopping on Damien’s textbooks. “It’s, well, it’s a thing you can do yeah. But it's like super personal, because you really get a feeling of what a person is like, you know? Connecting with their magic specialisation and stuff is meaningful to who a person is.”

They let out a breath, putting the tea down. “Is it meant to feel so… invasive?”

The air seems to still as they ask that, and a dawning realisation grows on Huxley’s face. “Did someone cast a spell through you?” He speaks carefully as if afraid they’ll bolt if he moves too fast.

“No. Well I mean kinda? He got me to cast it through him.”

“He got you to?” 

“Well-” Freelancer keeps their gaze solidly on their sleeve. “It was just weird I guess, he told me to do it through him, pricked my finger with a needle thing. I didn’t really know what to do.”

Huxley inhales sharply. “Did he explain or anything? Some kind of permission? Did you even know what it was?”

“It’s my first day. But it’s… fine, it just felt weird and I’m probably overwhelmed from everything that’s happened today.”

“It’s not okay bro.” Huxley’s words are not harsh, but they stop Freelancer from spiralling further. “Who did this?” Anger slips into his tone, barely held back. The once peaceful vine in his hand twisting tightly around his knuckles.

“His name is Kody.” They whisper. 

“That fucking prick. I'm gonna-” he catches himself as Freelancer flinches back. It's just barely an inch, but he notices. 

“I am so sorry that that happened to you.” He clenches his fists before letting them go with a breath. “And I’m sorry I let my anger get the better of me there, I wanna help you out, not add stress. That's not cool. But what that Kody guy did to you, was not okay. And I just wanna tell you that you didn't deserve that.”

His gaze is so sincere it renders Freelancer almost speechless. “Why are you being so nice to me?” They choke out, unable to stop themselves from asking. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His eyes crinkle as he looks at them. “Tell me what you wanna do, and we can take it from there. Even if it's taking a break from talking about it for a bit.”

“Can you explain more magic to me?” Freelancer swirls the dregs of tea around in their cup. “So I'm not as behind as everyone else?”

“I'll do my best!” Huxley reaches for the teapot to refill their cup. “Though the Prof is really better at explaining stuff than me.”

They accept the refill with a shrug. “I like the way you explain things, and you seem pretty damn good at magic to me.” They gesture to the flourishing greenhouse around them.

Huxley flushes and Freelancer decides not to point out the bright pink blooms that appear behind him.

~

A few days later Huxley is leading Freelancer and Lasko up a series of dizzying staircases through the western tower that lead higher and higher, until Freelancer was almost convinced they had broken through the clouds. It had taken a lot of discussion between the three of them, but both men had assured Freelancer that they would support them with whatever decision they made. Ultimately they decided to report Kody to Tomorrow. They’d felt so confident with the decision before they’d begun the long journey to the Eastern Tower.

The door to Tomorrow’s lab was a lot more unassuming than Freelancer would have guessed. The humble wood showing no signs of being extraordinary aside from a thrumming magic that seemed to encourage them to open it; brimming with energy and potential.

Neither man said anything when Freelancer’s hand slips back towards Lasko’s, interlocking their pinkies again.

Huxley raises his hand to knock but before he can the door is flung open. Huxley is unphased however and gestures for the two to follow. 

Lasko gives Freelancer a reassuring smile “It still makes me jump, e-even though I know it's coming.” He shudders a little. “Every time.”

Inside was a vast laboratory, and less generously referred to as an utter mess. How the grand room inside fit into the skinny tower poking out the side of the castle was anyone's guess. It mirrored a lot of the architecture of the main castle halls, as if this one room had been the seed from which it sprung. The walls were lined with twisting vines reminiscent of Huxley’s greenhouse, with tables of every size covered in various devices and potion bottles that were dizzying to look at. In the corner a fireplace burned happily, flames dancing over multicoloured coals and sparking to no harm to the stacks of paper at its feet. The room’s temperature was balanced with a playful breeze that seemed to take a particular interest in Lasko, ruffling his hair while he bashfully tried to calm it down. After its initial excitement it settled around his shoulders, leaving his shirt collar fluttering perpetually. Looking down, Freelancer notices the floor was translucent wherever they stepped, the wooden planks fading away to reveal water lapping just under the surface.

“Lasko! Huxley! And the new one!” A voice calls from very high up. “I was wondering when you would get here, my pet breeze has been buzzing all morning waiting.”

Tomorrow peaks her head excitedly over a ledge she'd been working on and clambers down the thickest vine along the plant wall. It's a complex twisting of multiple plants to make a haphazard lumpy shape with large leaves sticking out at regular intervals. 

She pulls a pair of goggles up from her face to rest on her head. “This new specimen of magical plant is wonderful Huxley.” She claps a hand on his shoulder, “The leaves need a little work for being useful footholds, but the trunk of the thing is marvellous, to think it all came from one tiny bean.”

“Thanks, Miss Lady.” He beams a toothy smile down at her.

“And Lasko,” She holds out her arms to him, pinching his cheeks a little too hard. “You’re just so cute! How are you doing?”

Lasko accepts the affection shyly, “I-I-I’m well, thank you.”

“Good good good. And you.” Tomorrow’s gaze moves to Freelancer, alight with fascination. “My mind reader, what brings you to me?”

“Take your time, Freelancer.” Huxley reassures gently as Lasko squeezes their finger.

It takes them a moment to gather themselves. Searching for the words they’d practiced over and over in their head that left once all the eyes turned to them. “Someone, I mean uh Kody-” the name tastes bitter on their tongue but they push on at Lasko’s encouraging expression. “Got me to cast a spell through him.”

“Oh congratulations! That's a very advanced bit of magic, especially for one so young. Though I'm surprised these two were so worried.” Tomorrow laughs, gesturing at the boys. “I suppose I can check my schedule for the occasional one on one, but I'm afraid that too many things have come up to take another personal student entirely. I can bring this Kody boy too, how about that?”

Freelancer is all too ready to swallow this misinterpretation just to get out of the room. They were fine. How had they let anyone talk them into this.

“No. That's not what we're here for.” Lasko’s voice is assertive and Freelancer is reminded once again how long it's been since they’d been kids. “He didn't ask permission, he forced it on them. He needs to be punished not rewarded.”

The enthusiasm in Tomorrow’s eyes dies at Lasko’s words and the magic subdues in the space. “Oh. Well. I apologise Freelancer I… well I will do something. I'm in charge afterall. The founder.” The words seem to be just as much comfort for herself as they were for the students in front of her.

Freelancer just nods wordlessly, relief settling over them, though a bitter taste still lingered on the back of their tongue.

“I will check with my teachers when I resummon them later. Yes I shall think of something appropriate, worry not.” She gradually comes back into herself as she voices her organisation out loud. “Okay! Sorted. Is that all? I really do have lots to be doing.” 

