Archive of Our Own

The townsfolk cheered as the monster hunters returned in triumph, the Ravengence egg trophy displayed for all to see. The golden shell gleamed in the sunlight, scattering reflections upon the cobbled streets leading to the temple at the village’s heart. The horse pulling its cart panted and heaved from the immense weight. Only Technoblade was sharp enough to notice they returned with two fewer members than they left with, though whether a monster or in-fighting slaughtered them was a coin flip. Either way, mark his words: this wasn’t going to be the end of the bloodshed. Technoblade predicted a mess batch of ‘sudden’ deaths, the golden egg rapidly changing bloody hands. Worse, Ravengences were notoriously twice as cunning for every ounce they were spiteful, and held both in spades. He cared little for the spats of the avaricious, but the bereft monster parent wasn’t likely to be so discerning in its retaliation. The village was going to pay dearly. 

Well. More likely they were going to end up paying Technoblade dearly, if they wanted him to fix their problems. Still. A lot of people were going to suffer. 

By the laughter and boasting about pilfering an unguarded nest, the band of hunters had little idea what doom they’d brought upon the village. Or perhaps they did. Perhaps they knew and didn’t even care, planning to skip town with the loot before the consequence caught up. What did it matter once they had their treasure?

Technoblade grimaced. He wasn’t in monster hunting for the fame or money -not that those weren’t nice!- but because it was a proper service necessary for the balance of man and nature. Perhaps he found thrill in the hunt, in an intense battle that could go either way, dancing on the razor’s edge of victor and carcass…but that was neither here nor there. It mattered little, as anyone who took one glance at his scarred snout would chalk it up to a piglin’s obsession with gold. Nothing more than a greedy brute, useful only as muscle for hire. 

When they split open the Ravengence egg, a cheer went up at the liquid gold that poured out. Well, till they realized it was pure yoke. A groan rippled out across the coalesced crowd. They left the unborn in an ugly heap, concerned only with the gold that had housed it. 

Once the crowd shifted enough away, Technoblade knelt before the pool of yoke. “Aw the brute thinks it’s real gold,” one of the hunters scoffed. Technoblade ignored him, carefully scooping up the fragile unborn hatchling like one would a dog. A cord of sadness struck him to see their fore and hind legs drawn up, and the little bare nubs of what would never be wings stretched in flight. Though not a gentle man, Technoblade tried to be, the life lost far more precious than the gold that once housed it. You would have been a worthy foe, one day, he consoled the tiny form. 

“Hey?” a heckling hunter called. “What do you call a gold coin tossed in a hoard of piglins? A bloodbath!” 

“Oh get new material, I’ve heard that one a million times,” another scoffed. 

“How am I supposed to come up with new jokes if they only care about the one thing?” the hunter defended. As they were chewed out for their lackluster skills as a stand-up comedian, Technoblade absconded with the hatchling. The tension eased from his body as he slunk out of the village, vanishing entirely as he melted into the woods, always so uncomfortable around other people. Far more soothing to know he could be attacked by an owlbear or drake at any time than have to interact in a social context. 

His cottage was closer to a shack, if that, but it was home. Hopping over the tripwire at his front door, Technoblade swept past the walls bristling with gold-plated weaponry that whispered with enchantments. Carefully resting the hatchling on his workbench, he snapped open his hunting journal. The page with Ravengences was sparse, but Technoblade armed himself with any information he could, and so he sketched their form out across the page. The chick was already far larger than the ravens the species resembled, though Technoblade wasn’t sure how big they would’ve been given a chance to grow up. After all, Ravengences resided mostly in folk tales and drunken boasts. 

In the midst of his potato patch, Technoblade scuffed his hoof in the dirt till the hole was large enough. He carefully lay the hatchling within the humble tomb. Then, Technoblade fished out a gold coin. Though loath to part, that hesitance was born of practicality. He made little enough of it these days, and gold genuinely was prized in piglin culture. Not for any abstract currency; the existence of money was the most absurd thing in the world to Technoblade. No, gold sang in the hands of piglins, its potential drawn out in ways mankind never truly figured out. Even pressed in a useless circular shape and disfigured with the face of a stupid human king, Technoblade could feel the faint thrum of magic within pleading to be drawn out. 

With his hunting knife, Technoblade scratched the enchantment rune for true flight on the back of the coin. When flipped, it landed perfectly in the grave, heads up. While meant for arrow heads, over time it took on a double meaning. A guide, almost, that the dead would be safely delivered to the afterlife. And, well, it felt apt for a Ravengence, whose aerial mastery was unmatched. 

Fly true, kid. Or whatever. Technoblade was neither poet nor theist. But he was a monster hunter, and he knew one thing well: Taking the life of the young was cruel. 

And the revenge of their sire was often crueler. 

The barkeep was trying to short him on the fresh meat he brought in from his recent hunt. It was the cleanest kill he’d ever gotten on a direwolf, too, but noooo people were scared of being dive bombed by the Ravengence just because the people who stole its egg were found in mangled pulps on the roof of the temple and APPARENTLY that was bad for business. Death stalked those who even touched the egg, and yet it kept trading hands. Every fresh murder was blamed on the Ravengence, but that was so the thin veneer of a functional civilization was maintained. Anyone with half a brain knew the cleaner kills were from a someone, not a something. 

Eventually the price was haggled out, less because it was a fair price and more because Technoblade was tired of arguing. The barkeep kept making vague comments about how his kills would fetch a higher price once the Ravengence was slain. Technoblade had gotten many such comments as of late, with sharper and sharper undertones. But take too many jobs, and the other monster hunters might seek to cut the competition. Still, that didn’t stop everyone from knowing he was the best of the best. To avoid the hassle of mercenary politics, Technoblade tended to sit back and take the bounties no one else would do, but more often than not those were the bounties no one else could do. 

He wasn’t able to escape the tavern before he was cornered by yet another proposition. And unlike the last few, he knew by the robes they had the coin to back it up. Although, notably missing the gold trimming the priest class tended to wear. He wondered if that was because it had all been stolen and the attacks meant the church coffers really were so barren, or if they were electing not to risk the Ravengence swooping down upon them. Either way, they clearly wanted it gone. At this rate there wouldn’t be a scrap of gold in the entire village by the end of the month. 

“Come on, you’ll be well rewarded,” the high priestess enticed. The temple had been hit the worst, its gilded tapestries shredded beneath the talons of the enraged monster. 

“If you still have gold left at this point,” Technoblade scoffed. But he rooted to the spot as her hand rested on his arm. A laughable threat to a towering brute like him, if and only if you were a fool. Technoblade hadn’t the social protection to go against Church Prime. He had a reputation, but that just meant he had to maintain it if he didn’t want to be run out of town. Again. “Near as I can tell it’s fair. You took its gold, it takes yours.”

“That gold would go to you, should you manage to kill it. People are dying, this isn’t just a matter of money.” It was when there weren’t enough pews filled for the offering altar to overflow. But he held his tongue. Not his place. No where was his place, save getting himself killed for others. Problem was Technoblade was exquisite at his job. 

“Nobody that didn’t have it coming. If you didn’t touch that egg you’re fine.” 

“It killed a kid last week!”

“And you killed its. Seems straight forward to me.” Technoblade sighed, “look, it wasn’t me who went and jacked up the balance. If I go out there and kill the local Ravengence, all the smaller monsters are going to surge in population without that check in place. You’re going to be over-run with harpies at a minimum, and direwolves, and Gods know what else.” Sounded like wayy more work if he succeeded. He brushed past the priestess, looking the egress from the conversation. He could feel the eyes of the entire tavern burrowing under his pelt, as if somehow this was all his fault. “It’ll cause more problems than it’s worth, and all the money in the world won’t change my mind on the matter.” 

“Greedy, much? No wonder piglins and Ravengences are natural enemies. I bet you’re too scared to go after it. I mean, the viscera they found isn’t even fit for swine. Steve and Alex were in chunks, I tell you, and they still haven’t found little Tommy’s body…”

Technoblade froze with one hoof out the door. Tommy. Great. “...it got Tommy?” 

“Does he mean something to you?”

“He’s the one always breaking into my home and trying to nick my weapons,” Technoblade snorted, walking out of the tavern. 

“So being annoying means he deserved to die?! You’re heartless,” she spat. 

“Unfortunately he is also funny as hell. Was.” The correction was bitter on his tongue. Technoblade shook his head, knowing he couldn’t afford grief in front of this crowd. “Nah, I’ll do it,” he called over his back. “But I want my weight in gold for this one.” He’d need it, for a proper tribute. Tommy was worth far more than a measly gold true flight coin. 

The cabin felt extra quiet that night, unbearably so. Technoblade lay with his back turned against the room, trying to ignore the pile of blankets in the corner that Tommy crashed in more nights than not. When he gave up on falling back asleep long before dawn brushed the land, Technoblade did not look at the second cup he’d had to carve for Tommy when grabbing his own for coffee. Same for the second plate when he ate a cold breakfast. And when dressing he definitely didn’t acknowledge the pelts he’d been planning to turn into a proper cloak for the boy. Almost a teen! Tommy would’ve snapped. There was no one to correct him anymore. He’d never thought of his home as lonesome, until now. 

Escaping a bad situation. That’s all Tommy ever gave him, when he tentatively prodded in the direction of why the boy stayed with him. Technoblade didn’t have the courage to ask what that meant if Tommy still returned to his real home sometimes, albeit never for long. But Technoblade preferred to avoid tricky topics, and now he’d never know. Don’t think about that. You’re the mindless killing machine everyone sees you as. Just stop. thinking. about. him.

Technoblade froze unexpectedly as he reached for his favorite axe hanging on the wall, incapable of ignoring Tommy’s gilded dagger right beside it. The boy’s first real enchanted weapon, presented with all the gravitas and tenderness Technoblade could muster: i.e., tossing it at Tommy unexpectedly and laughing as he scrambled and dropped it. He hadn’t thought to tell Tommy what a gift of gold from a piglin meant. Now he never could. 

As Technoblade armed himself for the fight to come, he hesitated, then grabbed Tommy’s dagger, tracing the largest rune decorating its surface. Loyalty. So the dagger would always come back when Tommy threw it. 

(In truth, so that Tommy would always come back.)

(Maybe if he’d had the dagger on him, he would’ve.) 

(Maybe he would’ve survived, then.)

Technoblade plunged into the dark woods, his thoughts surely even darker. But restlessness had its way with him, and grief drove him relentlessly to action. The consequences paled in comparison, be it the crumple of the ecosystem without its keystone or the slaughter of himself. All that mattered was the Ravengence suffered for every ounce of pain it poured into his friend. 

                                 “—-help!” 

It was Tommy’s voice, ringing through the woods. There wasn’t even a trace of doubt in his mind. Before Technoblade even knew what was happening he was sprinting, tearing through the forest with little care for what sound he made. “TOMMY!” he howled. There wasn’t time for the relief of realizing he was still alive, not when he was screaming for his life. “I’M HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE, TOMMY, YOU’RE SAFE!” 

                                 “—-help!” 

He was running for his life, had to be, voice muffled with distance. It seemed faster than conceivable, jerking from one spot to the other. The echo didn’t help, blurring his normally acute piglin hearing. If he could just pinpoint it- whatever was attacking him didn’t matter; Technoblade would slaughter it, but only if he got to Tommy in time. “What is it? What’s hurting you? It’s dead, you hear me? Dead!” Pure silence greeted him, the forest achingly quiet. Technoblade ran. What else could he do? “Tommy! Where are you?!” 

                                                     “i-   dead

                                   -  -if you don’t help!” Blood loss. Had to be, he sounded incoherent, voice cracking with agony. Technoblade drew his crossbow as he ran, but there wasn’t even a hint of danger. It was eerily quiet, save for Tommy’s shouts. Nature held silent in a fearful, choked breath. 

“I will! Okay? I’ll help, just tell me what’s going on!” 

                     “ -  --I can’t– -  — -”  

He sounded panicked, disorientated. But closer, Technoblade was getting closer, and that was all that mattered. A little further. A little more, and Tommy would be safe. Technoblade had tasted the grief of his death once. He couldn’t stomach it a second time, not when he had a chance to save him. “Are you hurt? Did it hurt you?!”

“Come–

 Come— -   —            -h– — -      

                                 –    - █̵̰̅e   █̸̳͐  r  e-” 

“I’m here. I will always be here for you,” Technoblade swore. In a glimpse he saw a shadow flicker between the trees, and he crashed through the underbrush, desperate to reach Tommy.

But he stood alone on the other side, when only seconds before Tommy sounded mere feet away. Technoblade whirled around, but there wasn’t even stirring in the pines standing sentry around him. “…Tommy..?” 

“…………..--.--..-----̴̹̎-̶̳͆-̷̛͕-̶̟̈.̴͈̈-̴͈͊-̸̪̿-̴̻͂-̴͕̔--̷̢̄-̷͉͋-̵͓́-̷̡̇.̸͗͜-̴͚̂-̶͇̍<̷͍͠<̷̲͛{̶̘͒{̸̀͜█̴̖̾{̶̖̽{̵̠̎{̶̵̴̴̵̠͚̳̠̰̂̀̎̍̇ ̵̬́{̶͎̆’̷̡̿█̴̖̾{̴̫̀█̶͇͆█̸͎̊█̴̛͓█̴͇̔,̸͓̒ ̴̴̶̵̶̢͉̭̫̆̒̓̇̈́ͅ, ̴̫̓█̷̢̏█̸̪̈́█̴͚̕█̵̍͜ ̷̢͑██ █ ████████ ██ ██?! █’█ █████ ██ ██████ ██ ███ ███’█ help!”

Tommy’s voice crackled from above, ringing hollow. Technoblade slowly looked up, trying to find the boy’s shape in the dark branches overhead. Something was wrong. Something was really, really wrong. Silently, he cocked his crossbow, ears pricked and muscles taut. The arc of the bolt streaked through the canopy, flame illuminating patches of pitch black foliage. 

The Ravenegence’s crimson face stared back at him, pitch black eyes burrowing into him. Its disk curved in the elegant shape of a heart much like that of an owl’s face, unblinking as the bolt soared past and buried deep into bark. A few sparks flared before the enchantment vanished, plunging the world into dark once more. 

