Chapter Text
Philza smiled as he flew across the canyons. His ever-faithful murder of crows trailed behind him.
“It’s to keep you safe, dear,” Kristin had explained during their annual date night. “You’re my phoenix, it’s going to make you unsafe and the crows are my way of watching you.”
Now, Phil knew that going towards human encampments might endanger him, but it would be fine.
Probably.
A rustle in the canopy below him draws his attention.
Then he hears the sounds of a man screaming in pain.
Phil might be the type of person to kill, but he can at least see what’s going on.
The crows behind Phil squawk happily as he soars down to the ground. Phil stalks toward where he’d heard the sound.
He knows that Kristin doesn’t like him interacting with the humans, especially with how often there are hunters. He knows how to defend himself, besides if Chat lets a human close, Kristin will have their feathers.
Phil hums as he looks around curiously, he’s spent a long time alive. He can’t remember the last time he’d had to be reborn, but Chat had not been happy.
Neither had Kristin, but Phil was perfectly content to wait until his ashes were gathered at the base of Kristin’s favorite flower. He was like the waves of the ocean.
Chill with whatever came his way.
Unless it was a net.
Phil yelps as he’s pressed harshly against the grass of the forest floor under the weight of a heavy net. “This one looks different than the other two.” Someone comments from behind him. It sounds like someone from Essempi, or maybe from the Federation lands.
The accents were different, but Phil hadn’t been exposed to the accents very often so he couldn’t say for sure.
“Yeah, spose it’s one of them fire birds?” The companion says, voice dripping with a Federation accent. Maybe their companion was Essempi and they were Federation.
Phil didn’t know nor care, he just wanted out of the net.
He hisses, thrashing against the ropes as Chat begins to fly off to tattle to Kristin.
“Nah, it’d have set the ropes on fire, moron, use your brain,” Phil hears a smack ring across the area. It was quiet.
Too quiet.
“It’ll make a fine addition to the exhibit. If only the two would settle down a bit,” the Essempi person states coldly as they gather Phil’s thrashing body up.
Phil makes every noise and threat he can, but it doesn’t seem to faze the two. He decides to conserve his energy for later.
Who were these other two birds that the idiotic humans kept mentioning?
Bird hybrids? Like him?
Philza perks up.
He hasn’t seen another avian in years, Kristin had told him the species was beginning to go extinct. Or, apparently, kept away for rich people to gawk at.
Surprise, surprise.
“Glad it finally settled, thought we were gonna have to dart it for a minute,” the Federation person huffs.
“They settle eventually, helps that the sun’s setting. Dumb birds just go right to sleep as soon as the sun’s out.” Phil rolls his eyes.
He does not have a bedtime like a nestling. He can stay up as late as he wants.
Sure, he does get more tired when the sun sets and the moon rises, but he can stay up if he wants to. He doesn’t usually because it’s so tiring to stay awake after moonrise but he can.
Phil’s incredibly insulted that they think it was so easy as to just throw a bag over an avian’s head and cart them off to wherever.
It’s a long walk, the two dragging Phil to wherever it was throughout the night. Phil manages to remain awake so he knows how to get away when he gets to that point, and he also thinks he managed to spot Brian flying after him.
Kristin knows where he is, and push comes to shove, she’ll just have to have Chat collect his ash piles again.
They enter a large courtyard and he stares at the gates that swing open. Intricately woven metal that looks like gold hangs from the gate that the guards are pushing open. The walls are made of some kind of marble or maybe quartz.
The house (more like castle) is built out of regular stone, but it doesn’t look the same as other keeps he’s seen. Something about the stone is different, changed in a way he doesn’t know.
“Mistress wants to see ‘im before you put ‘im with the other two. Make sure they like him and whatnot.” One of the guards says, leveling Phil with an oddly familiar hazel gaze.
Phil is harshly yanked out of the net’s grasp and grabbed by the two guards that had accompanied him here. Something in the hazel-eyes guard’s eyes said “Hang on, I’ll get you out.”
But Phil could not, for the life of him, remember who the other was.
He’s dragged down twisting and turning hallways until he comes to a cell. He’s tossed in harshly and he lands roughly on his hands.
The door slams shut loudly behind him and he winces as the sound reverberates in his ears. He doesn’t see any windows and the room is cold, now that he’s beginning to settle down and his body is no longer on high alert.
Cold, smelly, and really dark.
Three things that Phil hates. However, he’ll be fine.
Kristin never left him in places like this for long. He did feel slightly bad for inconveniencing her like this, but he didn’t have much. She never had the time to teach him to defend himself, and he couldn’t stay in one place for too long unless phoenix hunters heard and decided they wanted him to themselves.