Already Tomorrow has drifted back to the large desk in the middle of the room, prepping some green sludge to go into a shimmering glass flask.

Lasko and Huxley look to Freelancer for confirmation. They give a stilted nod and a step back. With a muttered “thank you” they turn and briskly leave the tower.

As they go Lasko moves to follow but Huxley stops him, “I'll catch up, you look after them.” 

Lasko nods and scurries away, the door falling shut behind him with a click.

Tomorrow doesn't seem to notice Huxley has remained; she's so engrossed in her work. Or if she did, she made no effort to acknowledge him.

“You could have been nicer to them.” Huxley forces himself to speak up.

“They could have been clearer, Little One.” She tuts absentmindedly. “A shame but it hopefully won't turn them off magic, I’d hate to let them sleep on that level of power unused.”

“It was a traumatic experience!” The anger slipping into his voice makes her pause for a beat.

Tomorrow snaps her fingers and an acrid green liquid fills the flask. “You're right. I forget in my age that things aren't so easily smoothed over.” Her jaw clenches, “there's never an easy fix. It's always more work and more emotions and irrationality. Especially with humans. So persuasive but childish.”

“Just promise me you’ll protect them.” Huxley whispers, “All of us. Please. You said you would help us, help me.”

Tomorrow knits her brows together, face unreadable as she swills a mysterious liquid round a flask. “I always do Huxley, you know this.”

“I know you do.” He hurries to add, rubbing the back of his neck. “But this happened here. The same time you were. They didn't deserve that, no one deserves that, you said never again-”

She places her tongs down, finally turning to him. “I am not all powerful, Huxley, nor can I be everywhere at once. What happened to your little friend-”

“Freelancer.” He corrects her.

“-Freelancer.” She sighs. “Was unfortunate, but these things happen in the world. I will do what I can, but I cannot be responsible for every human I meet, I have enough pets as is. You can understand that can’t you, Huxley?”

There’s a beat as they look at each other before Huxley deflates a little, conceding. “And you swear you’ll deal with Kody?”

“I will punish him and do my best to prevent this from happening again.” She says severely. "Really though, a lot of effort for someone you barely know.”

“They seem nice. Do I need to know them to stick up for them?”

She examines his face as if remembering someone, and then returns to her neglected flask. “You're very precious to me, Huxley. Ever since I saw you I knew you were special. Why do you think I gave you the most precious gift I had all those years ago?”

“The gem?”

She chuckles fondly. “No, my message. The seed to my prophecy. I've taught you better than to appreciate a shiny rock over knowledge.”

“Ohhh, right.” He groans, “that was so long ago now I forget.”

“You grow so fast, you used to be so little.” Tomorrow murmurs wistfully, dropping a few powders and a seed into the flask and swilling it around. “Careful now this mix can be a little v-”

Before she can finish the warning the glass shatters, lightning fast she throws up a shield around them both. But she stretched the shield too far in an attempt to protect the study materials on the desk and a shard of glass cuts across Huxley’s cheek.

His hiss of pain is buried beneath Tomorrow’s shrieks of laughter “yes yes! Oh it works look look!” She crows running back to the table. 

Holding up the remains of the flask victoriously, she presents a glimmering bronze daisy. 

“Take it take it.” She encourages him, practically vibrating with excitement.

Huxley gently scoops the flower from its jagged glass prison and cradles it carefully in his hands. “What is it?”

“It's a way to communicate with me if you are in dire need of help. It should work now. I've been working on this for a while. I made it for something else but since you seem so worried you have this one, I can make plenty more now.” 

“Wow.” He admires it and delicately places it in his pocket. 

“Now go on, shoo.” She pats his back gesturing him to the door, picking up a book from the ground.

He knows better when to argue with her and resigns himself to having the rest of the conversation another time.

“Oh and Huxley!” She calls after him.

“Yeah?”

“Don't get blood on it, you're bleeding a little there.” She gestures to his cheek, waving cheerfully as the door shuts between them - leaving Huxley staring at the plain wood.

~

The following weeks for Freelancer were a blur of studying and adjusting to their new life at the academy. 

For one, their classes were a whirlwind of theory and practice. Each class felt like a trial they had to prove themselves in and they threw themselves into their work. Each new spell felt like a step closer to success, what that looked like they still were unsure, but they assured themselves it would be worth it. 

For another, the new room they’d gotten was far bigger than anything they were used to from back home. It turns out that Huxley, Dear, and Damien were known as the school ‘fairies’ due to being Tomorrow’s first and only apprentices, and that came with privileges that they were eager to share. The group had a shared common room with bedrooms branching off into nowhere nestled just above Huxley’s hidden greenhouse. Freelancer decided not to question where this space was coming from. This meant their mornings and evenings were filled with the pleasant sight of their friends gathered around the fireplace or lounging together on a sofa. 

One particular evening, however, Freelancer found them playing a peculiar looking board game.

“It’s called Fate!” Lasko explains excitedly, practically bouncing at the opportunity to explain it to them. “Basically you just roll these three six sided dice to determine how far you can move, and what your Burden of the Fates will be.” He waggles his fingers dramatically as he hands Freelancer the dice.

Dear watches fondly from the sidelines as they reset the board absent mindedly. Freelancer looks over the shiny six sided dice in their hand, admiring the marble pattern on the faces. 

“It’s not a competitive game though, so no need to worry.” Huxley chimes in from next to them, drawing their attention back to the game. “See, we all get like a group goal thingy on how the game is supposed to end-”

“Coheisive and Organisational Conclusion Knowledge.” Lasko adds helpfully.

“Yeah that! And uh we have to work together to make it come true. Like we just need to bring around the game’s Fate.” He finishes proudly.

“I still think the complexity of acronyms in this game is unnecessary.” Damien sighs, swiping a small wooden piece as soon as Dear places it back down. “But it is a fun game.”

“Damien, you're always the Phoenix.” Dear grumbles.

He shoots them a defensive look, “And you’re always the Otter, what’s your point?”

“Freelancer should get to choose first since they’ve never played before.” 

Freelancer holds up both their hands, “No no, please. I’ll pick from whatever’s left I don't mind.”

“Are you sure?” Huxley looks over at them hopefully from where his hand keeps inching closer to the Bear piece.

They laugh, pushing it towards him. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Yesss.” He cheers, pulling them into a huge bear hug and lifting them up slightly. “Oh whoops sorry, lemme put you down.” He says bashfully.

“He's been waiting to do that since you said you were friends.” Damien says affectionately.

Huxley makes a small psh sound as he rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“So which piece is yours Lasko?” Freelancer looks curiously at the remaining three pieces.