“Come on, █ ███’█ ██ ███; it’s dead, █ha█ ██ █ supposed to d█?! I'█ █████ ██ ██████e– –  -    -!”                                            █ha█ ██ █

      █ha█ ██ █

The Ravengence cackled at him, puppeting Tommy’s voice sickeningly. It had only been luring him in with the voice of the child it slaughtered. In the growing twilight he caught the lurch of its silhouette, silently plunging towards him. The blur of dark feathers wove between the volley of shots he fired out, Technoblade throwing himself to the ground as the beast narrowly missed dive-bombing him. Its talons scraped at his armor, the enchantments screeching in Technoblade’s ears as protection barely managed to stop him from being gouged to death. There was only so much gilded armor could do though. Launching himself immediately to attack its back, Technoblade swore and rolled to the side to avoid the buck of its powerful hind claws. His crossbow bolt buried itself in the monster’s flank, bursting into bright gold fire as dark feathers singed. 

Screeching and flapping wildly, the Ravengence reared to twice his height, twisting into a blitz speed gallop. He slashed his axe through its dark eyes, knockback consuming the momentum that would have surely turned Technoblade into a fine red smear. Dark blood stained the crimson feathers of its face, and Technoblade grinning sharply at having blinded it, only for a beak to stab at him from seemingly nowhere. Technoblade scrambled back in a narrow dodge, realizing he’d mistaken the cryptic pattern staining its breast for a face. That meant— crap how big was this thing? He’d thought it a little taller than him, but if that was its chest the withers had to be towering over him, let alone the top of its head, wherever that was. Its dark plumage was indistinguishable from the fading night- or, his plumage, Technoblade supposed, given males tended towards splashy plumage displays. Barely could he make out the shape, an arching neck leading to an enormous corvid head, the flare of dark wings and tail feathers, the shifting of four legs ready to trample or claw him to death. A being of pure lethality. 

In his distraction, the Ravengence pummeled him with a wing sweep, bashing him with nearly concussive force into a tree. His golden axe flung from his hand, Technoblade paling as the Ravengence lunged…only for his beak to snap up the weapon, swallowing it whole. “…huh. Suppose they have to get that gold to shell their egg somehow,” Technoblade muttered. He supposed it made for a thick armor that prevented most potential predators from eating them, and was chemically inert enough to safely pass through digestion. Wait. Wait it just ate his weapon. Technoblade gulped at the power play, only for his rage to crystallize. 

“NO YOU STUPID, STUPID RAVEN THAT WAS FAVORITE AXE!” Technoblade howled. “IT’S GOING TO BE GROSS WHEN I PULL IT OUT OF YOUR INTESTINES!”

"██ ███ ████D, ████I█ ███E█ ████-!  !”

The Ravengence charged once more, Technoblade narrowly dodging the cruel beak that seemingly plunged at him from pure shadows. Desperately Technoblade tossed out a handful of coins, their gold glinting in the glimpses of approaching dawn. At once distracted, the Ravengence fell upon the gold, pecking it up. Taking the costly chance, Technoblade leapt at him, the monster squawking in undignified fashion and batting at him with his massive wings. Clawing into fistfuls of feathers, Technoblade scrambled onto the beast’s back, stabbing in serrated hunting knives to gain purchase. No matter how he spun and bucked and flapped, Technoblade clung on for dear life with one hand, pulling out the next knife and burying it deep in the Ravengence’s flank. He pulled himself closer and closer to the panicking monster’s head, ready to slit his throat for what he did to Tommy. 

The beak snapped around his leg, ripping him away. Technoblade screamed as it felt like razors dug into his calf. Stars of pain blotted out his vision. The Ravengence slammed him into the ground, featherfall the only thing stopping his neck from snapping on impact. He shook Technoblade furiously like a wolf wringing out a rabbit’s neck, crashing into trees and rocks with force that surely would have broken an unprotected human’s spine. Gritting his tusks, Technoblade did the worst crunch of his life, stabbing into the shoulder of the monster. 

The Ravengence screamed in Technoblade’s own voice. 

Technoblade hit the ground softly thanks to his runes, trying to scramble away only to find his leg couldn’t support weight. Oh no. Technoblade whipped out his crossbow, firing bolt after bolt that exploded into the monster in flashes of fire quickly doused by flapping wings. Each one slammed the Ravengence back. It had to be the fastest Technoblade had ever loaded his crossbow, the best aiming of his life. One second too late or one shot missed and the monster would rip him apart, held only at bay with the knock back of each hit. With each splash of blossoming fire, Technoblade’s stolen screams scraped at his ears, harrowing for all that he couldn’t afford to flinch. 

The Ravengence’s craning neck reared back to towering height, the faintest glimmer of malice in his dark eyes catching the first hint of dawn. Seething, the monster realized he could get no closer. His crow beak peeling back in a hiss, dark tongue lined with sharp teeth. An earth-cracking screech poured from his throat, a jumbled cacophony of countless voices vying for dominance. The screams of those the Ravengence slaughtered burned in Technoblade’s ears, gut-wrenching as he recognized some of them. These were the last words of people he knew. Their pain, their pleading, their perishing. Buried in them rang the thread of Tommy’s voice, bright and crisp and dead. It intertwined with Technoblade’s howls, regardless if they tore from the throat of the piglin or the Ravengence.  

Sharp ringing drowned out the world, Technoblade blearily came-to curled in a little ball. His brain was clawed into mincemeat. He couldn’t hear his moan as talons pried him apart, snapping the tendons holding his carapace of armor on. A stab of panic broke through his disorientated state as Technoblade was peeled out of his armor. No. No no no- he didn’t register his fearful whimper as the last of his protection was torn away, left utterly vulnerable to the wicked talons and teeth of the beast. 

Philza heard it, though, pausing to examine his prey. Still alive. Good. It’d taste better. He went back to swallowing the funny shaped shiny the person was wearing. 

Giant talons sliced thin ribbons of blood into Technoblade’s ribs as they wrapped around his chest. In one motion they could pierce through and eviscerate him utterly. Or, Technoblade thought blurily as he was lifted into the air, head lulling back. Or he could apply a little more pressure and pulverize me. His ribs creaked beneath the vice grip. 

Technoblade’s stomach plummeted to the ground as the Ravengence suddenly shot upwards, wind roaring so loudly his deafened hearing could pick it up. The towering pines shrunk to pinpricks, gut-wrenchingly distant. His body wouldn’t even be recognizable should he fall from this height. Even should he manage to kill the beast, his death was assured. In an ever-widening gyre the Ravengence spiraled upwards, till coasting into a lazy serpentining soar. But he didn’t seem inclined to drop his prey, talons gripping painfully tight as shivers wracked Technoblade’s body at the rapidly dropping temperature. His warm, crimson-stained chest pressed against Technoblade’s back, feathers tickling as they rippled in the wind. 

The distant world below turned slowly, never to be reached by him again. The sun crested over the horizon, golden streaks sending shadows fleeing across the landscape. It spilled over lush carpets of forest broken only by the lazy lapis dragons that rivers cut through the world. Technoblade’s breath caught in his throat. Oh. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad last sight to have. Surely heaven wasn’t any prettier. 

The enormous nest perched in the crevice of a sheer rock face, as if some cruel god had sliced a mountain in half. There wasn’t a chance of escape even if the Ravengence hadn’t eaten most of his weapons, even if his leg worked, even if Technoblade wasn’t about to be eaten alive. A thrilled chirp poured out of the throat of the monster, met in kind by a smaller, clumsy replica. Fantastic. He was going to be ripped to shreds by chicks. Black ink blots spilled across his vision, his vertigo only growing worse as the Ravengence dangled him above the awaiting heads of ravenous baby monsters. Technoblade blearily tried to get his eyes to focus, even as the world swam in a strange manner and fire poured down his mangled leg. It didn’t… look like a chick, but he’d never seen one with proper plumage before. It would make sense if their chicks were small golden blurs. 

“Techno???” 

And it didn’t sound like a bird, but it was hard to tell over his ringing ears. His stomach plummeted a little further. The chick sounded exactly like Tommy, which had to mean he was fed to the Ravengence chick, too. Ugh. He’d hoped to stay unconscious while he was ripped to shreds by the freak bird teeth thing they had going on. But alas, his fortune was to suffer, probably because he’d never bothered to give proper sacrifice to church Prime. 

“You found him! You’re the best, Philza!” the chick shouted in delight. Technoblade winced as smaller claws dug at him, probably trying to rip into his vulnerable, delicious flesh. But he was too worn from the fight and blood loss to resist as his face was seized, tilted up to expose his throat. A small blur floated before him between the inkblots. Huh. The chick looked like vaguely like a human. Apparently blood loss led to hallucinations, who knew. Or maybe their mimicry was even more intense than previously thought. 

“██ ████ h██! ██u’█ ██ ████, █h████! ?” “██ found ███! ?”

He could feel warmth seize him as the chick attacked, wrapping around and squeezing tightly. Uh. Not very effectively, mind, he was expecting more bone crushing. The chick was shaking with the effort and yet it barely hurt. Maybe the dad Ravengence would have to cut up the food first? 

There was a growing dampness from where the chick buried its face in his chest, no doubt trying to eat his heart. Ew. Monster slobber. He was never going to be able to wash that out, though the viscera stains soon to cover his mutilated corpse were probably the bigger concern. “I missed you,” the chick choked in Tommy’s stolen voice. A dull ache filled Technoblade’s chest. It was just cruel to torture him like this before his gruesome death. 

He pressed a palm flat against the chick’s back, pinning it in place. Its tiny claws dug in further in response. Knowing he was probably good as dead, Technoblade drew a hunting knife. He was going to fight to the bitter end. Technoblade weakly raised it to the chick’s back, only for a massive paw to slam down painfully on his arm, the adult Ravengence hissing dangerously. “Hey! Be more careful, you could hurt him like that. Wait-” Technoblade hissed in pain as the chick prodded his mangled leg. “That’s not beast blood?? What got you, big man? I thought you could take on any monster in these woods! Actually, you’re both pretty scuffed up. Was it a dragon or something?” 

Come to think of it…Technoblade didn’t remember Tommy ever saying any of this, and he was pretty sure Ravengences could only repeat things they’d heard. He blindly groped the chick’s face, muffling their confused protests with a palm. Definitely not a beak. And no feathers, either. “Tommy..?” he croaked. The not-chick licked his hand and he jerked away sharply, rubbing slobber off on his bloody pants. Definitely Tommy. Technoblade mopped the blood on his face -doubtlessly from one of the many times his skull was slammed into something- and found it a bit easier to see, though everything was still swimming, and he had to fight to focus. Ah, great, that was definitely Tommy. “...you’re aliiive?”

“Innit strange to be talking to me if I’m not?” A small, human hand clasped his as Technoblade reached up, hauling him to his hooves. Technoblade swayed as his vision went black, stars exploding as he put even a hint of weight on his injured leg. Eventually his eyes focused enough that there was only one Tommy before him. And it really was Tommy, with that signature lopsided grin of his. Certainly not a hint of fear in his bright eyes, nor a drop of injury no matter how Technoblade worriedly scanned for it. Beyond some smudges of dirt, the down feathers in his hair, and the glint of- were those golden amulets stolen from the high priestess around his neck?! Well– anyway he looked fine. Better than fine, even, by the beam of his grin. 

Technoblade would love to be overjoyed that Tommy was alive, but they were both dead soon, so, yeah. “Don’– hell- don’ they eat goold stuff? Like your hair?” 

“Um…actually Philza isn’t really eating that stuff…but nah he’s harmless.” Uh huh. The Ravengence snorted in amusement, and Technoblade uneasily wondered how much he could understand. 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, softie. Anyway that’s kinda my running theory, he took me ‘cause of the hair. And kept me because I’m endlessly entertaining and it would be a major tragedy for the entire world to lose me so soon.” Hmm. Or its bird instincts were frazzled and latched onto the first young it could find, mistaking Tommy for the chick Technoblade buried. The moment the monster realized he was human they were doomed. Technoblade couldn’t afford to wait, then. 

Trying to get his bearings, Technoblade very quickly noted that to fall out of the nest was a death sentence. It was fairly large, however, nestled in an alcove sliced in the cliff face. And– bingo. There was a small stash of gold in an alcove clawed into the cliff wall, piles of coins and strips of gilded murals torn from the side of church Prime. If he could get strong enough featherfall enchantment etched onto something they might survive. Might. If they even lasted that long. He was down one leg, the world kept revolving, and he had absolutely no armor or weapons. Perfect conditions to slay a beast of legends, really. 

Tommy was basically propping him up, but Technoblade did his best to put himself between the kid and the monster. …huh. Now that he wasn’t fighting for his life in the dark, the monster looked kinda small. He’d heard they were bigger. Like, don’t get him wrong, the thing made a draft horse look like a pony, albeit of a sleeker build. But he’d heard they were tall as houses. Yeah, he could totally take this thing. “Stay back. This chickadee doesn’t stand a chaaance.” Technoblade pointed yet another knife at the blurry red chest of the Ravengence floating above him. Philza just stared at him, then looked at Tommy, spreading his wings a little almost like a person throwing their arms open in exasperation. 

Before he could react, the Ravengence plucked the knife out of his hands. He braced for a hit that never came for all the growl pouring from Philza’s throat. “Woah chill out. I think he wants you to sit down before you fall over.” Technoblade distinctly got the impression that wasn’t the case, but given the way he was listing to the side he was pretty sure he hadn’t much chance of protecting anyone. He was swiftly proven right when his stumble was caught by the monster’s large head, tossing him up in the air to be snapped up in the large beak. The jagged edges of his serrated tongue curled around Technoblade’s ribs, threatening to eviscerate him but not quite breaching that. 

“I know you’re trying to help, Phil, but Techno needs to be on the ground if I’m gonna patch him up- oh right you don’t know what medicine is…” 

“Like he wasn’t the one who did this to me,” Technoblade muttered darkly as he tried to bury a knife in the Ravengence’s eye. Philza shook his violently head, rattling him half to death. 

“...you didn’t get hurt fighting off wrong-uns together..?” Technoblade couldn’t understand the betrayal in his voice. But. like. He kinda suspected he had a concussion? He had an excuse to be confused, Tommy distinctly didn’t. “PHILZA!” The Ravengence startled, feathers puffing up. “How could you?! That’s my FRIEND!” 

“-- █ you █ █–” “–███'█ ███ eat ███ ████? ███ ███ h█i█?--” “█’m…” Philza commanded firmly in a creepy mixture of both of their voices.  

“Put him DOWN! That is NOT food!” Tommy protested. 

The Ravengence made a little trill in the back of his throat, head tilting. “██ him ████! ████ is ██ food!” he insisted. Technoblade blinked, not fully realizing Ravengences could hold actual conversations and not just repeat fragments. 

“No! I’m not going to eat a person, Philza!” With a worried whine, the Ravengence dropped Technoblade on his head. He crumpled in a little ball, head swimming with vertigo. When Tommy tried to lunge to help, a wing shot out, blocking them neatly. “Get out of my way, I need to help-”

“I missed you,” the Ravengence murmured in Tommy’s voice, nudging the boy with his beak. Tommy scowled and shoved him away. His long, feathery ears flattened like a chastised bunny. “...missed you, ?”