He sighs as he feels the familiar wave of uselessness flows through him. Wouldn’t it be nice to, just for once, be able to take care of himself? Not have to disrupt Kristin’s work so she can come save him.
Sounds like an impossible thing.
He lays a hand against a wall and slams his forehead against the stone bricks. The small flare of pain was nothing compared to the overwhelming tide of–
“Hello?” A voice calls from outside. He swings his head around to stare at the thick door.
“Hello?” He calls back.
“Techno, there’s someone in there! Is that the one that Frank and John were talking about?” The voice that had first called out to him rings oddly clear through the wooden door.
Almost as if there was a hole somewhere. Phil looks around curiously.
There has to be a hole somewhere for him to hear them so clearly. He is looking at a suspiciously shaped object when suddenly a hand extends through it.
Phil yelps and falls backward, landing on the tips of his feathers. He winces as he stands back up and touches the hand.
“Hello?” He asks again. “Who are you?”
“Techno, Techno! He’s got wings!” The hand pulls itself back to wherever it came from after somehow managing to brush against one of Phil’s wings.
He hadn’t realized how close to his body his wings were until the small hand was brushing against his feathers.
“Like us?” A small voice whispers.
“Like us!” The first voice excitedly reaches back through the hole, however, the child whines when the small fingers don’t brush against his feathers.
“Hello, little ones,” he croons, letting his wing brush against the small fingers.
“Hello, mister!” The small hand’s owner responds. “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Phil, little one.” He doesn’t know whether the children are magical or not, and he would rather not find out the hard way.
He doesn’t need to give Kristin even more reasons to just abandon him here.
“I’m Wilbur! And my brother is Techno!” The small hand pulls back, but is soon replaced by another, similar-sized hand.
“Hi,” the child responds.
“Hello,” he echoes. He doesn’t know what to do now. They probably don’t have a flock, based on their reactions to him, and Phil can’t really see very far outside the hole due to the limited light that was streaming from the cracks high on the wall.
“Mistress and Master are coming to meet you soon, but we wanted to meet you first. Don’t say nothing unless they ask you to speak, mister Phil! That’s like rule number one,” the first voice- Wilbur, is much louder than the small timid one that was currently feeling Phil’s feathers.
From experience, Phil knows his feathers are constantly warm, and a lot like a thick blanket on a chilly evening after the body heat has warmed the inside of the blanket up.
Kristin had been kind enough to allow him to feel his feathers’ temperature from another person’s perspective once directly after his second rebirth.
He still sometimes couldn’t believe he was married to a literal goddess who loved him.
“And don’t look them in the eye,” Techno adds, “they don’t like our eyes, so they probably wouldn’t like yours either.”
Phil frowns.
Usually, avians, or bird hybrids depending on what country you reside in, had the same colored eyes as a human. Only a few, like Phil, had a slight glow to their eyes.
Phil’s was because he was a phoenix, his wings being fiery colors weren’t enough, so his eyes had a bright glow as well.
Kristin adored that fact, Phil thought it was a bit annoying, but for his wife, he wouldn’t complain about it.
“Yeah!” Wilbur comments, and Phil imagines the child nodding his head, but Phil can’t see the kid to confirm his allegation. “And don’t ask for food or water! They’ll just take it away and we can’t get water in the hole for you, sorry.”
“Wilbur, they’re coming!” Techno warns and the hand pulls away.
“Bye, mister Phil!” The two say in sync before the sound of small footsteps running away is heard. Phil’s frown deepens, but he takes a breath to steady himself.
Alright, he can do this.
The door opens and Phil steps back from the wall to see who was entering.
A man and a woman in silk clothes of neutral colors enter, two guards standing behind them. Phil resists the urge to hiss at them.
“Hello, bird,” the woman says, her lips lifting into a sneer. Her green eyes reminded Phil of that one snake hybrid he’d met in Federation territory. Thin and looking for any reason to tear him apart. “Your wings are gorgeous. Dear, isn’t it perfect for the ball?” The woman turns to her spouse, who had been looking Phil up and down.
“Indeed, Martha, indeed.”
The man was a big pushover. Any man that has pursed lips all the time has to be.
Maybe that was a bit stereotypical, but Phil had met far too many men with similar features to say any differently.
“Guards, let’s take it to its new home,” the woman says, snapping her fingers. The guards move in to take him and Phil begins to back away from them.
He wanted to stall being dragged somewhere new as long as possible. What if Techno and Wilbur came back and Phil wasn’t there anymore? How would he see them again?