“I mean I normally take the flying squirrel. But i-i-if you’d prefer to play- to play the game as him, then that's more than okay, I truly don't mind-”

They place the piece in his wringing hands, stalling his feverish rambles in their tracks. “Then it's all yours.”

“T-thank you.” He blushes a little and the group pretend not to notice when Dear sneaks their hand under the table to intertwine with his spare one.

The remaining two pieces are a sleepy cat, curled up peacefully on a pillow, and an elegant peacock, posing dramatically with its tail feathers. Freelancer looks at both in awe, admiring the craftsmanship of the carved wood.

“Cat.” They decide quickly, running a finger delicately along its back. “I think this one is very cute.”

“Peacock sits out again!” Dear tucks it away to leave space on the board. “One day you'll get a turn little guy.”

“Maybe we can convince Xavier to join us one time.” Huxley suggests. 

“Absolutely.” Lasko nods, “it's always better to have all six players.”

Once everyone’s pieces are chosen and set up, Freelancer watches, intrigued, as Damien and Lasko immediately become laser focused.

They steadily find their feet as the rounds progress, becoming more confident in their abilities.

“Don't pick left.” Damien says sharply just before Freelancer could move their piece when it came around to their turn again. 

Dear lightly slaps Damien’s arm. “Shush let them play.”

Freelancer smirks mischievously at Damien. “My left or yours?” They ask as they immediately head down the route Damien suggested against.

“You pass out.” Lasko announces reading off the card, his voice muffled by the copious amount of snacks stuffed in his cheeks, and Freelancer's arrogance falls.

“And no one's close enough to revive you for at least a few rounds.” It's Damien’s turn to look smug, “maybe you should've listened to me after all.”

Freelancer playfully glares at him. “Ass.” They mutter under their breath.

Just when Damien is about to retort he's interrupted by a sharp knock at the door to the common room.

“I'll get it.” Freelancer stands up with a stretch, "since Damien killed my character and everything.” They call over their shoulder.

“You're not dead just unconscious, get a grip Freelancer.” He grumbles after them while the other three fall into laughter at his grumpy expression.

“Awh, Dames don't pout.” Huxley side hugs him and the room’s temperature rises as Damien half heartedly pushes him away.

Freelancer opens the door, still laughing before freezing in horror. 

Kody is stood before them, clutching his satchel looking almost shy.

“Hi… can we talk?” He asks meekly, keeping an eye on their friends in his periphery.

“What are you doing here, Kody?”

At the mention of his name the room goes quiet and everyone looks up from the game. The air cools instantly and Freelancer can feel the tension thickening.

“I heard you were staying here and I just wanted to talk about what happened. Get some clarity and communication going between us.” 

Freelancer doesn't move, staring at him. They half go to step out with him, moving on autopilot, when they feel a large hand on their shoulder stopping them.

“If they wanted to talk to you, they would have approached you, Kody.” They had never heard Huxley’s voice so angry before, the acidic sting bubbling just under the surface of his words.

“Let them speak for themselves.” Kody asserts, ignoring his gaze and keeping eye contact with Freelancer. “We'll just be outside, I only want some privacy, isn't that reasonable?”

“Back off, Kody.” Dear hisses stood with Damien and Lasko behind Huxley now. “Freelancer, you can do what you want but don't feel pressured by his bullshit.”

Kody’s smile becomes strained, “I just want to talk.”

“Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of my friends.” Freelancer asserts.

Kody’s eyes darken. “Fine. I wanted to give you the chance to apologise to me since you ruined my life.”

All five of the group stare at him, mouth agape. Damien is the first to recover. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about the drivel and slander they have been spreading at my expense. I'm banned from private studies and any social event unless my application is screened first. Do you know how insulting that is?”

“That's it?” Dear splutters. “That’s your punishment?!”

“If you were so scared of my power, of what I could do, then you could have run away like everyone else. But instead you had to ruin everything for me.” His eyes flash, all pretence gone now. 

“You need to leave.” Lasko asserts as a breeze begins in the room swaying his hair ominously.

Kody takes a step forwards, eyes not leaving Freelancer, he grabs their wrist and pulls them in close. “If you’re not a coward you’ll leave with me right now. Unless you’re content with dragging down your new friends to the depth of your depravity with you?” 

Instantly four magic users light up, power thrumming in the room all pointed at Kody. The room is in standstill as Kody finally takes his hand off Freelancer. 

“Fine.” He spits, and Freelancer feels a piece of paper being slipped into their hand as he pulls back. “You may be content with mediocrity but I’m not. I worked hard to get where I am, and you’ll come crawling back to kiss my feet once you realise I was right the whole time. Keep an eye on your precious Freelancer for me, never know when they may stab you in the back.”

Freelancer is shaking now, whether from anger or fear they're not sure, but they are sure that all they feel is repulsion as they look at Kody’s face. “Go.” Is all they can get out, and he laughs as he finally turns and leaves.

“Freelancer?” Huxley asks softly. They can feel all their friends' eyes on them and they clench their fist tighter, forcing a more calm expression onto their face.

“Thank you all.” They give each of them a shaky smile. “I think I’m going to go to bed now, it’s late.”

“A-are you sure?” Lasko hovers anxiously around them.

They back away from the group into the common room, game forgotten on the table. “All good, I just want to sleep. Besides, my character wasn’t going to be able to be revived, it was my own fault. Silly really. Goodnight!”

They hurry past to the staircase, missing the uneasy glances shared behind them.

Back in the safety of their bedroom they quickly peel the note out from their sweaty fist, unfolding it with trembling hands.

‘Southern most tower at midnight tonight - if you bring your friends, I’ll make sure you get to watch them suffer. Deal with me now or you’ll never get your chance again.’

A splatter of water hits the page and they panic, thinking somehow he was back and in their room with them. But then another drop hits the page and they raise a hand to their cheek in surprise.

They’re crying.

~

As they lay in bed that night, their mind was transfixed on Kody and his challenge; it was a miracle they got to sleep at all. Hoping for peaceful rest was apparently too much of an ask for whichever omnipotent being was responsible for Freelancer’s dreams.

Thunder rolls overhead as water drowns the illusion of landscape as they stand alone on an island amidst the torrent, ocean spray spitting in their face. The salt and damp clings to their skin in a filthy film they can't scrub off. They open their mouth to scream but water floods their airways, bitter and stinging, before any sound can escape. Freelancer falls to their knees, choking, clutching their throat as their lungs violently spasm, desperate for air.

“Caelum?” The water freezes in place as the voice calls out, surprisingly clear through the crashing waves. “Oh. It is a mess in here.”

Freelancer’s eyes widen as they recognise the voice, making a half strangled noise attempting to call to him.

Gavin appears beside them instantly. “Shit.” He curses under his breath before snapping his fingers and the landscape calming immediately. The sky clears from grey to a warm indigo as Gavin heaves them out the water and an island forms beneath their feet. 