“You attacked my friend, Phil!” 

“██ attacked █ █████, Phil!” the monster huffed, gesturing at the crossbow bolts buried in his flank and daggers protruding from his back. He made an annoyed chittering sound, as if arguing in bird-speak and increasingly frustrated that Tommy couldn’t comprehend it. Philza sent Technoblade a nasty look, vowing he’d meet a grisly end. 

“Yeah but you’re PHILZA. What’s a couple crossbow bolts gonna do? Stop whining and let me help him.” Despite protesting squawks that were surely an eloquent and logical argument in monster-speak, Tommy wriggled his way past Philza’s blockade, kneeling by where Technoblade was clutching his oft-abused noggin. Wiping away the blood with his shirt, Tommy winced and started trying to patch him up with limited supplies. When he asked Philza to refill the jug he was using to wash the wounds, his ears and expression flatted, pointedly sitting on his haunches. 

When Tommy’s back was turned to grab something, Philza’s beak unhinged, teeth-lined tongue curling along Technoblade’s face in jagged scrapes. At his urp Tommy whipped around as Philza jerked back and snapped his beak shut. His responding chirps felt rather sarcastic somehow. “So he– he was trying to make me your lunch?” Technoblade asked, hoping that was just confusion from the concussion. He could handle being monster chow; it was the Tommy component that was really throwing him off here, but his brain was too foggy to properly figure out the right questions. 

“Yeah I haven’t- haven’t eaten anything in a few days?” Tommy said with a shaky smile. “He keeps trying to feed me like dead rats and stuff. And you, I guess. I keep trying to explain food to him but it’s too foreign I guess.” Technoblade’s hand snapped to his pockets, and Philza, ever the quick learner, began to hiss, expecting yet another knife. But Technoblade pulled out some jerky he kept on him, shoving it at Tommy as he rummaged for any spare food he kept on him. He’d been planning on a proper hunt and packed accordingly, which naturally meant some level of food supplies. Tommy was overjoyed, and Philza’s hackles lowered, cocking his head to the side and studying the food his self-proclaimed chick scarfed down. 

Technoblade snatched Tommy’s wrist to stop him from shoving another crustful of bread in his mouth, and Philza surged forward, growling. “He’s- uh, he’s going to get sick if he eats too fast after starving. Uh. Philza?” Technoblade tried, not sure exactly how much the monster could comprehend. He flinched as they reached for him, sharp talons skewering the scrap of bread and drawing it close for investigation. “That’s called bread. It’s good for people.”

There was something sharp in Philza’s eyes as he examined him. “██’█- ██, he’█ ████ █ ██ ███ █ █ eat█ ███ ████ █████ ███████. ██. █████? ███’█ █████ bread. It’s ████ for people. ?” Though unnerving to hear his butchered words in the monster’s mouth, Technoblade nodded. Without hesitation, Philza threw himself off the cliff, swooping upwards at breakneck speeds. 

Tommy yelped and almost bolted after him before thinking better of it, then groaned. “I meant to try and get him to fetch healing stuff…” They had to make do with what they had, which wasn’t much. Technoblade grit his tusks and didn’t so much as wince as Tommy wrapped up his leg, though to be clear Tommy’s bedside manner was atrocious. Almost in spite of his efforts, the ringing in Technoblade’s ears and spots in his eyes began to clear. 

Technoblade spread his arms open expectantly. Tommy simply gave him a puzzled expression. “Your arms hurting too, big man?” 

“No.” He waited, then huffed as he realized Tommy wasn’t going to initiate. Technoblade dragged the boy into a hug, burrowing his muzzle in his fluffy hair. The warm scent of Tommy washed over him, soothing and familiar. For all that he wasn’t normally a touchy-feely guy, the weight in his arms assured him Tommy was okay. 

“Awww you missed me? Clingy,” Tommy diagnosed with a snarky grin even as his arms wrapped around tight. 

“Haeh? Bro I thought you were dead, of course I did.” Technoblade frankly was a little rankled at the insinuation that he wouldn’t be devastated at his death. Tommy scoffed, cocky enough to think himself invincible. As a hunter Technoblade knew death intimately, yet to the boy it was some vague, distant thing. Not something that nearly eviscerated Technoblade not even an hour prior, its dark shadow overhung even if the Ravengence wasn’t present. How did it not register that Philza was a lethal abomination? 

“I’ll save us, alright? We’ll be gone before that bird brain even knows what hit him.” Back home, safe and sound. And with a pile of gold to boot. Not that Technoblade wasn’t dead certain that would send a vengeful Ravengence after him, but with gold like that he’d have damage capability the likes of which he’d never imagined in his wildest dreams. No more gilding for him, it would be pure from here on out. A thrill of excitement danced like adrenaline in his veins imagining the pure combat potential. Oh he’d be unstoppable. 

Tommy hummed uncomfortably. “Not really possible unless you want to splat at the bottom of the mountain. But by all means, big man, if you know a way to fly go for it.”

“Don’t need to. Just have to fall with style.” Tommy protested as he peeled away, crawling towards the pile of pilfered gold and sorting through it. Or, he supposed, the Ravengence’s version of a food cache, like a squirrel or something. Sure Tommy could say they didn’t eat gold, but Technoblade had seen his axe get munched with his own two eyes. 

The warm thrum of magic reverberated in his chest as he brushed his hooves across gleaming surfaces, trying to find a tradeoff between quality and quantity. He couldn’t afford the Philza to catch the progression of his rune work, but the more -and better- the gold, the stronger it would be. 

For some reason, Tommy was less enthused with his escape schemes. “I mean- it got a little boring when Philza was away hunting, but you’re here now! I think it’ll be fun. Phil’s awesome, you’ll love him. Yeah he attacked you, but you’re the great Techno! Not like you were ever in actual danger.”

“...you…don’t want to escape…?” It didn’t quite compute. 

“I just…kinda prefer it here, y’know?” Technoblade went still. Staying with a monster was better than staying with him? No. No, Tommy probably didn’t mean that. But that’s all he could hear, even if he tried not to show it. “Life really, really sucked down there, and I just don’t have to worry about anything anymore.” Despite his pointed barb that Philza was literally starving him to death, Tommy shrugged. “I think he’s finally figured out the food situation thanks to you. He’s really smart, just isn’t familiar with people.” 

“Yeah because he’s usually obliterating them,” Technoblade replied shortly, snatching a gilded plate. Benign enough that hopefully Philza wouldn’t cotton on, and it was one of the larger solid pieces. Plus, this particular one was calling to him. Leg aching, he sat down roughly, prodding at the gold to investigate what enchantments it would accept. “You can have fun being a monster chick, but I’m ditching this place before I end up on the menu.” He didn’t respond to any of Tommy’s further thrown out excuses, fur prickling at the subtext. Something was seriously wrong if Tommy wanted to stay here. 

Tommy frowned, not getting why Technoblade was suddenly so brusque and ignoring him. “...Can I watch you carve?” he asked as a deflection and appeasement. “Or is that like super secret piglin secrets?” Technoblade didn’t respond, but didn’t stop Tommy when he wandered over to peer over at the plate. It didn’t matter much if a human saw; they simply hadn’t a chance of replicating. Sure they could copy basic runes more or less, but piglin runes were always tailored to the unique piece they were working on. You had to listen to it, work with its history and imperfections to fully draw out gold’s potential. 

Tommy transitioned from leaning over his shoulder to simply resting his head on it. Technoblade didn’t mind so much, too absorbed in his task to remember his earlier irritation. Careful not to disturb Tommy, he tilted the plate in the early morning light, examining the nicks in its gilding, its dimensions, the useless decorative nonsense some rich human had marred its surface with. Though he normally was a man of armor and weapons, he hadn’t much choice beyond piles of useless money and the opulence of the pilfered nobility. Still, letting the gold know his hesitance was only going to sour the relationship. Technoblade gently traced the arc of the plate’s surface, pleased with the quiet hum of its potential. Even if the tinnitus from Philza’s cacophonous roar left buzzing in his ears, it couldn’t overpower the sweet melody of gold. “Can you hear it sing?” 

“Uh. No?” 

Technoblade flicked his floppy pig ears at Tommy. “It’s not that we’re worried about humans replicating our craftsmanship. You can’t.”

“Oi! We got enchantments, too!” 

“Yeah but you brute force them, just inflicting whatever you want on the object instead of figuring out what it’s best suited for. Leads to the most suboptimal gear I’ve ever seen,” he sniffed. 

“At least we use proper iron!” Tommy bickered. “It’s better in every way!” 

“Because you got trash enchantments!” They fell into a comfortable, friendly squabble. Man, he’d missed Tommy so much. There’d been too much peace and quiet without him. At least he had the courtesy to shut up a few minutes while Technoblade pressed his ear to the gold. He tapped the surface with a hoof, straining for the details of the ring to find out what would resonate. Enchanting got more difficult when trying to weave in multiple runes, some complimenting better than others. Sometimes a piece simply refused a particular enchantment, or the runes clashed to ruin both of them. Ever the over-prepared strategist, Technoblade greatly preferred to plan runes out for weeks to find the perfect combination to reach maximum potential. That wasn’t exactly on the table. 

“What’s it singing?”

“Eh? It’s not, like, words, alright? More like…the hum of magic. It’s nebulous, but this one is shaped like a gale, pulsing fast, urgent. Featherfall is definitely not going to work, that rune likes slower, mellower pieces. This one is aggressive.” It was screaming quick charge at him even though that was an absurd enchantment for a plate. But maybe a knockback, if he could convince loyalty to compliment it. He’d managed to hold off Philza decently with a fast barrage of punch arrows, and figured it was his best bet. Couldn’t get trounced if the Ravengence couldn’t get close enough! …assuming he found some way to avoid the sonic attack. 

Philza landed so softly Technoblade almost didn’t notice, head jerking up in surprise and immediately raising his guard once more. He frantically yet covertly stashed his carved plate in a heap of his hunting jacket, praying the Ravengence didn’t decide to chow down on hours of work. 

Philza squinted at Technoblade, then summarily dismissed him, looking to Tommy. A melodic chirp poured from Philza’s throat, and Tommy copied it, waving at him lazily from where he sprawled across Technoblade’s lap. A fore leg lifted, talons clawing in crude mimic of a wave. Technoblade tensed back as the Ravengence stalked forward, massive claws curling around Tommy’s head and…ruffling his hair. “Oi! You’re going to mess it up!” Tommy whined as he was dragged away from Technoblade. When the piglin tried to lunge to protect him, he was brutally bashed by a wing, grunting as he was slammed into the cliff wall and trapped there. Struggling for freedom, Technoblade panicked as Tommy was pinned down and– aggressively cuddled. 

Philza cooed warmly while glaring daggers at Technoblade, half trapping Tommy beneath his fluffy crimson chest. Rather pleased with himself, Philza offered Tommy a small mountain of clearly stolen bread, evidently a rather quick learner and eager to adjust to a proper human diet now that he knew what it was. As Tommy scarfed down more food, Philza carefully preened Tommy’s unruly hair while repeatedly bashing Technoblade into a wall. Dodging the next blow, Technoblade tried to rescue the clearly suffocating Tommy, though to no avail. Philza threw his wings out wildly in an effort to shove him out of the nest and turn Technoblade into a little splatter hundreds of feet below, cooing even louder to drown out Tommy’s protests. So preoccupied with avoiding getting knocked off the cliff by the massive wings, Technoblade was caught by an unexpected sweep of his tail feathers smashing against his legs, sending him stumbling before course correcting. He suppressed a yelp of pain as fire shot up his injured leg. 

“Oi Phil! Be nice! Techno’s the one I talked about, remember? He gave me a place to crash to avoid my parents.” Philza hesitated, then craned his long, feathered neck to peer at Technoblade. He had the oddest sensation he was being reevaluated. By a monster. That tried to kill him. Multiple times, even, and not even a minute ago as for the most recent attempt. To be fair, Philza seemed to have paused on the homicidal intent at Tommy’s behest. For now, at least. 

“Wait. Waiiiiit. Back up. Bro you mean to tell me you told a bird about your home life but didn’t tell ME?” 

Tommy shrugged. “I mean, he asked? Simple as that, innit?” 

“HOW?! He’s a BIRD.” 

“You’re a whole man and you didn’t manage,” Tommy snarked. Philza’s caws sounded almost like laughter. “And he’s a really good listener.” 

“But I’m your actual fri-”

“███ █p. █r█ ███ █e██ █–” “-█ ███, ██ █s███? █████ █ ███, ███n█t?” “███?! For████ ██ █████████;-” “- –You’██ █ █████–” Philza interrupted. 

“Oh Philza……..you shouldn’t have….really..” Tommy said through extremely false enthusiasm. Technoblade startled as Philza began to make a sound like a dog hacking up something inedible it shouldn’t have swallowed. Utterly flabbergasted, Technoblade was unable to look away as the Ravengence started puking up a river of gold. It was sorta like how you couldn’t look away from a carriage crash. 

….so they really didn’t eat gold. Ewww. 

With a last gag-inducing noise, the last of the gold was out of Philza’s mouth, alongside everything else he’d recently eaten. He picked up what appeared to be a golden curtain used for Mystic and August Rituals in the Church of Prime, and proudly showed it to an unimpressed Tommy. Must not be religious, apparently. Oh the high priestess would’ve had an aneurysm to see that, Technoblade chuckled. 

To what credit could be given to Philza, it was miraculously dry and didn’t appear to be covered in bird vomit. Had to have been stored apart from the main gut, then. Perhaps a cheek pouch? No, he would’ve spotted the bulge. Would probably make mimicking people harder, too. 

With great tender care, Philza draped Tommy in the curtain he’d horked up, shooting Technoblade a vicious glare the whole time. Technoblade stilled horribly, unable to not see what it would mean in piglin culture. He watched silently as Philza pointedly claimed Tommy in his sounder, promising the brunt of his might should Tommy call on it. Their strength to become one, souls to resonate with one another through the gold they shared. 

He knew it was different. It had to be, some random bird instinct that liked shiny things or whatever. But that didn’t change the fact Technoblade would crack a tusk if he clenched his jaw even slightly tighter. Philza stared dead on at him the entire time as he adjusted the tapestry into a comfortable shawl that swallowed Tommy’s small frame. 