“Don’t be afraid, Philza, we won’t let them hurt you,” one of the guards whispers. Phil snaps his gaze to see familiar green eyes. He looked to the other guard who was following the green-eyed guard to see dark brown eyes.
Phil was so startled by his name that the guards managed to grab his arms. He thrashed once, but was stopped by a harsh glare from the blonde woman.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” the woman coos darkly as Phil’s dragged past her. Thankfully, the guards aren’t actually dragging him, more like guiding him. “Grab the twins and give them to it. I think they’ll get along.”
The guards holding him nod, not bothering to look back at the woman as they wind through hallways and rooms. The woman and the man split off somewhere behind them and Phil looks around the massive ballroom that he’s been led to.
“I’m sorry, Phil, just a bit longer. We’ll get you out of here,” the brown-eyed guard says, his eyes staring into Phil like an axe in a lumberjack’s hand goes into a tree. Hard and determined. A promise to follow through until the deed is done.
“I don’t know who you are,” he whispers.
“We know,” the green-eyed guard replies when the brown-eyed one makes a sad sound. “But we know you. Bagi’s bringing you two boys, they’ll be all over you and they’ll adore you. Beware, though, Phil, they won’t let you go.”
Phil tilts his head in confusion.
“What do you mean–” The door opens as the door to the cage slips shut. Phil hadn’t even noticed that he was put into a sleek, iron cage until the door clicked shut. Phil grabs the bars as the guards back away.
“You were quite right, Ben, the iron cage does suit it better,” the woman looks Phil up and down, examining his fiery wings. “The gold hair suits it as well. Are the twins on their way?”
The green-eyed guard nods. “Indeed, Mistress.”
“Good! They can share that cage, correct?” The guards both nod. “Excellent! Our ball will surely be the talk of the decade! Not one, not two, but three rare hybrids? We’ll surely beat that stupid elephant that Duchess Trell had at her ball. It wasn’t even nice!”
The woman continues to rant about the elephant and Phil just sighs, going back to sit against the wall of the cage. He entertains himself by studying the mannerisms of the people who walk in and out of the room while the woman rants about her every issue with Duchess Trell.
It wasn’t a familiar name to Phil, but alas, what does he care?
The door opens and a female guard, with glowing green eyes walks in. The glow was subtle, and unless you knew what you were looking for, you wouldn’t easily spot it.
Behind her are two children, the first one, is a brown-eyed brunette with a few pink streaks in his hair, with dark blue wings speckled by dots of gold like stars in a night sky. The second is also a brown-eyed boy, but with pink hair with streaks of brown, with dark red -almost black- wings with light pink spots dotted across his wings.
If Phil hadn’t overheard the fact that they’re twins, he would’ve assumed so with how similarly they look to one another. They perk up when they see Phil and tug on the guard’s hand to move faster.
“Ah! The twins! Put them in with the gold one, guard, and we’ll feed them later.” The woman waves her hand in the direction of Phil before returning to her discussion with her husband about the dukes and duchesses they needed to invite to show off their new assets.
As though they were new paintings that were hung on the wall.
The cage door opens and Phil sees the twins walk in without hesitation, practiced with an ease that could only come from having done this many times before. They immediately come up to him and wrap their arms around his legs.
His wings subconsciously cover them from sight as he coos softly down at them.
“Alright, they’re settled, let’s go finish preparations for the ball, dear,” the woman grabs her husband’s arm and leads him out of the ballroom. The guards also leave, and only the female guard stays to guard the door.
The guard gives him an apologetic look as Phil examines the room.
“Mister Phil!” The brunette calls as soon as the woman and her spouse are gone, “Your wings are so pretty!”
“So are yours, little one,” Phil coos. “Both of your wings are beautiful.”
Phil lays a hand on their heads, pulling them against him. They move so that they can attach themselves to his side. He warbles sadly when he sees that the boys’ wings aren’t preened.
“Where is your flock, little ones?”
“Right here!” The brunette, who Phil thinks is Wilbur, exclaims, burrowing into the crook of Phil’s neck.
“Your brother?” Phil asks, “is that all you have, mate?”
Flocks were usually larger, or they used to be.
Phil doesn’t remember much of his flock. He’d been kicked out of it at a young age. Old enough to care for himself, young enough to still need guidance in life.
Maybe that was why Kristin had loved him.
A twenty-year-old man who was still somewhat childish because he’d never had the opportunity to understand what it meant to be a teenager, having gone from young child to adult with little transition. He swore to never leave her side, and in return, she’d given him her blessing and a ring to exchange with her on a wedding day in the middle of summer.