“That's it, you're okay.” He rubs their back gently as they cough up bitter water onto the sand. 

Eventually they roll onto their back, breathless, covering their eyes with their arm. “Thank you.” They manage to wheeze out.

“It was no trouble.” He dismisses, leaning back languidly next to them. “I'm guessing Caelum isn't here with you, or else this would all be a lot more calm and… pink.”

“He said he's had more classes lately because one of his brothers decided he was ‘slacking off’” they quote the young demon in a perfect imitation of his sulking voice. “So, not here.”

A low chuckle reverberates through Gavin, “a pity, I'm sure you've heard his complaints about our classes many a time… But since he isn't here, let's make it my turn to play.” And with another click of his fingers the calm waves settle into a warm magenta. “Much better.”

“How did you do that?” Freelancer watches him, half sat up, eyes alight with curiosity. “Is it the same as regular magic? You did it without speaking either, I thought that was something rare or at least incredibly complex and powerful.”

“Well, that's because I am incredibly complex and powerful.” Gavin smiles coyly leaning in close to them.

Freelancer nods sincerely, “you absolutely are! It’s amazing watching you work.”

“I see why Caelum is your friend.”

“I can be your friend too, you know.” They turn to him amused, “I’m very capable you’ll find.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“And I’ll take that as a yes.”

“How bold.”

“I feel like I should call you a nickname if we're friends now.” They tease. “Do you prefer Ga or Vin?”

His face twitches slightly at 'Vin', but he smoothly covers it with a deadpan expression. “Neither. Surely you can do better than that?”

“You’d be surprised how much I cannot, I'm terrible with names. My old cat was called, well, Cat.”

“...cat?” Gavin gives them a blank look.

“Yes I know it’s a terrible name-” 

“No no, what is that?” He tilts his head curiously.

Freelancer blinks twice. “Do I get to introduce you to cats? Do you not have them in… Aria? Right?”

Gavin finds himself inexplicably charmed by their enthusiasm, and where normally his pride would have stepped in he finds himself being honest. “I would love nothing more than to hear about cats from you.”

“They’re a fluffy animal that has four limbs and a tail and very cute ears. This is so much harder to describe than I thought, if Damien was here he could sketch one for you.”

There’s a small mew from behind the pair and Freelancer gasps elatedly as Cat, their childhood pet, comes padding across the pink sand. 

“Ah those, you are aware they’re called Meows right?”

Freelancer bursts into laughter cradling Cat to their chest. “What?”

“Well we asked unlike you did and that’s what they said.” He grins at their amusement.

Cat lets out another meow as if to prove Gavin’s point, nudging her face against Freelancer’s chin.

They giggle with a shake of their head, scratching behind her ears. “You're silly.” 

“Don't wound my ego too much now.” He pouts, eyes not leaving their face. “...If I may ask, why didn't you stop the nightmare? You can clearly control your dreamscape to some extent.” He nods to Cat purring happily in their arms. 

“I've never done this before.” They look down at Cat, “actually using my magic and not pushing it down is different. And…” they hesitate, “this was a reaction to something that happened. Someone hurt me and when I woke up here I didn't even realise it was a dream. I was a little busy drowning.”

Gavin’s gaze drops to the pink water lapping at the shore. “I won't pry. If they bothered you that much, you'll figure out a way to deal with it without me, they're only one human after all. But whoever it is, I know for a fact they aren't worth your time, Freelancer.”

“How do you know that though? You don't know me or my abilities. I didn't even know I could stop a nightmare with my magic. It feels like I'm always one step behind everyone else and I'll never be able to catch up.” They laugh hollowly, dragging one hand roughly against their face.

Gavin gently takes their hand off their face, holding it in his. “My brother may be naive, but he's not stupid. He has good taste in people. And he sings your praises near constantly. So you come highly recommended. Besides,” he leans close to their ear, “I'm weak for a pretty face.”

Freelancer snorts, sadness temporarily forgotten, pushing him lightly away. Startling a very indignant Cat from their lap. “You must have a hard time looking in the mirror then.”

Gavin's smile softens fleetingly, the predatory look temporarily disarmed. “You're quick.”

“You're surprised.” They note, blushing slightly.

“Surprised doesn't mean bad.” He counters. Their eyes linger on each other as the silence hangs in the charged air, neither willing to move away.

“Gavin.” A red slash appears in the dreamscape in front of them as a new voice joins them and both of their heads snap to face it. “I've lectured Caelum enough on meandering in human minds. I thought you would know better.”

“I was just looking for Caelum actually.” Gavin stands up quickly, gesturing for Freelancer to be quiet. “For someone who wants us to be more covert about handling humans, you did barge in here unannounced.”

“Leave. Now.” The voice’s cold whisper vanishes into the air.

Gavin shoots Freelancer a resigned look with a half hearted wink, “I'll talk to you soon I'm sure. Since we're such good friends now. But when my darling big brother Vega calls, I really should answer.”

With a rush of magic, he's gone, leaving them alone on the quiet beach. Cat is nowhere to be found as Freelancer stands up; watching the pink water fade back, peachy trails in the foam the only remnants of Gavin's presence in the dream. There's a tug at the back of their mind as they recognise that they're waking up.

Sighing they lean back into the sand, watching the sky and allowing the waking world to pull them out of their own mind.

Suddenly a red leash flings out of the darkness and wraps around Freelancer’s throat, snapping them back to awareness within the dream. Grasping frantically at the collar now choking them, they hear the whisper from before directly in their ear. 

“Leave. My siblings. Alone. We have enough to deal with that isn't a pathetic human prancing around the fields of magic like it owns them. Know your place.”

At his final hissing word he drops the rope and the world dissolves into light as Freelancer wakes up in a cold sweat, clutching their throat.

~

Freelancer scrubs the dried tear tracks as best they can as they frantically get dressed. They glance at the elaborate mechanical clock on the bedside table and steel their resolve. Kody was their problem, it was unfair for their friends to be brought into the crossfire. He was only one human afterall, how bad could it be?

They tuck Kody’s note into their pocket and slip out of the shared dormitory and into the hall. 

“Freelancer?” Dear’s weary voice calls out, stopping them in their tracks.

“Prof? Why are you up?” They whisper, desperately searching for an escape.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Dear mumbles through a yawn. “Lasko and I went out and I only just got back.”

They snap their fingers and with a whisper of something, hold up a glowing ball of water, the wavy patterns of light dancing on the walls. 

“Ooh finally a date?” Freelancer teases, blinking as they adjust to the light.

The light grows a little brighter for a moment at the question. “Well, yes actually. We went into the Meridian for some swimming.” They beam, “An official date too. He got me flowers.” They carefully produce a single lily from their pocket.