He frankly could make neither heads nor tails of what was going on in that bird brain, but Technoblade knew two things for certain: 1) That golden fabric was basically screaming at him to be inscribed with featherfall; 2) Philza had just inadvertently doomed himself. Trying to remain casual and not stare directly at the golden axe by Tommy’s feet, Technoblade limped towards them, pretending to admire the fabric. Okay maybe not fully pretending, it was practically serenading him. 

“You know, that color really suits you,” he mused to Tommy’s scowl. Philza seemed grumpy at his approach, but didn’t actively try to murder him, which to be honest was a vast improvement. He glanced to Philza. “So is it like…to protect him? I figure your eggs are gold so they’re hard to eat, so do you cover chicks in it for the same reason?” Philza’s ears pricked, looking almost shocked. Then he nodded appreciatively, chittering something unintelligibly birdy. But the suspicion didn’t leave his black eyes. “That’s uh really sweet, Philza. Good to see someone else is looking out for Tommy. Just like I do. Seems we got that in common, so what do you say we uhhhhhhhhhhmh bury the hatchet? Not like I’m going anywhere haha…” Ravengences didn’t exactly have eyebrows, but Technoblade swore one of Philza’s arched, waiting for the axe to fall. 

Or rather, rise, as Technoblade lunged for his axe and snatched it up, cheering in victory. “--█nn█?” “█O█?! !” Philza squawked, and promptly seized it in his beak, the pair wrestling for it. Now, Technoblade was far stronger than a human but, like, Philza had a ~couple hundred pounds~ on him and so yanked him up into the air, hanging onto the handle for dear life as Philza began to shake his head violently in effort to dislodge him. 

“PHILZA NO!” 

The Ravengence stilled, then grunted and wrapped his talons around Technoblade’s midriff, prying him off the axe and setting him down. With a toss of his head he threw the axe up into the air and swallowed it whole once more, then pecked up all the other gilded weapons he’d stolen. Technoblade sighed. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. Philza proceeded to pick over the gold cache, eating all weapons in it. Not that Technoblade hadn’t already pilfered the ones he wanted. 

“Th█’█ █ ████ ████, ██i██. ███ █ █e█ █████ ███ █ █████ ██ f██ █████,” Philza accused coldly. 

Technoblade spread his hands wide. “I call that fair. You took my gold and blood.”

“You took my gold and blood,” Philza reiterated irritatedly. “-█’m █o███ ████re.”

Tommy stepped between them with his arms raised. Quite the situation if Tommy of all people was playing peacemaker. “I’m not going to eat him, okay?! So either you let him go or you two play nice!” Philza immediately mimed tossing Technoblade off the cliff, but huffed and stopped at Tommy’s stern look. “Now, I’m certain,” Tommy said warningly, “that Techno is cranky because he hasn’t had anything to eat.” Begrudgingly, Philza tossed a loaf of quashed bread in his direction. Technoblade sarcastically genuflected by offering a literal toast. “And Philza is cranky because he flew off before I could patch him up. Right?” 

Actually, the numerous slash marks and bolts buried in Philza’s flank looked rather painful, but Technoblade could barely walk and suffered a concussion, so he had little sympathy. Only recently had his ears stopped ringing from the sonic attack, too. Tommy alas was not of the same callousness, and so set about tending to their raptor captor. Or rather, tried to, but found he hadn’t the strength for pulling out the bolts buried in the birds’ flesh. 

Unfortunately Technoblade was commandeered for the task, and relented to Tommy’s badgering less out of any good will and more for the chance of recovering his weapons. Philza was even less enthused than he was, but hadn’t the dexterity to pull the bolts and daggers out of his own back. 

Because of his injured leg, Technoblade couldn’t exactly stand to work. Neither were pleased with the decision for Technoblade to crawl on his back for the procedure, Philza for the memory of how much he was stabbed the last time Technoblade mounted, and Technoblade for the possibility of being easily flung off and to his death. But a wing flared out for him to climb on, and with more than a little pain Technoblade managed. 

He automatically dug his knees in as Philza instinctively jerked, a reflex buried into Technoblade from years spent on horseback. It reminded him of the caravan he’d been hired to protect, back when he was a younger man. There weren’t a lot of job opportunities, but he could always find someone willing to pay him to risk his life on their behalf. Come to think of it, little had changed. Technoblade had quit that life the second he had enough money to get a proper house and settle down -if being a monster hunter could be considered settling down. Technoblade wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the bed he had now…or the bed he had before he got temporarily kidnapped. Working on it! Still, if there was one thing about his time with the caravan he missed, it was the horse they’d lent him, Carl. Shame he hadn’t been able to afford to buy him off the caravan owner, but he’d needed to put the money to use elsewhere. Shame. It always seemed to come back to gold, or rather its lack. 

Thick muscles knotted below him, so taut as to snap like a bowstring at a moment’s notice. He could feel himself lifting as feathers ruffled, in agitation. “Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he found himself soothing like he would’ve Carl, stroking Philza’s back to calm him. Philza bristled as if offended, causing Technoblade to snicker. He was surprisingly expressive for a monster. “Bruh if I meant to stab you again I would’ve done it by now. You’re my meal ticket at the moment, alright? If I try anything I’ll starve to death. And if you kill me, these’ll get infected and then you’ll die. So that’s basically like trust, right?” 

Philza braced as he placed one hand against the wound, wrapping his hooves around the hilt. In a swift motion he tore the lodged weapon out. Philza didn’t scream, but it was a near thing, instinctively lurching as if he could escape the attack. Technoblade clung on, trying to apply pressure to the wound. The ragged, pained breathing nearly knocked him off alone. 

The golden crossbow bolt was still good. He wiped the blood off on his trousers, stashing it back in his quiver. Tommy tossed up medical supplies, and Technoblade went to work patching up the wounds he’d inflicted. It was almost flattering to know he’d actually done a decent chunk of damage. Sure hadn’t felt like it, at the time. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said as he pulled out another serrated knife, “I’m sorry for trying to kill you after you lured me in with the voice of the kid I thought you slaughtered in order to murder me for cannibalism purposes. Honestly, kinda BM on my end.”

“--█ ███ you ████ ██ ███ █ █ ███ ██ ████ █ ██ ███ █ █████ ██ s████h███ █ o███ t█ █████ █ f██ ██i█████ ██r██s██. █████t██,---- - -.”

“...yeah. I did. Again, the part where you have a history of turning people to mincemeat kinda gave me a weird first impression of you.” Dusk nearly sat in by the time he was done, and when Tommy helped him down Technoblade nearly collapsed on him. Philza threw out a wing to stabilize him, which Technoblade took with exhausted gratitude as he limped back to his spot safely on the other side of the nest. Or, safe as he could be, given the massive ebony wingspan more than easily reached him. Still, fairly spacious nest all things considered. Technoblade was endlessly psyched to spend the foreseeable future trapped in a space even smaller than his crummy cheap shack of a house. Yuuuup. This was going to pair incredibly well with his inability to sit still. Yay. 

Post preening his feathers around his bandaging, Philza stretched and rose, stalking to where Technoblade was trying to prepare what was looking to be a chilly night. Likely unrestful, too, given the dangerous predator next to him. The Ravengence loomed over, a shrewd look in his pitch black eyes. His gut had Technoblade tensing to run, but where to? And how? He could barely walk thanks to Philza. 

“████, th█ █a██ ████ ██ ███ █ █████ █ ████n█ █████ █ ███████ k████ ███ ██ █ ████ ███ ████s██ █ ███,”

“Haeh? Uh, no problem,” Technoblade replied awkwardly. Philza held his massive talons, and Technoblade tentatively took it and shook hands, somewhat perplexed as to how he’d know people mannerisms. Eh, probably Tommy. But Philza didn’t let go, taking his other hand in between his claws. He was being gentle, obviously, but refused to let go. “Hey, uh, handshakes don’t normally last this long- HEY!” Technoblade squirmed as Philza’s head ducked, serrated tongue curling around the hilt of the knife strapped to his side. He protested as Philza yanked it from its sheath and swallowed it whole. The claws tightened as he struggled, but it was only a warning, not enough to draw blood. 

As Philza went to eat the next knife, Technoblade’s kick landed squarely on his beak. Technoblade cried out in pain as weight fell upon his injured leg, and Philza jerked back, taking a second to find a position that pinned him in place without hurting him. Honestly, Technoblade was more annoyed that he was being considerate. Philza’s beak nudged him roughly, rooting out the knives on his belt and emptying his quiver completely. 

Man. Like, not that Technoblade hadn’t expected it, hence why he’d hidden a bolt or two in his sleeves, but still! That was just rude and uncalled-for. His disgruntled protests garnered nothing, not even sympathy. Tommy just shrugged. “I mean you just spent a couple hours getting all those out of Philza, I can’t imagine he’d want a repeat.” Technoblade grumbled. Traitor. But for the most part he was just annoyed and resigned with the pat down. At least, till he realized the next dagger Philza was about to swallow was Tommy’s.

Because Technoblade saw red. 

With more might than he knew he possessed, Technoblade wrenched a hand out of Philza’s grasp, eyes flashing with magic as the loyalty dagger soared out of the monster’s throat to his waiting hand. Utterly baffled, Philza’s head jerked repeatedly between Technoblade and the enchanted weapon. When he reached for it again, Technoblade growled at him. Philza cocked his head to the side, squinting at the tiny person he had completely pinned and could eviscerate in one swipe who was nonetheless escalating the interaction. The look Philza gave him almost had Technoblade questioning if he was the sapient one in the equation. 

Before it could be taken, Technoblade chucked it at Tommy. Panicked, Philza struck out to block it, but the enchantment threw it out of the way to land safely in Tommy’s hands. “Oh! The dagger you gave me!” Tommy said brightly. “Thanks, Techno!” 

Philza stared at him for a long, long time. Somehow, Technoblade would wager he knew exactly what it meant, even if Tommy didn’t. After all, Philza likewise claimed chicks with gifts of gold. It was a mutual understanding they shared, if no less tense for it. They weren’t enemies, no, it was far worse than that; It would’ve been easier if they only wanted to kill each other. Apparently, they were to be rivals. 

As a straightforward man, Technoblade tended to the same meals every day for the convenience of it. Given the way the villagers tended to boast about prying gold out of the hooves of greedy piglins and would jack up the prices the moment his shadow crossed their thresholds, Technoblade found it far more economical to sustain himself on a simple and above all self-procured diet. But as the days passed he quickly ran out of the meals he’d brought for his hunt, having planned to supplement with fresh meat and not having two mouths to feed. While Philza was rather generous in his procurement of bread, he also exclusively brought bread. Even Technoblade was getting tired of it, let alone the nutritional concerns. Plus Tommy was probably a growing kid or something. What he wouldn’t give for a baked potato right now! But the last thing he’d want was some monster ripping up his vegetable garden. Not that it would even work; despite their combined best efforts, neither of them could manage to properly convey the intricacies of the human diet to Philza, much to the frustration of all parties. 

Well, Technoblade had enough of it. The next time Philza returned to the next with a half gutted deer carcass (and why yes, of course that was another mound of bread, the bakery must be in shambles) Technoblade seized it despite squawking protest. Frankly he was just glad it was food and not more golden gifts. If he were honest, it was a bit of a hit to his ego to watch Philza constantly shower Tommy in gold and be completely unable to match it. It wasn’t his fault! He was trapped in a nest, and anyway he wouldn’t rob people blind. Couldn’t; if he fell into piglin stereotypes the entire town would run him out in an instant. Or worse. 

Still, that didn’t change the unpleasant swirl in his gut, knowing he had no gold to offer Tommy. His vow of protection was utterly worthless if he couldn’t back it up, and right now Philza was loudly and frequently proving he was a much better guardian. 

But Technoblade had other ways to rival Philza’s provisions that the Ravengence simply couldn’t match. And in reality Tommy probably cared a lot less about the gold than the non-humans did. After all, the quickest way to a man’s heart was his stomach (or through the ribs) and Technoblade had an advantage Philza could never match: Having basic comprehension of what was edible for humans. 

Philza, having intended to eat an entire raw deer, was peevish about his kill being stolen. “Hold on, we’re omnivores too. Tommy’s going to be a runt if you don’t feed him a balanced diet, and you don’t want that alright?” He dragged the venison to the pile of woods he’d gathered from parts of the nest and stacked against the stone cliff face. Turning his back to Philza couldn’t see, Technoblade slipped the bolt out of his sleeve, striking it against tinder a few times till the sparks of flame caught. Ignoring the scrambling behind him, Technoblade encouraged the fire to grow…till a powerful flap of Philza’s wings blew the entire thing out in a rush of wind. 

Ire sparking, Technoblade whirled around, only to find Philza completely puffed up and sheltering Tommy. His dark eyes were fully dilated. Technoblade couldn’t help bursting out in laughter at the shaking ball of black fluff cawing angrily at him. “Oh come on, you’re willing to terrorize a whole town but a few sparks and you’re freaked out?” 

“I think I was a giant feather duster I’d also be afraid of fire,” Tommy offered half charitably. “And there’s not much room, and we’re fenced in by a giant pile of sticks.” 

Haeh? What was he– ooooohhhhhhh right. Other species could get hurt by fire. That had completely slipped Technoblade’s mind. But despite Philza’s reservations, Technoblade’s explanation of what cooking was combined with Tommy salivating at the chance to have something other than bread led to a small fire being permitted. Although, Philza perched as far away as possible, Tommy carefully tucked underwing for safety. 

Technoblade patted out the fire when he was done, barely remembering to stop Tommy from touching the still searing food before he burned his little fleshy fingers. The kid complained the whole time while Technoblade began to chow down, impervious to searing his tongue. Tommy practically scarfed down his venison the second it cooled enough. Philza peered curiously, his reservations outweighed by learning of another food source for his chick. 

Technoblade peeled off a strip of roasted meat, tossing it over. Snapping it up midair, Philza’s tune immediately changed re: fire. Technoblade practically had to hold him off from devouring the entire deer before he could get his fill in. Greedy lout. But at least Philza was eager to bring back fresh kills and firewood. And he hadn’t the ability to get anywhere near fire, so Technoblade earned another tally in the scoreboard of which of them could better provide for Tommy. Take that, you glorified chicken. 

As Philza preened, Technoblade flipped open his hunting journal, taking the opportunity to examine how the wings worked while they were flared out and mostly still. He wished ardently for his pastels, his charcoal unable to capture the sheen of azure across midnight feathers, or the vibrancy of the crimson heart on his chest. Not that, uh, knowing the color of a monster usually mattered much for killing it, but it was useful for telling an acid slime from a poisonous one, and those distinctions were life-saving, so he’d splurged for art supplies he carefully rationed out. They were probably wasted on his somewhat crude sketches. 