He may have had years to change, but he knows he hasn’t changed much. He hasn’t been around enough people to have friends, so he’s spent a long time with Chat.
They weren’t the best company.
“And you now!” The brunette says, his hands tightening on Phil’s shirt. Phil doesn’t have the heart to tell the kid no.
Even if he did, there was no way his instincts were going to let him.
He barely hears Wilbur whisper for Techno to do something before he hears two similar peeps of distress. Phil never stood a chance against his instincts.
He croons reassuringly to the nestlings and wraps his wings around them so none can see inside. So that no one could see how vulnerable his nestlings were.
“Nestlings-good-love-my-nestlings,” he warbles, pulling the nestlings against him.
“Got him,” Wilbur coos.
“You were right,” Techno replies, curling further into Phil’s embrace. Phil trills happily as he begins to preen through the nestlings’ wings. He starts with Wilbur, the nestling excitedly turning around when Phil tells him to.
Techno watches curiously.
Phil coos as Wilbur begins to melt into a small puddle of adorable nestling instincts. He finishes preening Wilbur’s wings, frowning at the large pile of dead feathers before turning to Techno. Techno shakes his head.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t want to be… that.” Techno gestures to his brother who is limply trilling in Phil’s lap, Phil having moved him from his side to his lap to keep the sleepy nestling safe.
“Nestling-need-preen,” Phil insists. Techno shakes his head again and Phil hisses. “Nestling-obey-now.” Techno freezes and Phil gives him a reassuring croon. He’d forgotten that nestlings were very sensitive.
Probably since he hasn’t seen one since he was a nestling himself.
“Fine, whatever,” Techno huffs, turning so that Phil can better reach the nestling’s wings. Phil trills jovially at his now obedient nestling. Phil happily preens the dark wings. When he’s finished, the rebellious nestling is a similar pile of instincts to his brother.
Phil holds them both in his lap easily, not moving for a long time, happy to coo over them and gently scratch their heads for a few hours.
“Meal time,” an unfamiliar voice says from outside the safety of his wings. Phil, having mostly gotten over his initial rise of instincts, manages not to hiss at the guard.
“Thank you,” he says tentatively, watching the guard set it in his cage before leaving, a man who sounded familiar, but Phil couldn’t place. The man leaves, Phil having noticed nothing about the man, what with all the armor that covered him.
Whatever manners Phil still manages to keep, the twins have none. They hiss “Intruder-go-away-intruder” at the guard until he’s gone, their wings stretched as far as they could manage to look as big as possible.
“So adorable,” he coos as he scoots over to grab the food. The twins refuse to leave his lap, demanding that it be their new nest. He rolls his eyes fondly, managing to grab the food.
He’d thought the twins were about ten, but they would have better control of their instincts if they were, right?
So they must be younger.
His instincts are telling him that he has to help feed his vulnerable nestlings, but they seem old enough to feed themselves. He’d hate to embarrass them because his instincts were demanding something that they didn’t want.
“Here you go, nestlings,” he sets a sandwich on each of their laps. They look back up at him and then down to their food.
They hiss unhappily.
“Caretaker-feed!” They insist, not making an effort to move the food.
He shrugs, maybe it’s an instinct thing.
Phil lifts the sandwiches and examines them. How… does he feed them? Is it too big?
While he’s examining the sandwiches in his hands, having leaned away from the twins to look at the food, the nestlings get impatient and bite into the food straight from his hands.
He blinks incredulously.
“What?”
The twins ignore him, continuing to eat the food from his hands. Soon enough, the food is gone save for a small bite in each hand which the twins couldn’t reach.
Wilbur leaves his mouth open, looking at Phil while he waits for… something.
Techno is also waiting, but his mouth isn’t waiting agape like his brother’s.
“Huh? Do… Am I supposed–”
“Caretaker-feed!” Techno hisses unhappily. Wilbur nods.
Phil tentatively plops the last bite of food into Wilbur’s mouth, the nestling chewing happily before settling back to relax against Phil’s body. Techno hisses unhappily again and tries to bite Phil’s fingers.
“Hey! No biting, Techno,” Phil scolds, moving his hand away. Techno pouts, but Phil pushes the food back into the boy’s mouth before he can try to bite Phil again.
Good nestlings, his instincts coo.
Phil’s just slightly overwhelmed by now having two children under his charge.
He tries not to think about that though….
It’s kind of hard not to when they’re trying their hardest to get comfortable in his lap, moving almost incessantly around.
He sighs.
At least they’re cute.