“Flowers, plural?” They ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yes, he tripped and lost half the bouquet, then got chased by bees and he dropped three while running, and then accidentally bit into the penultimate one whilst we were eating by the lake.” Dear says looking fondly at the lily. 

Dear suddenly looks up, eyes narrowed at Freelancer. “Don't you distract me, now why are you up?” 

“I just needed a walk. Nightmare.” They shrug, waving them away. “You should get some rest or… whatever you plan to do to Lasko.” They tease, stepping back.

Dear catches their wrist before they can escape, examining their expression carefully. Then they sigh and let them go. “Just be safe okay? Don't do anything stupid or I think Damien and I will have to hunt you down.”

“Don't worry. Lasko and Huxley will hold you both back, they love me too much.” Freelancer quickly turns and hurries out the door, cloak slipping through the doorframe as they leave. 

Hurrying as quietly as they can through the halls they creep through the castle, they do their best to swallow down their apprehension the closer they get.

Freelancer? Are you okay? You feel upset.

Caelum’s voice pipes up in their mind but for the first time since they heard him, they ignore him. Vega and Kody’s words ringing in their ears as they block out the voice of their friend, not wanting to drag more innocents into their mess. In their conflict they don’t notice when the sound t is suddenly cut off as they enter the base of the Southern Tower.

~

Hours later, Dear still can’t sleep. Eventually they decide checking on Freelancer would help soothe the late night anxieties and slip out to the common room, careful not to disturb Lasko.

It’s quiet and the fireplace has long since burnt out. They knock tentatively on Freelancer’s door. Nothing. They push the door open as slowly as possible to reveal an empty bed.

Dear turns back to the common room to return to bed, letting the door shut behind them, and resigning themselves to a night worrying about their friend, until they spot a slip of paper on the ground. They pick it up, and their eyes go wide as they recognise Kody’s handwriting.

Without hesitation they sprint up the stairs banging on their friends’ doors. Freelancer was going to do something stupid.

~

Freelancer swallows nervously as they climb the final few stairs, and are faced with a short hallway. No windows; only flickering candlelight to lead them to their final destination. The decrepit door creaks open with a pained moan, dragging itself along the stone floor. 

Inside, the room is bare and dusty. Ragged carpet half heartedly left on the floor surrounded by knick knacks and tchotchkes. It appears empty, until they step in further and the door squeals shut behind them. They spin around to reveal Kody lounging in an exhausted armchair, legs swung over one arm as he stares them down.

“I’m almost surprised you came, Raincloud.” Their jaw clenches at the nickname and he snickers. “But I’m certainly not disappointed. Pride cometh before the fall.”

“Don’t call me that.” They growl, gathering magic at their fingertips.

“Speaking of, when are your precious friends going to join us? The useless, rambling, pathetic bunch, that puppy-eyed their way into being chosen by Tomorrow.” He drawls, looking almost relaxed if it weren't for the sharp glint in his eyes.

“They're not here.” Freelancer glares Kody down, seething, as they enter the tower room. “This fight is ours, Kody, not anyone else’s.”

“Well I'm glad you're naive enough to think so. But that Shade I left in the hall only knew not to hurt your sorry ass… not anyone else who may follow.” He grins wickedly, observing their reaction. “So let’s hope for their sakes you’re correct.”

They recognised the name from their magical creature studies. A Shade: a merciless harbinger of death, cobbled together from bodies stuffed with Meridian soil that leaves them violent and near impossible to kill. Their eyes widen and it hits them how far they let this go, how quickly they’d let arrogance lead them. Even if they somehow defeated Kody, that creature would be loose in the walls of their new home attacking everyone indiscriminately while they slept.

“You idiot what is wrong with you? That could kill everyone in this castle!” They start running towards the door. Focusing like Damien taught them, they mutter a few choice words, firing a shot of flame towards Kody to get him out of their way..

“NO!” Kody shrieks as they run to leave taking the hits to his shoulder, leaping to his feet immediately, dragging water from the ether to send it flying at Freelancer’s head. Unprepared, it hits them just as their fingers brush the doorknob, knocking them to the ground. They feel the water wrap itself around their skull, forcing itself down their throat, flooding their lungs and stomach painfully. They can only struggle helplessly, watching as bubbles of their remaining air float away to the surface.

“You don't get to take this from me.” He hisses, sweat and fury contorting his face through the water. “You don't get to just waltz along from wherever you came from and steal what I deserve! You could have joined me, but you tossed me into the dirt at your feet to stand with people who never had to work a day in their lives. We were all given potential, that’s what she said. But you wouldn’t give me a chance, no one would. So you don't get to leave now, and pretend you're honourable. Like you care or that anyone would bother to come and help you.”

They attempt to protest but choke further, clawing fruitlessly at the water, seeing black spots begin to appear in their vision. Tears mixing into the water thrashing in their lungs. Air, they just need air.

“I was there, you know. The day our great Lady Tomorrow arrived. And I was overlooked. I watched as those three self absorbed brats got called up and given gifts I could only dream of just for speaking out of turn. I had to stand aside as they got worshipped for being the most conveniently placed when I worked so hard every day.” The hysteria reaches its peak as his face splits into a twisted grin. “I won't let it happen again. This will show them, now hold still-”

Suddenly the doors burst open as a sharp and stinging wind barrels in, followed by a furious Lasko.

“Get away from them, you fucking bastard.” He hisses, whipping the wind around to yank Kody backwards into a wall. There's a painful crunch as his back meets stone and his head whips back at the impact.

“Did you get him, Lasko?” Huxley’s voice follows as he arrives, leaning on Damien, what's left of his left arm wrapped tightly in some of Damien’s ripped shirt. “Where’s Freelancer, they're okay? Right?”

Lasko nods, not taking his eyes off Kody. “I got him, but someone needs to check on Freelancer. Help me tie him up.” He moves with purpose and efficiency, dragging Kody into a sitting position as he and Damien bind his hands behind his back with conjured vines..

“Freelancer oh gods.” Dear cries rushing over from behind the boys to where their friend lay dazed against the floor, weakly coughing and spluttering.

With a deep breath Dear carefully calls out all the water still trapped within their friend’s lungs with a murmured spell. “There, I've got you.” They coo softly, “you're safe. Just breathe for me.”

With a half mangled sob, Freelancer clings to Dear, shuddering but still weakly attempting to stand.

“You are injured, Freelancer, stop it.” Damien snaps, the sharpness a poor mask for his concern. “Please.” 

“Fine.” They rasp, their voice straining to even whisper. “Only if you insist.” They slump into Dear’s grasp.

“Idiot.” Damien grumbles rubbing his temple. “As for you.” His glare hardens as it turns to Kody.