Lost in detail work, he only looked up when a massive shadow pooled over the page. On reflex he almost snapped the journal shut. But it wasn’t as if he’d really lose trade secrets, since Philza wasn’t exactly literate. Philza stared intently at Technoblade’s work. Admiring the drawing of himself, maybe? But no, Philza’s talon pointed at the sketch of the dead Ravengence chick. His paw was trembling slightly. 

“Yeah, uh. I buried your chick,” Technoblade said softly. “That’s what people do for the dead, as a sign of respect. Y’know so some horrible beast wouldn’t eat them. I don’t- I don’t really believe in an afterlife most days, but I did the piglin death rites for them. Just in case.” Did Philza even know what an afterlife was? Was Technoblade trying to soothe Philza’s grief, or his own guilt by association? 

“███, ██. █ ████ you█ ████. ███’█ ███ ████ █ ██ ██ ███, ██ █ ███n o█ █████. █’███ █ ████ h█████ ████ ███u██’nt ██ them. ?” There was a strange tension imbued in Technoblade’s own voice. Choked, almost. 

“What? No. Course not. I only take bounties if there’s a good reason for them. Those hunters just wanted to make money selling the shell.” 

“---█████ ███ ████ █ ███ money ████ ██ ████. ??”

Technoblade snorted derisively. “The most useless thing people ever invented. They turn gold into something useless and then claim it’s the most valuable thing in the world. Sorry they killed your chick over pointless greed.” Awkwardly, he patted Philza’s scaly crow foot. A hesitation and Philza settled by his side, pensively staring at the drawing of what would have been his child. His palpable heartache made Technoblade uncomfortable, having never known what to do with the grief of others. With Tommy he’d let it fester uncontrollably, this vile silence swallowing the questions he should’ve asked to broach the subject. It was even worse with Philza, knowing he’d have to ramble enough for the Ravengence to string together an answer. He’d probably end up saying something wrong. 

But he wanted to give Philza the option to speak, should he want to. “You certainly got revenge, though. They were willing to pay my weight in gold to kill you. And even then I only bothered once I heard you murdered Tommy.” 

“CLINGY!” Tommy chirped from his other side, as if he didn’t cuddle with Technoblade more often than not. Well, not that Technoblade minded in the evening when the chill set in. “Haha! You care if I die or not!” 

Technoblade scruffed up his hair. “As annoying as being stuck with you has been, I’ve rescinded the sentiment.” Their conversation rambled, yet Philza never took the opportunity to sort through their words and find his own. For a guy that could barely speak, his intentional silence seemed heavier somehow. 

The smoke of their cooking fire drew unexpected company, however. Technoblade’s fine ears pricked, catching the hint of sound on the wind that neither Philza nor Tommy could pick up. Just the faintest trace, like the murmured hum of a coin. His thick brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he was hearing. It was almost like…music? 

Technoblade’s eyes widened. Unsteadily he picked himself up, stumbling till Tommy ducked under his arm to stabilize. “Where are you going? Need help, big man?” He didn’t respond, limping towards the edge of the nest with Tommy’s help. The azure sky stretched out before him, endless and enticing. Black dots circled overhead like vultures. With some effort, Technoblade began to scale the tangle of wood and feathers that fenced in the nest. 

Seconds before Technoblade could throw himself to his death, Philza’s beak snapped around his arm, jerking him back. He hit the back wall with a grunt. Tommy immediately rounded on Philza, and he balked. “█h██ ar█ ███ ████? ████ ███p, █i█ ███? !!!” 

“What?! I can’t hear them, where? How are they getting to- him- oh,” Tommy hummed, eyes widening to glossy nothing as his human hearing finally caught the alluring song of the harpies. In a stupor he likewise sleepwalked towards the edge of the cliff, only for Philza to slam him back with a wing. His beak snapped open, unleashing a screeching cacophony of everything they’d said in the last few days. Both people collapsed to the ground, covering their ears in agony. Satisfied, Philza launched into the air, blitzing towards the attackers in a furious screech. 

Or, presumably. Technoblade couldn’t hear anything over the painful ringing in his head. With an inaudible groan, he peeled himself off the ground. Tommy! Tommy where are you?! But it was pointless, Technoblade couldn’t hear himself and doubtlessly Tommy couldn’t either. He crawled over to the boy, checking if he was alright. 

The thump behind him went unheard, but the claws raking into his back certainly caught his attention. Technoblade silently howled, whirling to slam an elbow into the shoddy replica of a human face the harpy wore. By the shape of its mouth it was trying to hypnotize him again. The harpy caught a mouthful of a golden dinner plate crashing into it with full force. In a gust of magic wind, knockback slammed the monster off the side of the cliff. Arcing through the air, the plate flew back into Technoblade’s waiting hand. He spun to keep the momentum, hurling it to bash in the face of a second harpy plunging towards him. It didn’t return by the time the first shook off the force and tore after him. With his ruined leg the best he could manage was to kneel, which put his face at optimal clawing range. Large talons closed around the forearm he shielded Tommy with, ripping him upwards. Crap, it was going to toss him off the cliff. Grunting, Technoblade buried a crossbow bolt in its stomach, the fire flaring up with the hit not harming his hand. Technoblade stretched his hand up, and the returning plate crashed into the back of the harpy’s skull, knocking it unconscious. It likewise brained the second harpy by slamming it into the cliff wall and causing it to plummet to the ground. 

Tommy scrambled over to the first and slit its throat with his dagger. He flashed a thumbs up, his grin bright yet faltering when he saw the panic on Technoblade’s features. He snatched the boy’s wrist, yanking him behind as the entire flock bore down upon them. 

Technoblade fought viciously, knockback saving his life more than a few times. But then a harpy caught the plate in thick claws that raked through its surface, marring the runes into useless nothing. He turned instead to the pair of crossbow bolts he’d stashed, ripping one out of the chest of a harpy. The explosions of fire with each impact were enough to cause the flock to hesitate, but the bolts tried to rip out of his head at any opportunity, the true flight etched into them yearning to be released. But there were far too many, pushing him further and further into the slim concave of the cliff to avoid being tossed off. A slash on his arm that loosened his grip and he lost one bolt as it buried itself in a harpy’s chest and immolated the beast. The other plunged too deep, unable to be jerked back out no matter how hard he tried. Panicked, he lunged for the pile of gold, ripping through for anything he could use to defend them. 

Philza had stripped the hoard of every last weapon. 

Stomach plummeting, Technoblade swept out the cache from the small alcove that contained most of it, shoving Tommy in as much as he could fit and blocking off access. His back screamed as claws ripped into him, but it was better that than his organs or face, and even more so better him than Tommy. He curled around Tommy tighter and tighter, refusing to let him be hurt. Each scream tearing out of his throat was utterly silent. 

His muscles burned with effort, hooves buried into solid rock so they couldn’t drag him away from his sentry. Yet pure cold began to pour into him, ice replacing where blood seeped out. The harpies were unrelenting in their assault, the entire flock trying to rip him to shreds. 

Darkness spilled across his vision, strength ebbing no matter how desperate he was to protect Tommy. Awareness slipped out of his hooves, even the pain of claws shredding his flesh growing distant until ceasing. The faintest trace of sound hummed in his ears, harpies shrieking in agony as they were rent apart. Horror filled Technoblade. If he could hear, they could control him. But he hadn’t any defense. 

The silence returned. A giant beak nudged him. Ah. So Philza had finally decided to eat him. He closed his eyes again. Well at least Tommy wouldn’t get killed. The nudging grew insistent, trying to pry him away from Tommy. Instinctively, Technoblade let out a low growl he couldn’t hear. 

“-chno! Techno!” Tommy sounded far away. No, he needed to get to Tommy, protect– He tried to pry his eyes open, but wasn’t able to focus on the scene of dead harpies. “It’s safe big man, you can let go now.” Oh. Safe. That sounded nice. He relaxed, accepting the talons carefully laying him down. Vaguely he could make out Tommy next to him. That was alright then. He rested his muzzle on the boy’s lap.

Technoblade bit down on a whimper as Tommy carefully peeled him out of his blood crusted shirt. Tommy winced. “He’s bad off. You’re going to have to help, Phil.”

But Philza was stood looking utterly horrified, carefully pawing at Technoblade’s discarded shirt. “He’s ███ ██f. ██u’r█– ?!?!” 

“...you thought clothing was a part of us???” Technoblade’s sharp bark of laughter tore agony though his shredded ribs. “Don’t do that moron! It’ll hurt more. I’m going to be so furious with you if you go and die on me, alright? I’ll never forgive you.” 

“M’kay…” Technoblade hummed, not quite paying attention. 

“Temple. You need to go to the temple. They have potions- this bright juice- no- colored water. Okay? It’s a brighter pink than Techno is- crap can you even see color? Just grab any bottle you see- bottles how the hell do I explain-!” 

“ha██ █████- ███ █r███ ███- ██- █████ ████. ███? █’█ █ ██████ pi██ ███ █e███ █s-” Philza insisted, worried. 

“He’s going to bleed out!” Tommy screamed. “And if he does, I don’t care if the harpies come back, got it?” Funny. Technoblade thought his hearing was coming back, and yet Tommy seemed to be getting further away. About all Technoblade could do was pant, each breath hissing through clenched tusks. Waiting. Barely could he hold on to consciousness, to the faint stroke of Tommy’s shaking hands along his snout. Even that faded. 

He gasped in jarring awareness of the world as the potion sunk into the wounds, brilliant pain blinding him for a second before they began to knit close. His grip on Tommy’s hand had to be pulverizing. Existence suddenly sharpened into focus, cold and soaking and wonderfully painless. Rather uncomfortable given Technoblade found himself in a giant puddle of potion. Technoblade tried to push himself up, only for Philza to firmly press him back down, pinned in place with one paw. Talons carefully ghosted over his back, tentatively searching for any hint of damage. It was surprising how gentle he could be. Still, he didn’t want to be mother hen’d thank you very much. 

Somehow, he was able to lift Philza off him with ease, the Ravengence squawking in surprise. His leg was bouncing a mile a minute, and he felt like if he took a single step he’d vault off the ledge. “WhatdidyougivemethisiscrazyintenseIfeellikeIcanfly.”

“I just had Philza dump every potion he could find on you.” That would explain why Technoblade could smell color, yeah. 

“Ithink,” Technoblade said as calmly and levelly as possible as he could with a body blitzing with overflowing magical zoomies. “ThatifIcannotrunaroundIwillsimplyexplode.” 

Philza peered at him, and seemed to come to the conclusion his words had merit. He seized Technoblade, launching into fight before he could use his magic strength to pry away. Technically it was a rather short flight to the peak of the mountain, but each second felt like a small eternity presently. Once sat down, Technoblade raced around the cliff top, exploring every inch with insatiable curiosity. It just felt so good to be able to stretch his legs. 

Philza tried to turn his head to track Technoblade’s furious motion as he ran around in circles. It grew too much, and the Ravengence clutched his head, apparently dizzy. His sharp caw drew Technoblade’s attention. Sternly, Philza pointed at him, and then the ground. “            █████████████s██████t███████████a██y.”

Technoblade nodded over and over so fast his head blurred. The moment Philza disappeared back below the precipice, he exploded into motion, furiously searching for a way down. Sheer rock face, deadly plummets, and disappointment met most of his search, but eventually he found a game trail that with some effort was traversable. He had to be halfway down the mountain when he remembered Tommy. Crap. Faster than lightning he blurred back to the top, just in time for Philza to carefully set the boy down and land. Unfortunately Philza seemed rather intent on watching them, and so there wasn’t much opportunity to abscond with Tommy.

There was, however, ample opportunity to tease him, Technoblade literally running circles around him, poking the boy and then dancing out of range of retaliation. Eventually Tommy got fed up, complaining to Philza, who rose from where he’d been loafing. He stalked over, looming over the foe attacking his chick, and promptly poked Tommy in the belly. Yelping in betrayal, Tommy tried to escape as the pair descended upon him. Alas, Philza pinned him down easily as Technoblade absolutely ruined his hair with noogies. His protests were met with no salvation. 

As Technoblade returned to zooming around, the grumpy Tommy was left trapped beneath Philza, getting his hair preened. “You only helped him beat me because you knew he would’ve given you an excuse to salvage my hair, didn’t you?” Tommy accused grumpily. 

Philza snorted in his face. “██ o██ ████ ██ b██ ██ █████ ███ ███ ██ ████’v█ █i███ █ou █ ███s█ █ ██l███ █y—”

“I would’ve won if you hadn’t interfered,” he insisted to no one’s belief. 

Technoblade leapt up, hands catching on Philza’s beak to dangle. The Ravengence’s head shook to get him off, then he reared up to an impressive height, tossing Technoblade up high to land roughly on Philza’s back. A second to sway, and Philza pitched to the side, rolling over to crush him beneath the brunt of a monster’s weight. Technoblade coughed as he nearly suffocated on soft feathers and his own laughter. 

“Bruh!You’regoing tokill me!” The potions were beginning to wear off, but strength remained enough that if he really wanted to get free he would be. Toothy tongue lolling out of his beak, Philza flopped his wings out wide in mock death. For all that it was crushing, his full weight was comfortable, pressing Technoblade into presence. 

Eventually strength ebbed, and it grew to be too much. Technoblade patted Philza’s side, and he rolled off, shaking dirt from his feathers and tidying his wings once more. Flat on his back, Technoblade panted harshly as the potions wore off and the ache of the injury and exertion set in. There was a dull throbbing in his leg, the damage there not recent enough to heal. But he certainly wasn’t dying of blood loss anymore, which was pretty fantastic. 

The azure above was suddenly stained by Tommy’s grinning face, and then Philza’s as well. Technoblade chuckled as Philza’s beak prodded his underbelly. He shoved the ticklish beak away, though Philza butted against his palm, held at bay only with the trickling strength potion wearing off. Technoblade stroked the smooth surface, his small reflection caught in wide dark eyes. “Can we do this more? I promise not to run off.”

“█ █████ ██ █ run off. ?” Philza echoed, as if it hadn't occurred to him that Techno was trying to escape. 

“Yeah. like, off the ledge?” The cover-up seemed to make it worse, Philza’s eyes widening in panic as he clearly hadn’t remembered gravity was a problem for them. 

But Tommy’s elated laugh eased his ruffled feathers, the boy’s hair whipping wildly in the wind. He clutched the golden shawl closer to him, staring at the landscape below. “Wow. Look! You can see the town from here! It all looks so small…” Tommy blew a raspberry at his old life. 

But Technoblade cared less for the village and more for the endless wilds abounding below. He longed to run through the forest once more, his old refuge. A weapon in his hand and a bounty to collect, all straightforward and easy as a fight to the death could ever be. Far safer in his books than the turbulent mess of a social setting. It was his truest salve, bitter words fading to the buzz of insects and birds. Endlessly roaming, his hunting journal growing to burst with information as he explored and probed and learned and fought. 