Kody gathers up all the blood and saliva in his mouth, spitting it at their feet. “You know when someone leaves a Shade loose outside, he normally doesn't want to be disturbed.” He looks pointedly at Huxley’s injury, before adjusting his tied hands as much as the rope will allow. “Like leaving a tie on the door.”

“Shut up, Kody.” Huxley says through gritted teeth, grip on the bloody remains of his arm tightening.

Lasko steps forward, gaze icy. “You want Tomorrow’s attention so bad? We’ll make sure you see her and she will deal with you. Properly this time.”

“Ooh where's the stutter gone L-L-L-Lasko?” Kody mocks from the floor, shuffling his hands awkwardly behind his back again. 

Freelancer tries to sit up, swaying slightly. “Wait, sp-” they cough weakly, trying to speak but their mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton. “Wa… waf…”

“Freelancer please just stop.” Dear murmurs, petting their hair gently. “It's okay, we got you.”

They shake their head drunkenly, attempting to lift their arm, succeeding only in flopping it limply in Kody’s direction. “Wwwa-”

“What are they trying to say?” Huxley tilts his head to the side. “Are they hungry?”

“Why would they be hungry?” Damien blinks, looking over at his boyfriend.

“Sounds like they're trying to say waffles.” Huxley shrugs. “And like injuries and stuff take a lot of energy out of you dude, you gotta get fuel you know?”

Freelancer nods furiously, frantically reaching for Huxley and slipping from Dear’s grasp.

Damien drops to the stone floor to catch them, “He was right? You seriously want waffles right now?” He asks in disbelief.

Lasko freezes. “Waffles?” 

He looks over at Freelancer, noticing how their eyes are drooping, and catching a small flash of light from behind Kody’s back. Just as a small drop of blood snakes out of Freelancer’s mouth he grabs Kody and slams him back into the ground. 

A low delirious groan rises from the floor between them as Kody drops his head back dropping his concentration, the slow growing magic cutting off with a twanging snap. Blood staining his lips and teeth as it trickles from his nose. “You idiots. You fucking idiots. You cut me off. Now they're definitely dead.”

“What did you do?” Dear finally stands up, eyes cold like no one had seen before. With a flick of the wrist an icicle appears in their hand, a cruelly sharp tip held to his throat. 

“Waste my time apparently.” He spits, wincing as Lasko grips his hair tighter. “If you'd have left well alone they would have been fine… eventually. I would have woken them up no problem. But no. Your merry band of fools had to parade in and save the day.”

“How were you even casting a spell you weren't speaking?!” Damien splutters while Huxley cradles Freelancer’s now frighteningly still body, brushing sodden hair from their eyes, careful to keep blood from getting on them.

Kody beams sarcastically, “I wouldn't expect you to be able to understand. Some of us have to actually work at things rather than it being handed to us on a plate.”

Dear presses the icicle closer into his neck, a trickle of blood dribbling down the spike. “Why were you trying to kill them? Tell us and I won't shove this through your mouth so that you’ll never be able to move that bastard tongue of yours again.”

“You really know how to pick the violent sort Lasko, though I suppose you need someone to babysit you through your own pathetic incompeten-” he chokes a little as Dear pushes it in deeper.

“Try me.” They warn.

His arrogance finally begins to crack. “Fine, because I was going to save them. To prove to them and this backwards school that I was worth something. I didn't want them to actually die. And it was going to help them too, they'd be the talk of the town and I know how much they love attention.” 

“You arrogant, stuck up asshole. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Damien’s skin begins to glow as he heats up.

“Guys we need to go now, Huxley and Freelancer need a Healer.” Lasko cuts in, ignoring Kody at his feet, clutching his rope tightly..

Dear turns to see Freelancer unmoving in Huxley’s lap with Huxley’s blood blooming across the shirt hastily wrapped over what was left of his arm, his face losing blood by the minute. They pull back, dismissing the ice with a small murmur and hoping no one sees their shaking hands.

“Let's go.” Damien takes Freelancer's limp form from Huxley’s arms, cradling them against his chest with a small grunt. 

Lasko ducks under Huxley’s arm and pats his back as the two start making their way down the stairs, stepping past the ashes left of Kody’s summoned beast. Dear yanks Kody up with far less ceremony; keeping a tight grip on his rope as they push him down the stairs, taking great joy whenever he bumps a little too hard against the wall.

~

“Gavin? Gavin!” Caelum’s wails interrupt the older daemon’s studying.

“What is it?” Gavin grumbles, looking up from his book reluctantly. However, all weariness vanishes, at the fear in Caelum’s eyes.

“It’s Freelancer! I c-can’t hear them anymore, they were ignoring me and now something is blocking them. They’ve never done this before! I tried saying hi for ages and ages and ages but they’ve just dis-disapp- gone.”

Gavin immediately gathers him into his arms holding him close. “Talk me through what you last heard, I’m sure they’re okay.” He soothes, doing his best not to let the worry slip into his voice.

“I w-woke up to them screaming in my head. It was so loud. Water everywhere but they were awake this time.” He looks up desperately, eyes watering. “They wanted your help so badly.”

He swallows, petting Caelum’s hair. “I'll find them, I'm sure they're okay.” He steadies his hand as best he can. “They’ll be okay.”

~

Once assured that Freelancer and Huxley are settled in the infirmary and Kody under careful watch - Lasko and Dear cannot stop Damien from storming up to Tomorrow’s tower.

There, to no surprise, he finds Tomorrow tinkering with a selection of cogs and bouncing around her laboratory seemingly incomprehensibly. 

“Ah, Damien, perfect timing. Stand still.” She holds up the contraption to his chest oblivious to his rage, tilting it to the right, before tutting and dropping it back on the table. “Too big, too clunky. Like thicker water, we need flow.” She mutters to herself.

“You fucked up. Again. Something terrible has happened under your watch and I can't tell if you're being oblivious or if something is wrong-”

“Don't raise your voice, Damien, be clear instead of just complaining. Don't make me guess.” Tomorrow cuts off his outburst with a patronising look.

Damien grits his teeth and forces a slow breath. “One of your students is in a magical coma and the other one lost an arm. Huxley and Freelancer are in the infirmary because the guy you neglected to deal with a few months ago went on a rampage! He summoned a shade!”

“That's quite unfortunate, I’m assuming from your state the thing is dead. And as for his victims I'm sure they'll be healed in no time. Oh! And I can get Huxley a lovely new prosthetic I've been working on! He’ll like it - we can match, it's very green, and blends well with his magical signature.” She nods to herself, the problem solved, and returns to her work.

“That's not enough! Kody shouldn't be allowed to just assault other students and summon beasts from the Meridian Forest to let loose while people are asleep. And what about Freelancer? You’ve failed them twice now and I refuse to let you do it again, I won’t leave them again.” Damien's voice begins to rise again despite his best efforts, pacing the floor in front of her.

“Damien there are things going on right now that you do not understand. I'm sure your little friend and Huxley will be fine, but I have more important things to work on than worrying about them.” Damien fails to notice the clench in her jaw even as she continues to work, her grip on a screwdriver cracking the wood.

“You have to help! This is some weird warping of a collection of spells and none of us are powerful enough to untangle each one. We don’t even know if we will be able to live long enough to help, we couldn’t even dream of solving this in our lifetimes. Kody could barely make the starting threads, forget untangling this matted knot of magic. You’re the only one who’s dealt with spells and lived long enough to even have a chance. God I wish you would actually listen and help us for once-”

“Enough, Damien.” Tomorrow dismisses with a wave of her hand, continuing her set path round her lab. “I don’t have time for this.”

Determined, he continues after her, pleading. “Well you should - they’re innocent! You said it yourself, they have potential!”

“And regrettably that potential is finished with. Blame Kody, not me.” She doesn’t look up, sorting through a pile of parchment and picking up a letter.

“But you are a Sister! Not just that, but the Sister of tomorrow. An immortal herald of the future and hope-” 

“I am not omnipotent, Damien!” She slams the letter down, glass vials trembling on the table. “I mistook you for a scholar, that was my mistake. Clearly you and the rest of my students are incapable of seeing the bigger picture or growing up.” Damien flinches, backing away, as his mentor looms over him. “Fine! Have your damn wish. All of you shall be bound to Freelancer until they can awaken. You will all be preserved alongside them and can wait until I'm ready and able to help. You, my pets, get to look after them until then and can enjoy the immortal lives you’re so desperate for. Now get out of my sight - and be fucking grateful!”

Eyes stinging, he turns and runs from the room, knocking everything off the counters he encounters as he does. 

As soon as he's gone she falls to the ground; an unholy screech echoing through the tower after him, and she pounds the stone floor until her knuckles split.

“I won't let this world take you from me. I won't get distracted by humanity.” She sobs picking up and cradling the letter close, bronze liquid leaking from her knuckles mixing with the tears already staining the page. “There's no time, never enough.” The choked whispers catch in her throat, feeling like the world is closing in around her.

~

The door slams behind Damien as he scrambles through hallways searching for his family; chest burning as he runs.

He bursts into Freelancer’s room, rushing to close the door behind him, flushed. Huxley stands up immediately leaving Dear scrambling to pick up the remaining bandages from rewrapping his shoulder.

“Dames? What happened?” He cups his cheek, searching his face for any injuries. “Baby, you're burning up.”

“I'm fine.” Damien brushes him off, “you need to let Dear finish your dressings, and then we need to move.”

Dear pauses mid gathering of Huxley’s bandages. “Move? Why?” 

Lasko’s eyes dart around the group, still cradling Freelancer’s limp hand. “W-what happened with Lady Tomorrow? I thought- I thought she w-w-was going to help Freelancer?”

“So did I.” Damien grimaces. “But we’re on our own for this one.”

“Seriously? She isn’t going to help?” Dear crosses their arms disbelieving. 

Lasko chuckles weakly. “T-t-that’s not a funny joke. She always helps! She- she steps up a-a-and-” His sentence is cut off by an odd squeak. He taps his chest, blinking almost dazed before continuing. “...She’s got to help. We can’t fix this.”

The words hang in the air, painfully heavy. The silence is only broken by Freelancer’s soft breathing, too peaceful for the fear currently choking the room.

“We have to get them somewhere safe, away from Kody. Tomorrow she-” He considers the consequences of repeating their mentor’s words. “-She said we can stay with them, and we’ll be kept safe until they can be freed.”

“So she’s like, working on a solution?” Huxley’s tense shoulders drop just a little. “That’s good then, I’m happy to help look after them until then.”

“Lasko and I found a castle in the Meridian forest, just past the lake above Solaire territory. Kinda close to that guy who lives on his own.” Dear pipes up, the cogs already spinning in their brain. 

Huxley tilts his head, “When did you and Lasko go to the Meridian?” 

“We um w-we were just uh-” Lasko’s cheeks flush brighter with every word. “E-exploring! Yes yes yes we were- we wanted to take a look for r-raw magic. Not that we did anything r-raw-”

He’s relieved when Dear cuts him off with a steady hand on his shoulder. “Same reason you and Damien needed the dorm to yourselves last week.” They smile sweetly, winking at Huxley. Both burst into laughter while the two boys splutter beside them.

“Well whatever, this castle sounds good. Let’s move.” Damien recovers first. “All I know is that time is of the utmost importance.” He winces at the memory of Tomorrow, but pushes it down - planning the journey would be easier to deal with. 

~

The Meridian forest was a few days away by horseback at least - fortunately, these were the four most powerful students in the whole of DAMN. Hulking ice horses galloped at full pace with wind beneath their feet, pulling a worn but sturdy plant carriage through cobbled streets, towards the castle.

All of them could tell something was wrong. Damien’s temperature wouldn't go away and Lasko’s stammers were interjected with squeaks that left his throat aching. Dear nearly gave the group a heart attack when they bit their lip and shredded it with ease, leaving blood dripping down their face. Huxley never complained of anything, but would often shiver and scratch at the crown of his head. 

Damien still couldn't confess that this was their teacher’s doing. He knew that the hope of her aid was the only motivation keeping them heading towards the castle.

‘If I could just cool down, maybe I could think clearer’, he sighs miserably, pressing his face against the glass window of the carriage.

“We're nearly there.” Huxley calls out from the front of the carriage. 

Lasko gently taps Dear from where they're nestled, asleep, soft snores blowing across his neck. “We're nearly there Dear.” He murmurs.

They make a small chirping sound, nuzzling closer into his neck, holding onto his hand tightly in their sleep. They rouse slowly, blinking in the soft light of the sinking sun filtering through the window.

“Y-your eyes!” Lasko gasps, cupping their face. “What happened to them?!”

Their entire eye was now a dark brown, spilling out from their pupil, colouring their iris and sclera. “What's wrong with them, sweets?” When he doesn't reply they grasp his hands, quivering. “Lasko?”

“It's okay, i-it'll be okay.” Lasko soothes, pulling their head to his chest. “Tomorrow will sort this out, she always does.” 

Dear nods wordlessly, burrowing into his chest as they pull up to the abandoned castle.

The structure is old, but not decrepit. The air around it tasted stale and still, doors locked as if someone would be home at any minute. Ivy and other flora snaked up the stone walls, wrapped around its sides comfortably. Where the DAMN School castle was tall and spindly reaching for the skies above, this castle is boxy and far more humble.