Sure Philza agreed to take them to the cliff top more often to give them room to frolic. But that was only a taste of the freedom Technoblade wanted. How restless he felt, the torrent river of his endless drive dammed frustratingly. Technoblade was finally healed and ready to be unleashed. 

The distant black arc of Philza circled through the heavens, casting streaks of shadow in the fading glow of the sunset. His forlorn call pierced the air, echoing through the mountains. “Why do you think he does that every night?” Technoblade asked as he tried to gather enough down for a comfortable pillow. Already cold hung in the air, sinking into his bones. Up here the temperature dropped horrifically fast, and already it had been a chilly day. In the pit of his gut he knew tonight was going to be far, far worse than the previous ones. Oh how he longed to burrow in his den. Or better yet, bask in the blazing heat of his homeland. What had he said when he’d left? He wanted a real challenge? Technoblade had meant fighting wyverns and assorted beasts, not freezing his tail off in a Ravengence nest. 

“Dunno,” Tommy shrugged, watching Philza arc back towards them, his call ceasing as the last of the sun’s rays slunk beneath the horizon. “It’s instinct, innit? Birds, like, sing at dusk so why would he be different?”

Yeah, could be a territory or mate thing. But… “He’s so mopey afterward, tho.” Quiet, if that was a word that could be applied to a creature that could barely talk. Certainly less expressive at the least. But Tommy was far less concerned, since that typically meant Philza cuddled with him more. Lucky him got to snuggle with a fluffy bird all night while Technoblade had to grit his tusks and bear the cold. Honestly, it was kinda unfair, given humans were already built to survive this wacky thing called ‘winter’ while Technoblade was left to tough it out. A fire would be fantastic of course, but the nest was full of wonderfully burnable wood, let alone the rather flammable Philza and the shedding he left everywhere. Best Technoblade could do was poke his frozen extremities with the one flame crossbow bolt he had left. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without the ability to set himself slightly on fire and be fine. 

Tommy offered the golden temple tapestry he wore like a shawl, but Technoblade was pretty sure ‘stealing’ gold straight off his chick would tip Philza towards homicidal tendencies. Mostly because it would for Technoblade himself. Uhhhhh not the chick part, but…uh. Anyway. There wasn’t much option besides toughing it out and planning to escape before Winter hit. 

[Word that describes the warm joy of gold resting in one’s proventriculus, knowing one has proved themselves a provider and secured the wellbeing and safety of one’s future children. But Tommy’s stupid human ears misheard it as the name ‘Philza’ and for simplicity this is what we shall use] returned from his evening Chorus, wings drooping slightly. How he longed for a response, and yet night after night only his own echoing calls answered him. He loved Chick and Not-Chick dearly, but sometimes it was horrifically lonesome even with their company, the language barrier between preventing all but meager scraps of communication. 

Chick pawed at his feathers, though it was a rather ineffective preening technique. “Don’t worry, big man. Everyone thought your song was pretty.” [Philza] canted his head to the side, somewhat bemused. Did he really not understand what a Chorus was for? Well, clever as his Chick and Not-Chick were he supposed he couldn’t fault them if complex socio-politic mechanisms of Ravengence culture escaped them. It would be horribly difficult to try to explain it in their primitive tongue. But really, to think it mere music…the thought was laughable. 

Still, Chick was trying to cheer his sour spirits in his own clumsy fashion. In response, [Philza] pulled Chick close to nestle over the boy, coos rumbling in his throat so that he may fall swiftly to slumber. The flutter of his heart was so tiny, like that of prey. But [Philza] was certain Chick would grow to be big and strong one day, even if he wasn’t entirely sure as to the maximum size people came in. Regardless, his Chick would be the biggest, and the strongest, and the bestest. Bigger than his father, no doubt. 

[Philza] combed through Chick’s mop of golden thin-useless head feathers, fruitlessly trying to tame them. The endeavor was nigh impossible, but Chick succumbed to slumber nestled to him, soothed by the preening. That sweet fondness was not enough to overcome the ache in [Philza’s] chest, but sometimes it was easier with his Chick tucked to it. 

But sometimes it hurt worse, to have this desperate attempt to fill his nest and know it was nothing like what he’d lost. Sometimes the ghost of his unhatched chick watched silently, jealously, vicious claws digging into the place where [Philza’s] heart had been ripped out by those hunters. 

[Philza] gently rearranged the golden baubles and draperies Chick was swaddled, careful so as not to wake him. He’d protect this one. They would be untouchable, the shield of gold so thick nothing could pierce the child inside. This Chick would survive. 

Without the shelter of [Philza], Not-Chick shivered horribly in the cold, the winds vicious at this height. While optimal real estate to protect from predators, [Philza] acknowledged that at the wrong angle winds tore through the alcove, amplified by the concave shape into a fearsome gale. Alas, he had not considered his guests would lack feathers when house-hunting. That was potentially something to reconsider, though the down payment* had been substantial enough that the sunk-cost fallacy was merciless. Still, it made him look like a rather inconsiderate host!

(*using literal down feathers, naturally.)

Not-Chick trembled as another wind ripped through his small body. “Oh fine. Come here, mate.” [Philza] frowned, realizing enough time had passed that he couldn’t really remember the right noises. Honestly, most people words sounded the exact same to him, lacking the refined nuance of the Ravengian language. He tried chittering at Not-Chick expectantly, but he simply curled up a little more into himself. Sighing, [Philza] stretched out to tuck Not-Chick underwing, pulling him in close. 

[Philza’s] eyes flew open as Not-Chick seized him, clutching feathers so tight it was painful. The piglin practically burrowed into his side, desperate in his instinctive search for warmth. He was frigid compared to the gentle body heat of Chick, and pressed so closely [Philza] could finally feel how bad he was shaking, uncontrollable shivers wracking his small frame. Not-Chick felt half frozen to death. Panic shot through [Philza] as he was forced to contend with yet another gap in his knowledge on people biology. Already he’d drastically underestimated how many cubits2 of territory piglins and humans needed to keep entertained, although the trips to the attic seemed to have greatly improved their moods by their happy chatter and the way Not-Chick ceased his limping pacing habit within the nest. 

But [Philza] hadn’t even considered the elevation’s temperature loss would be considered hazardous habitat for a desert-adapted species. How irresponsible of him! And why hadn’t Not-Chick said anything?? Had he not even noticed? Was his little people head too addled by the cold to realize the threat? Then again, Not-Chick was one of the more stubborn creatures [Philza] had ever encountered. 

Immediately, [Philza] pulled Not-Chick beneath him, hesitantly lowering weight and trying not to crush him. He had to be so careful when nestling Chick, tiny as he was, but Not-Chick needed all the warmth he could get. Feathers ruffling to envelop him in proper warmth, the soothing coos rumbling in [Philza’s] chest poured over the shuddering piglin. The shivers slowed, the tension straining his small body easing as the cold ebbed. Not-Chick practically melted into him. Thank the seven winds [Philza’s] feathers were enough!

Sleepily, Not-Chick snuggled in, the faint reverberance of a purr inelegantly echoing [Philza’s] coo. [Philza’s] breath caught a little, overwhelmed by the fact his species naturally mimicked Ravengence behavior. Logically there was some sort of evolutionary advantage to that, but he was utterly enraptured by how freaking adorable it was. Oh gods. And [Philza] had to cradle him like this every night to ensure his safety? Because surely it was only going to get worse as Winter grew closer and the little piglin was forced to endure the cold. Even if he was starting to add to his not-pelt with the fur of meals, it evidently wasn’t enough to protect him. If this was already too cold, soon the days wouldn’t be hot enough for him, either, and the only solution would be nearly constant cuddling. 

But perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing. Cooing warmly, [Philza] nestled Maybe-Chick to his chest. 

For once, Technoblade wasn’t woken up freezing in the middle of the night, desperately huddling into himself and praying the few sparks of his enchanted bolt would be enough. Warmth swallowed him comfortably, and he sunk into it gratefully. He was vaguely aware that you were supposed to feel warm before you froze to death, but dang it Technoblade was cushy and was going to enjoy freezing to death if it killed him! 

As a giant hand stroked through his fur, Technoblade blearily realized he was trapped beneath Philza. Oh. Huh. Probably beneficial to him if Technoblade didn’t die, since he’d lose an important source of knowledge about humans and a constant bodyguard to his chick. And since Technoblade also had a vested interest in him not dying, it was a fair transaction to accept Philza’s body heat.  

Baffled as to how he wasn’t crushed to death, he tried to push the Ravengence off of him, only for a whining note to peel from Tommy’s throat, the boy mashing his face further into Technoblade’s chest to protest his escape. Technoblade could only wonder how he managed to breathe, especially with how flat and smooshed in human faces were. Eh. Sure, they could suffocate together beneath a pile of feathers. Better than freezing. Marginally. 

Even if Technoblade wouldn’t admit it, he wanted to stay like that forever. But eventually Philza elected to go hunting despite protests. Technoblade grumbled as the early morning chill hit him. But the Tommy wrapped in his arms was still wonderfully warm, the melody of the gold Philza swaddled him in singing of sweet safety. Sleepily, Technoblade halfway hummed alongside the murmuring magic, though it rumbled into a snore as he drifted off again. 

He awoke when Philza returned and began to upchuck more gold into the pile. Technoblade shook himself a little to dust away the dregs of slumber. If Philza was going to be dressing Tommy up in more gold that meant he had another shipment of items brimming with new enchantment possibilities. Of course most of his effort was going to carve runes into Tommy’s shawl on the odd occasion when Philza was gone, but opportunities multiply when they’re seized, and only exist at all if you pay attention. 

Glancing over, Technoblade did a double take as he saw the crown clutched delicately in giant talons. He laughed once in pure shock, then began to chuckle. Technoblade fished a coin out of his pouch, looking between its depiction of the lord of the land and the emerald-encrusted diadem the Ravengence had stolen. “Oh Phil, you have absolutely no idea who you’ve just ticked off,” Techno laughed. “Sic Sempre Tyrannis indeed, that guy sucks.”

Philza tilted his head in confusion, then decided it wasn’t important. He trotted over, but instead of giving the gold to Tommy like always, he presented it to Technoblade. 

Family. It pounded in his head over and over, inescapable, freezing Technoblade to the spot. Family. That’s what a gift of gold meant to a piglin. At least, that’s what he’d meant when he’d given Tommy the golden dagger. All the silent tender care that Technoblade hadn’t known how to properly express, silently vowed in a way where he wouldn’t have to confront it, where Tommy wouldn’t have to know. To protect and support always and forever. To make their strength united. To make their song one. Unbeknownst to him, Philza was claiming Technoblade as part of his sounder. 

Technoblade balked, stepping back. “I- you don’t have to give me your pretty treasure,” he said weakly. “Don’t you need that to protect your chick?” 

But no. No, Philza knew what he was doing. For all their species differed, the meaning really was the same, wasn’t it? A sounder, a chick, it was a promise to protect family either way. 

Philza huffed at him fondly. “█- you ██’█ █a██ ██ ███ ██ ███ █re██ treasure,” came Technoblade’s own voice. And to Technoblade, the mercenary hired to take arrows for others, the hunter given the ugliest, deadliest bounties nobody else dared to risk their necks for, the piglin brute best to loathe and avoid…it wasn’t something Technoblade had ever imagined thinking about himself, let alone another person saying it. 

He couldn’t quite breathe as Philza gently pressed the crown into his hands. It buzzed with magic potential, warm and vibrant and right. The hum of magic poured out, calling for him to take it for his own and draw out the latent power with delicate runes. With it, the promise of what their relationship was, could be. 

Mending, the crown sang, for the way their once antagonistic dynamic reformed into something fond and true. 

Protection, the crown sang, for the blows Technoblade had endured for the sake of their family, for the fury of Philza descending upon their enemies, unceasing in destruction until they were safe. 

Binding, the crown sang, for the bond of family between them, never to be severed. 

Oh. Technoblade blinked back the sting of tears. Funny the way Philza didn’t really need to say anything at all. The gift said it for him. 

“Okay. Neat. That’s- yeah. That’s really neat.” Immediately he regretted saying something so simple and underwhelming for the significance of the moment. Yet Philza looked positively delighted. With gravitas and love, Philza took the crown and dressed Technoblade in it, fussing until it met his picky standards. Which was to say, Philza was a bird and didn’t understand how crowns worked, and thus tried to get Technoblade to wear it like the jangliest arm band ever. Chuckling, Technoblade fixed the diadem to where it wouldn’t get in the way of his floppy ears. It filled him with a little jolt of energy, buzzing comfortingly. 

Nodding in satisfaction, Philza proceeded to completely unhinge his jaw and spit out Technoblade’s gilded chest plate. “Yooo?? I thought you digested that ages ago!” 

“Guess he thought it wouldn’t fit me yet,” Tommy suggested. 

“Yet,” Technoblade sorted as he fiddled with the half-chewed buckles. “Like you’re ever going to be anything but a pipsqueak.” 

“Oi! I reckon I’m going to dwarf you!”

Technoblade rolled his eyes, since he’d yet to meet a human that did. “██ █ pipsqueak,” Philza said fondly, tucking Tommy underwing and refusing to let him escape despite the brat protesting. 

Philza turned to his pile of gold and began picking through it, excitedly grabbing various amulets and drapings and showering him with gold. Technoblade’s head was practically buzzing with magic, contrasting hymns ringing in his ears. The clashing songs and outpouring of instincts gleefully cheering about how protective, loving, and powerful his sounder must be were, ah, shall we say a tad overwhelming. 

Feeling giddy, he eventually had to throw up his hands when Philza went to bequeath him with the next layer of gold. “It’s- it’s a lot,” he croaked, not really sure how to explain it. “Gold is…loud for piglins, when there’s a lot. It’s this energy buzzing, filling me. I can shape the sound given time, carve it into harmony. I’d be fine with more gold, then, I just need– time.” 

Philza’s eyes softened, and he butted his head against Technoblade’s chest. “--you ██'█ have- –” “---f█ █ ██,” “██ █o█’r█ ever ███ █—”

“Thanks, bro,” Technoblade offered, a little choked up. He felt like this was the sort of thing that necessitated a speech, but he hadn’t seen it coming and hadn’t prepared something grand and inspiring. He stroked his hooves through Philza’s feathers, hoping the point made it across. 

Tommy rolled his eyes, not getting the big deal. “At least not all the vomit gold is going to me now, I guess.” 