Dear and Damien heave the doors open to make way for Lasko and Huxley. Lasko shouldering all the gear they had brought, and Huxley cradling Freelancer close to his chest, moving carefully so as not to jostle them too much.

“You know if you two wanted to hook up, you didn't have to travel all the way out here to do it.” Damien grumbles as he waves away the dust in the air.

Dear chuckles as Lasko turns bright pink. “W-w-well we were already out- all the way out here looking for ingredients.”

“Besides, a mystery castle was much more interesting.” Dear slips their arm through Lasko’s.

“You could’ve at least used a tent or something dudes.” Huxley’s smile is strained as he glances down at his limp friend in Damien’s arms. Dear feels their heart twist at the sight, wishing they'd been able to catch Freelancer quicker. 

“I just wish it was lighter in here.” Lasko complains.

Huxley looks perplexed, “I can see just fine?”

A small woosh of igniting flames behind them draws the group’s attention as Damien lifts up a newly lit lantern. “I can barely see Hux, so I don't know what you're talking about. It was basically sundown when we got here.”

Huxley shrugs, brushing the observation off. “Which way then, you guys?”

“There's a bedroom in the west wing, it should be the most comfortable.” Dear swallows, pressing forwards to lead the way, turning just fast enough that their friends miss the uncanny way their eyes reflect the light.

Opening the door to this bedroom was no trouble, Lasko ignores how much Freelancer would have loved the embroidery on the curtains. 

Dear clears the dust off the bed as best they can, stepping back and giving Damien space to lay Freelancer down comfortably. After he does, Damien wafts as much air from his face as he can coughing into his hand.

But he doesn't stop coughing. Instead, the coughs get stronger, wracking his whole body. With horror he feels something wet drip into his palms, and looks down to see a mix of what seems to be oil and blood.

“Dames?” His boyfriend’s voice sounds distant as he stumbles to the ground and curls up in a tight ball with a moan. As he falls his friends rush to his side, and he thinks dully for a minute if this is how Freelancer felt all those days ago. 

“His back.” He hears Lasko whisper horrified, “what's hAPpening to it.” The sentence is disjointed as another squeak cuts through his words.

The trio watch as Damien’s back seems to ripple, tiny pin pricks piercing up through the skin. He lets out another low groan, curling in tighter and seeming to shrink almost. He reaches out a now clawed and scaly hand to Huxley, desperate for some kind of connection to his love, when he spasms and his skin shreds as thousands of shimmering gold feathers break free from his, stained red with his blood. 

“DAMIEN!” Huxley’s voice cracks as he pulls Damien to his as best he can, ignoring how it pulls at his new bandages. But the clothes he grabs are almost empty, with only a small lump inside. “Please no.” He begs, tears mixing with his partner's blood on his hand.

There's a weak chirp from Damien’s shirt, and a brightly plumed bird peaks its head out the sleeve. Shaking itself off, it crawls into Huxley’s lap, feebly curling up.

“Dames?” The hushed tone betrays his aching hope.

The bird gives another small sound, doing its best impression of a nod. 

“D-D-Damien’s a phoenix? What the hell is happen-ING.” Lasko takes a step closer to investigate before stumbling too. 

Dear catches him, tears streaming down their face, they clumsily try to support him even as their own body starts to give out. “I don't think it's just Damien.” Their words come out thickly, as they spit several teeth onto the floor next to them, mouth awkwardly adjusting around new fangs forcing their way through their gums.

“We need… Tomorrow.” Huxley feels the itching come back, his hand swollen and clumsy.

Lasko’s scream pierces the air; Dear and Huxley recoiling from the sound. Lasko feels the skin on his arm sloughing and stretching to connect with his knee, and turns to the side to vomit. 

Dear watches nails split through their fingertips into claws, as fur forces its way out of their arms spreading fast. They desperately call to what little magic is left to them, before it sparks out and they collapse next to Lasko twitching.

The quiet that follows is more terrifying than the screams. Eventually the clothes begin stirring and two paws scrabble out of Dear’s clothes, an otter emerges and begins frantically digging through Lasko’s clothes to pull the shivering squirrel from his shirt. The two pull each other into a desperate embrace. Broken squeaks tumbling out as Dear clumsily pats the squirrel’s face, tears falling down their new fluffy cheeks. Lasko stretches up, nuzzling against their face, chittering brokenly as he tries to comfort them.

Once certain the other was unharmed, the two bounce over to Damien and Huxley. Lasko tentatively holds out a hand to the Phoenix

Trembling, Huxley scratches at his skin trying to hold himself together; hissing as he carves deep welts with new claws.

Delicately the phoenix reaches into Huxley’s pocket, pulling out a perfect, bronze daisy, and nudges it into his hand. Huxley sniffs, wiping away a tear with a laugh. “Always looking out for me huh, babe?” He brushes a finger as delicately as he can down his beak, a low chirp leaving Damien as he does. 

With a trembling hand he lifts the daisy and blows on it gently, his own green magic reaching out and intertwining with the bronze light flowing inside. The two combine and slowly dissolve into the night sky. He watches them go with a final shudder, groaning as he falls forward. The low sound in his throat breaks out into a roar as he finally shifts into a hulking bear. He stumbles at first, adjusting awkwardly to manoeuvring on three limbs. But then a soft wing brushes over his back and two pairs of small paws pat him gently, helping support him until he finds his footing. Huxley gives them a small hoarse grunt of thanks, moving very delicately around his now tiny companions.

The four of them gather for a moment, meticulously checking on each other as best they can in their new forms. Tongues shift uncomfortably around unfamiliar teeth and gums, spines ache at the forced new positions, and ears flattening at unfamiliar, overwhelming sounds.

The quiet is disturbed by a tearing as bronze light carves through mid air, answering the call of the now wilted daisy on the floor. As the last vestiges of magic leave the shrivelled plant there's an appreciative hum of “Ah it works, perfect.”

However, as Tomorrow steps through her portal fully and looks up, she tenses when she sees the group of animals gathered at the rotting bedside of Freelancer. 

“This was my fault.” She would always recognise her students, and her curses. It had been so long since she had lost control like this. And her precious students had paid the price.

Tomorrow kneels down carefully in front of the still twitching bear; who pushes his friends behind himself, shaking, doing his best to protect them from her. 

“I’m sorry, little one.” She blinks back tears, running a hand over his round ears as he stands between her and his friends. A growl escapes him as she moves to reach for the others and she withdraws her hand reluctantly. “But maybe this is for the best. You'll all be safe until I can fix things… I cannot face losing anything else.”

With a heavy heart she stands, and drags a finger through the air beside her; a bronze glow gathering on her nail, splitting the seams of reality.

“You’re strong, all of you. You can handle it. I will come back” She whispers. And then Tomorrow is gone.

And those are the last words the four of them heard, for a very long time.