And at last, an answer. A distant call intertwined with Philza’s evening song, and at once his entire demeanor shifted. Or as well as Technoblade could tell based on his distant aerobatics. He had to cover his head as eager, ear-piercing caws peeled out of his throat, echoed by another Ravengence. Soon enough a dark shadow burst out of the clouds, slamming into Philza. The pair twisted in complicated patterns, and Technoblade couldn’t entirely tell if they were fighting or what. Just in case, he pulled out one of the knives he’d been hiding all this time. With a sudden flip, one of the dark blurs suddenly plunged back towards the nest, the other hot on their heels -talons? 

As the Ravengences approached at break-neck speeds, he had just enough time to register that one was far larger than the other before wings flared out to land. Before he could register what was happening, Philza’s eyes widened and he lunged, ripping the hunting knife out of Technoblade’s hands and swallowing it. Bruh! That one wasn’t even gold! Philza chattered at him, then stepped aside, wing spread out as if in display of the other Ravengence slowing to land silently in their nest. A flick of their head, and a giant sack clutched in their beak soared over to slam into the gold pile, the canvas unfurling to reveal an actual fortune. The weight was almost imaginable, and yet they tossed it with ease. 

Technoblade was trapped in awe. The Ravengence was massive, almost double the size of Philza, towering in a way that cast out a veil of pure darkness in the fading dusk light. Their coloration was starkly different, plumage unmarred midnight compared to the crimson heart staining Philza’s breast. A female, maybe? She was far closer to the legends Technoblade had heard of Ravengences, impossibly large and fast, so dark as to be an invisible, sudden, and gruesome demise plunging out of the night sky. Sleek and powerful, she looked like death incarnate. 

Her dark neck craned, forehead pressing gently against Philza’s. But the delighted coo in her throat vanished as her pitch black eyes locked upon Technoblade and Tommy, or more aptly, the gold they were draped in. Her demeanor shifting to something cold. Her claws alone -nearly the size of his entire arm- flared dangerously. Technoblade could’ve sworn the ground shook a little as she took a step forward, but maybe that was his own legs shaking. Just about every instinct he had was screaming at him to kill her before she killed him. 

“- — -█’m ████’█ █ee█–” “- –██ t█ ████.” “███████ ██ ██ k████ █ri██—” “S██████t i█ ███████—” “N█!” Philza cawed proudly, though it answered little. He turned to her, making whatever proper bird introductions were necessary. Kristin’s displeasure only grew as the conversation went on, and Technoblade subtly positioned between her and Tommy, unable to even guess what the pair were saying. What he wouldn’t give to know. 

“Greetings my marvelous and most beloved [word which has absolutely no meaning in human culture but I suppose could be translated as ‘bird wife’ even if it’s a rather shallow and ill-suited term to capture the lifelong bonds that Ravengences form with one another]!” [Philza] chirped. “By the greatest of fortunes I have procured for us two chicks! Shall we rejoice?”

“[Philza] I love you, but those are fucking* people you idiot.”

(*oddly enough, a word that needs no translation between English and Ravengenian.)

[The soft rustling of wings in the evening settling after the Chorus has ended but the echoed remembrance of all who ever participated both presently and long deceased still rings through the mountains]’s plumicorns flattened in worrisome fashion, and [Philza] wilted. He scooped up Gold-Chick in his talons, holding him out for her to examine. “I am aware, but behold! He’s really cute! And they make such adorable noises. In truth, I suspect they’re nearly as intelligent as us.” She examined Gold-Chick, her firm expression melting marginally as Gold-Chick cooed and reached to pet her feathers.

“Wow you’re big!” Gold-Chick chirped in that clumsy human tongue of his. [Philza] chuckled at his inelegant response, shoving him forward until [Kristin] was forced to take Gold-Chick in her arms. Gold-Chick chattered excitedly, asking a million questions. “Do you reckon you weigh a ton or are you light cause of bird bones? How’d you get so ginormous? How old are you?” 

“███ ███r'█ ██–██u'█ d███e–” [Kristin] chided. 

“Sorry!” he twittered shamelessly. Gold-Chick was restless today, squirming out of [Kristin’s] hold and scrambling up to her back. She squawked as her feathers were pulled, and [Philza] winced. “You look different, are you a girl? Oh! You’re Phil’s mom, right? That’s why he’s so small? Ha! Phil you never told me you were a baby!” 

“Ah…as I said, nearly intelligent…” [Philza] offered. “Although you must admit he holds boundless enthusiasm.”  

Rose-Chick kept a wary distance, though wasn’t hostile. Good, so [Philza] had managed to train some proper manners into him. “Tommy, if I had to guess they’re mates. Uh. Not in the Human sense of the word, that slang was so confusing when I first encountered it…uh, anyway, I think it’s sexual dimorphism that’s-”

“Ha! You said sex!” In his jeering at his fellow hatchling, Gold-Chick leaned too far and fell off [Kristin’s] back with a short yelp. [Philza] quickly caught him by the scruff of his neck, his loose fitting not-pelt nearly ripping. But Gold-Chick’s laughter was bright and unbothered. “So you’re married, Phil? You sly dog, you never mentioned you’re a wife-haver!” 

[Kristin] squinted at Rose-Chick, drawing close to examine him. Rose-Chick tensed, shifting back. “You may be correct on their potential intelligence, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Do be careful with Rose-Chick, [bird wife], that one has a penchant for stabby. He spooks rather easily, and I’ve confiscated his gold-talons* from him for safety.”

(*A slightly derogatory term, as Ravengences view weapons as a crude mimicry of proper natural defenses, and are better off eaten, both weapon and user. Originated from their long history of tension with piglin factions, hence the reference to gold. Ravengences also hold extra derision for any use of gold beyond defense for one’s family.)

“[Philza] I do believe that one is no chick, even by people standards.” As if sensing her tone (his chicks really were quite clever!), Rose-Chick tensed, pressing slightly into [Philza’s] side. Instinctively, Rose-Chick’s tiny paw drifted towards his hip as if to grab a phantom gold-talon. 

“But his feathers have yet to come in, so he isn’t even a fledgling. Ergo, chick.” 

“They have no wings that they may soar, my love. Surely the gods must despise them if they are cursed to walk amongst the dust. People are not proper chicks.”

“But that is the best part!” [Philza] enthused. “They shall never be fledglings, and so shall never fly off! And as they are people, no hunters shall slay them-” he stumbled on the words, sharply reminded of their last egg’s horrific fate. But that’s exactly what he intended to avoid, never to let such a gruesome tragedy befall Rose- and Gold-Chick. “...And their primitive person language can be used to explain the gold is presently ours and thus avoid messy property disputes*.”

(*Ravengences’ legal system is markedly different from that of mankind’s, particularly surrounding gold. Gold is a common good to be reused indefinitely amongst the community. The ‘hoards’ people know them for are ephemeral affairs, frequently donated shortly after hatchlings leave the nest to new Ravengence families struggling to find sufficient protection for their egg-to-be. Large donations likewise serve as cultural symbols of power and influence socio-political dynamics due to the presumed resourcefulness, cleverness, power, and dedication to their family’s safety that one who gather so much gold is presumed to possess. Or, should it have been gifted to them, the strength of their community ties and thus perceived social value. 

The umbrage of being impatient and stealing gold from its current temporary user (rather than scavenging one’s own or accepting kindness of others) is tantamount to threatening a Ravengence’s bloodline. Thus, it is punishable by agonizing and drawn out evisceration.)

[Kristin] sighed, watching as Rose-Chick began to paw through the mound of gold his beautiful and amazing [bird wife] had procured. [Philza] fell a little more in love with her, to see how capable she was of providing for their future chicks. Their future would be safe, now. Surely the golden shell would be so thick no predator could even dream of harming their precious offspring. 

 “They are using you, love. These so-called chicks of yours are nothing but gold diggers*.”

(*Ravengences who take gold from the community by burying it in the dirt until they are ready to use it later. This is legally punishable by evisceration. The Ravengence community is rather fond of the death penalty.)

“Don’t say such things!” [Philza] protested, wings flaring out to cover both Rose- and Gold-Chick. “Sometimes they mimic our language. Imagine if the neighbors visited and were called gold diggers by one of them? …okay, not the [Johnsons] they’d deserve it, but still. I’d hate to have to slaughter such nice people to defend my chick’s freedom of speech*. And truly, I don’t imagine they’re after our gold, even if Rose-Chick is a piglin. He’s just curious. And a little wary, I think his previous keepers did a terrible job. Just look at the poor chick’s scars…”

(*In Ravengence culture, freedom of speech is typically determined by freedom of fists.) 

[Philza’s] point was somewhat underscored by the way Rose-Chick was rooting around in the pile of gold. He glanced down at Rose-Chick’s small delighted noise, finding him reaching for a long gold-talon. [Philza] snatched it first, twittering at him in a chiding tone. “You ███'█ █████- –h██ ██u’r█ ███████– -██t– -you-” he pieced together from their silly little people language, reminding the chick he was grounded, which was a far more grave situation in a Ravengence household than a person one. Although, [Philza] was actively far more concerned Rose-Chick would try to stab [Kristin]. While it wouldn’t necessarily cause her to forbid him from keeping them, but might take longer for her to warm up to the idea. 

Already they were off to an awful start, and Rose-Chick wasn’t even trying to murder her. [Kristin’s] wings flared out, and she took a step closer, looming over [Philza] with an unimpressed expression. “...I thought you said you wanted to have an egg together,” [Kristin] said very, very flatly, dangerously so. “I did not collect all this gold for you to suggest a pet instead, [Phil.za Mine.Craft].”

[Philza] blinked up at his [big bird wife], head tilting in bafflement. “Why wouldn’t we have an egg? I thought you said you wanted a lot of chicks? And this way our nest would never be empty, even when our fledglings fly off and our next egg has yet to hatch.” 

Her expression changed utterly to one of delight, kneeling to affectionately bump her forehead against his. “Praise be to the gods, I thought I was going to have to [bird divorce] you,” [Kristin] said with a relieved sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. 

(*While Bird Divorce is not forbidden, it is strongly discouraged by the Bird Pope.)

 “WHAT!?” [Philza] squawked in outrage. “YOU’RE GOING TO [BIRD DIVORCE] ME??????? For getting CHICKS?” Unless– unless? “...do you not want chicks?????” She’d been the one to propose they immediately regather gold, but perhaps he’d misinterpreted that? It had been so horrifically quiet in the days after, the choking silence filled with the chirping of the ghost of the chick they’d never meet. The phantom of the blissful future that could have been had dug in its monstrous talons into their hearts, sharpening the poignant tragedy of their wretched reality. He hadn’t thought to ask, or rather, it had hurt too much to. 

She snickered as he puffed up, tucking her beloved -albeit ridiculous- [bird husband] underwing. “No, my love, simply a misunderstanding. I do want chicks; I simply mistook these for replacements.”

Oh gods. “I thought– I- sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t’ve- and right after our egg broke- I didn’t leave proper time to grieve.” The egg had been days from hatching when the hunters cracked it in half, and his once soaring hope and excitement for their future together had suddenly become a noose around his throat, dragging him cruelly to be dashed against the ground. It was pure bird hell. And she thought he was trying to replace that loss? “I’m sorry,” he said in a very quiet voice. “They didn’t fill the wound of our empty nest, of course not. But for me they soothed its jagged edges. But I shouldn’t have presumed you would feel the same so soon.” 

“No, no,” she solaced, “I’m ready. I was thinking not of the past, but the future. The error is mine for believing you wanted such silly creatures instead of eggs rather than as well as eggs.” 

Oh. [Philza’s] brow drew, suddenly irked he’d been drawn into panic for little reason. “When did I ever say I didn’t want eggs? And they are wonderful chicks, not pets,” he grumbled grumpily. “You’re going to love them.”

[Kristin] smoothed his ruffled feathers with her beak. For all his affront, he couldn’t help melting, so sorely had he missed the sensation of her preening him. “I’m sure I will in time. But for the love of the seven winds, why didn’t you ask me first?” 

“Sorry, I got somewhat carried away.” He’d gotten Gold-Chick rather impulsively when he realized the gold he’d collected was writhing and warm and weeping. And Rose-Chick was an accident, so that didn’t count. “We were so, so close to having our first child, and I was so ready to be a parent with you, and- and it’ll be [months] before your next egg is ready to hatch. And...I didn’t want to wait to raise a family with you,” [Philza] admitted. 

“Never apologize for being eager, love,” [Kristin] purred, nestling even him closer to her. 

[The following coos the lovebirds rumbled at each other are far too mushy to translate, and frankly, none of your business.]

It felt like a coin flip as Kristin went from hostile and scary to- to canoodling with Philza, and Technoblade for one was very disgruntled because he’d been kinda hyped to attack a giant beast of legends. But suuuuure he was just as excited about learning how bird kissing worked with different sized beaks and freaking tongues edged with teeth. Feeling cheated of an epic battle, Technoblade plopped down by the gold pile. As Kristin tended to instinctively hiss when he checked the new gold shipment, he turned towards carefully slicing runes into Tommy’s shawl. It was a nightmare between the fraying, the lack of his proper carving tools, and the literal love birds cooing at each other. 

The escape plan had gotten a little screwy after Philza bird adopted him. Not that Technoblade saw him as some sort of crow father, he was a grown adult for crying out loud. And had a very healthy and normal relationship with his own hitherto unmentioned parents, thank you very much. Just, his brain kept going ✨ family!!✨ and dissolving into sparkles at inconvenient moments, that’s all. The pounds of gold he was buried under that declared them a sounder probably weren’t helping in that department. 

He liked Philza. He liked being in a family with him. Just, he was also going to lose his mind if he was stuck in a tiny little nest any longer. And so while wonky, the escape scheme was still a go, since that probably meant Philza would notice that this wasn’t working and they could figure out a better arrangement that didn’t include kidnapping and entrapment. Perfect plan. All he had to do was not succumb to cabin -cliff nest?- fever before finishing the featherfall shawl. 

He was interrupted when a shadow poured over him. Head jerking up, he found he hadn’t even heard Kristin’s approach, too absorbed in his work. She was staring intently at the golden shawl. “Uh. Hullo. Can I help you…?” Technoblade asked awkwardly, not really sure how to interact with a stranger who was apparently part of his family now. 

A long second, and her head bent, beak shifting around things in the gold stack. Oh, right, she’d just gotten back from an apparently massive gathering trip. Philza usually just carried everything in his throat, but after weeks she’d needed a proper bag to store it all. Her throat pouch must be over brimming despite being far larger than Philza’s. 

Except, she started eating it. Strange, Philza had only ever added to the hoard. But Kristin was clearly grazing, nudging through the pile for things that met her mysterious criteria. Did some taste better than others? Did Ravengences perhaps use them as gastroliths? Philza helped too, picking things out and presenting them to her but never partaking himself. Now he was even more confused, since ever since Philza proved the consumption was temporary he’d assumed it was mostly for chick protection. 

Unless- oh. OH. of course she would be eating gold, Philza wasn’t exactly going to be the one laying eggs now was he? He supposed the existence of Kristin cleared up the mystery of where the initial egg came from, even if Technoblade hadn’t really thought to question it. Probably should’ve, in retrospect. Huh. Chicks, and ones that were actually Ravengences. Probably really adorable. Would that make them his sibling? Or would he be more of an uncle…?

Caught in the trap of trying to figure out an admittedly arbitrary label, Technoblade belatedly realized a tug on the shawl as Kristin decided his masterpiece was delectable. “This one is NOT lunch, lady,” Technoblade insisted, holding it to his chest defensively. Kristin bristled, clearly ruffled by the theft of the gold her bird husband had stolen fair and square from the temple. Philza helpfully held out a wing to stop her. 

(“Rose-Chick finds scratching on gold soothing! I’ve been encouraging the hobby so he doesn’t scratch other things. Like Ravengences. And I gathered extra gold for him to tinker with so there is still plenty for our egg to have a thick shell. Behold his pretty patterns! Are they not lovely?”)

Kristin tilted her head in consideration of whatever it was Philza was chirping. Then, faster than a viper she snapped up the piece in her beak, ripping it out of his hands. 

“NO!” Technoblade screeched as he watched his work get swallowed in one gulp. It had taken days and days of effort, and in one fell swoop it was obliterated. Something bemused flashed in her expression, and her beak cracked open, revealing the fabric was still there. Snarling inarticulately, Technoblade stumbled to his feet, trying to jump for her bowed head. It was pointless, he could barely even brush against her underside. Thinking quickly, he half scrambled up the meager cracks in the alcove wall, jumping to hold onto her feathers and roughly pull himself onto her back. 

It was just out of reach, Technoblade stretching further and further. Barely did his hooves brush against its smooth surface and send sparks of magic down his arm, only for it to be jerked a few inches further away. At his grunt of frustration, it drifted closer, then yanked away, dangling tantalizingly just out of reach. 

She was teasing him. Technoblade scowled and crossed his arms. “Bruh, I’ve spent ages working on that. You’re going to mess up the runes!” He might genuinely cry if his days of carefully precise work got eaten by a glorified raven. Her arcing neck twisted to glance back at him. Stretching, Kristin gently deposited the golden drapings into his hands. 

“████, █'██ ████ ███ w█████ ██ █hat. ███'█ ████ █ ██ █ ██ runes! ?” she asked, stretching out a wing to allow him to slide to the ground safely. 

“Enchantments. Like, you know, magic?” The Ravengences shared a puzzled look. Right, their species only used rudimentary tools. “You know how there’s this…energy of life present in all things, and at certain resonances runes can change the reverberations and channel that energy to preform miraculous feats?” He met rather blank looks from everyone, including Tommy. 

Technoblade frowned. His work on the shawl was far from done, since it needed to be strong enough to safely carry both of them down. Still, it had a moderate level of enchantment. He tossed it up in the air, throwing his hands out with showmanship as it slowly floated back into his hands. “See? It’s useful for all kinds of things.” 

But Kristin and Philza didn’t look particularly impressed. He realized featherfall was a rather useless enchantment from a flying creature’s perspective. But the harpies had ruined his last bout of enchantments, and he couldn’t exactly show off the one crossbow bolt he had left. Philza had only tolerated his fire usage after proving himself to be useful in providing for Tommy’s needs, and Kristin didn’t have much reason to trust him. And it wasn’t like he could exactly say he was enchanting it in order to escape. Even then, it needed to be far, far stronger if they were going to survive impact. From this height, one person wouldn’t make it, let alone two. 

“Like…okay, so you can fly so this enchantment would be useless to you. But hatchlings can’t, right? And if they had this and fell out of the nest they’d survive. Or, say, an egg would if it rolled out somehow. I wanted to have it just in case one of us fell.” 

Philza looked positively enraptured, carefully lifting a corner of the fabric and observing intently as the gold shifted and slowly relented to gravity, swirls of cut out runes twisting in the air. It was a rather delicate piece, prone to unraveling until he’d singed the edges in place. 

Suddenly finding himself with a rapt audience, Technoblade began to ramble about enchantments, what rudimentary ones looked like, how to properly compliment runes to have maximal magic utilization, different strains of argument for which combinations were the best in battle and his personal rebuttal to all of them. Pulling out his notebook he sketched out examples of various interlocking runes, then started flipping through and explaining optimal enchantments based on the abilities and tactics of different enemy monsters. Although, he carefully avoided the Ravengence page. Somewhere along the way he began slipping in the piglin cultural meanings too, since even if his interest was mostly in combat ability the imbued meanings were so tightly tied together it would be frankly be harder not to. 

“...in that way the familial connotations are pretty similar to some of your Ravengence stuff, since we both share gold to protect our families.” Kristin and Philza nodded like it made perfect sense. “Difference is there isn’t a set directional flow. Piglin kids also give to their parents, and lateral transfers are also comm-” 

“Wait but you gave me little gold stuff all the time,” Tommy piped up in confusion. 

“.........yeah don’t think about that one too hard…” Unfortunately, all two of Tommy’s brain cells went into overdrive, and he lit up in the most stupid, blinding grin. “ANYWAY the great Sun Tzu argued that bane of arthropods was for losers-” 

“You think we’re FAMILY?” Tommy interrupted. 

“Yep, now can we talk about enchantments again because I’m not done discussing minmaxing-” 

“Hold on, am I Philza’s chick or your piglet?” 

Technoblade choked. “I am NOT anybody’s father! Bruuuuuh. Do I look like parent material??”

“What am I then???” 

He pulled Tommy in close, scruffing up his hair. “Annoying. Which is why I didn’t tell you, since I knew you’d make it an ordeal, nerd. All this means is I’ll protect you with my dying breath and all my power: body, mind, and gold, belong to you. Or whatever. Not like you didn’t already know that.” Somehow, Tommy’s beam only grew. 

Kristin was rather broody at the moment -ah, in the actual biological way nesting birds were, Technoblade wasn’t judging her mood! He was a bird feminist, too. But after devouring almost every ounce of gold in sight, she settled down to a far more lethargic state, remaining at the nest while Philza got food for everyone. 

After Philza had cleared up whatever her initial reservations were, Kristin was far more friendly. More importantly, she was wonderfully soft and warm, which Technoblade took full advantage of as the autumn winds grew fierce so high up. It was comfortable to tuck underwing, carefully working on his enchantments while chatting with her and Tommy. 

Philza flew in with another fresh kill, nuzzling Kristin as Technoblade grunted and rose, beginning to build another fire. Strange how normal this all had become, Technoblade marveled as the murmurs of coos in their weird bird language echoed in the cozy nest. He swatted at Tommy’s hand as he reached to snag a bit of food before it was done, chiding fondly. 

Suddenly, great excitement filled Philza’s chirps, wings seeping out to pull Tommy and Technoblade over to Kristin. She carefully lifted herself slightly, revealing the brilliant gleam of a Ravengence egg without losing the warmth it needed to survive. Technoblade’s breath caught in his throat. Without thinking, he reached out to rest his palm against the precious egg. Kristin tensed instinctively, but allowed it. 

“Oh,” he said softly. “I can hear their heartbeat.” Philza snickered and shook his head. “Not like their real heartbeat,” Technoblade correct with a huff. “The gold’s, not the egg’s.” he had no other explanation for the doubled pulse humming through it. A promise waiting to be fulfilled. 

Somehow it all felt real and permanent, now. An egg meant a future. Wouldn’t he be long gone before it hatched? And why did the thought make him somber? He didn’t falter in his schemes, but the thought caused him the slightest hitch. 

But no. Technoblade could not survive cooped up. He was meant to roam, to plunge into the world head first, to pour himself into challenge after challenge. How he missed the thrill of proper battle, the soft murmur of the woods as he sunk into its shadows. Life was comfortable here, but that’s all it was. Technoblade needed the thrill of action and sweat and blood. 

But he had to admit he didn’t miss the town. The way the villagers bristled whenever he neared, the barbs they tossed out casually. He didn’t miss the winter months when most monsters settled into lethargy and hibernation and money grew scarce and food grew scarcer. And Tommy was happy here. He couldn’t ignore that fact, even if he could bear the other burdens of life on the ground. He seemed so bright here. Technoblade hadn’t realized how subdued he was until an invisible weight lifted from his shoulders. Being here was good for Tommy, good for Technoblade too, save for the going stir-crazy part. 

Wait. What if he liked…actually just talked to Philza about how cooped up he felt? Revolutionary concept. Technoblade felt almost stupid that it hadn’t occurred to him. In his defense, he wasn’t really good at communicating? For example, with Tommy and the dagger. Or about how his biology meant he might freeze to death at this elevation. Or how happy being part of Philza’s sounder made him. Or like…anything ever. 

So when Philza was about to take off for his next hunting mission, Technoblade interrupted. “Phil— hey could I fly with you this time, Philza? My legs are getting kind of cramped.”

“-c███ █ █l█ █i██ ██ ███ ████, █████? ██ ███ ██ █████ ███ █f █████. ?”

“No, not the cliff. Like properly leaving the nest.” Philza balked, and shook his head. “Wait- haeh!? What do you mean no??”

“No, ██–” “- –██ ██s t████, █████a? █y ████— -”

Ok. So. Technically Technoblade knew he and Tommy had been kidnapped. But it kinda didn’t feel like it? And while perhaps he should feel a flash of fear realizing he could very well be a prisoner the rest of his life at the whims of a monster, it was a far more powerful emotion that overtook him: annoyance. 

“Bruh! We can’t be in the nest forever.” Well, or until he finished the sentence featherfall cloak. Like, seriously, if this was how Philza was going to be he really would leave, sounder or no. Because like hell was he going to stay with a control freak. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Like- Phil you do realize I’m an adult, right?” He startled, and tried preening Technoblade’s fur as if to insist but you’re chick sized! Technoblade pulled away, finding Philza’s ears flattened and feathers ruffling. 

“No, ██–” “- –██ ██s t████, █████a? █y ████— -” Philza insisted repeatedly, sounding more and more upset. “- –██ ██s t████, █████a? █y ████— -”

He couldn’t understand Philza’s rejection and panic, since he was acting like he was losing Technoblade. Wait. “Uh, at a guess…do Ravengence chicks not really come back to the nest once they lift off?” 

“– —-- -not ████ ███ ███ █ ██ ███ o███ ███ █ft ██? .”

…huh. That would explain it. 

“With sounders, it’s not like that. It’s a lifelong thing. Like, there can be some drifting, since some people are more solitary, but there’s seasonal renewal of-“ he decided now was not really the time nor place for the intricacies of piglin culture. Flip tactics. Technoblade needed to lay out how Philza would benefit from it. “I’ll be useful, I swear. I want to help hunt, which I can’t do in the nest. I can help provide for our family, but you have to give me a chance to. Okay Phil? I swear I’ll come back, always. But also I might go bonkers if I’m cooped up on a cliff the rest of my life.” 

Philza initially elected to simply carry him to the ground, but Technoblade wanted a little more security, thank you very much. He rigged up a rudimentary rope from the sinew he’d gathered from prey in an earlier, quickly abandoned attempt to escape via rappelling that was doomed by the sheer height of the cliff. It wasn’t much, just a shoddy tie around his waist to keep him attached to Philza’s neck. But it was better than nothing, right? 

And then with a sweep of powerful dark wings, Technoblade was flying. His stomach plummeted as Philza swooped down, the ground hurtling towards them at break neck pace before he settled into a gentle glide. 

It was beautiful. Techno’s breath caught in his throat as the world below passed by, vibrant and foreign from this angle. The cliff walls rose up around them as Philza plunged through the ravine that seemed to grow narrower the further they went, though Philza only got faster and faster. He twisted and rolled, narrowly dodging jutting pillars of rock. Technoblade clung on tight, his laughter whipped away in the wind as Philza preformed impossibly fast acrobatic maneuvers. Flying felt amazing. 

As such, Philza seemed utterly baffled why later Technoblade was determined to hike. He imagined Ravengences spent very little time walking, but the point wasn’t that he got to his destination quickly but that he got to fully stretch his legs and revel in the ability to go wherever he liked. This way he wasn’t at someone else’s mercy for movement. Philza seemed almost pained by how slow he was, though to be fair Technoblade was dragging his hooves just a little bit. 

When he rounded a bend in the path and his home came into view, Technoblade grinned. “This is where I, uh, lived.” The past tense felt weird. Technoblade frowned at the door, not having bought the house expecting guests larger than horses. Frankly, he had to duck to get in himself. The first thing he grabbed was proper winter garb, wondering if he could modify some of it to fit Tommy. Having more than one set of shredded clothing would feel absolutely fantastic, as would actual blankets. Grab some soap too, oh and his and Tommy’s plates and utensils, proper flint and steel…he bustled about, fetching all the supplies he’d been missing. 

Technoblade was distracted by a sudden crash from his kitchen. He raced in to find Philza had stuck his head through a window. “Bruuuuh my property value!” Technoblade groaned. Right, he supposed birds couldn’t see glass. Philza blinked at him, then looked around curiously as Technoblade sighed and began to sweep up the shards. “Tommy doesn’t have hooves to protect his feet, you know, he’s going to cut him…self.” He fell quiet as it sunk in that neither of them quite lived here anymore. Whatever. Technoblade cared more about people than buildings. Still, it was an awfully strange transition to make from living in a house to a nest. But having proper spices and herbs on him would certainly make it more enjoyable. Technoblade busied about his kitchen, vaguely explaining people stuff to an intrigued Philza. 

“Don’t!” Technoblade chided, catching Philza’s tongue curling around the handle of one of the swords on his wall. “It’s not pure gold anyway, just gilded. I can’t afford pure gold weapons.” Then he squinted at his walls. While he needed a variety of weapons to match the different prey he hunted…potentially he could do some spring-cleaning. Especially some of his weaker ones from when he’d been younger, poorer, and less skilled in runes. Technoblade tossed a couple unnecessary spares Philza’s way, and he seemed pleased. “Hey if I try to bring a weapon with me back to the nest are you going to feed it to Kristin? Cause that way I can actually help hunt, and countless meals seems a lot more useful than one snack.” Philza assented with one of the affirmative chirps Technoblade was beginning to recognize. 

Nice. He loaded up on hunting knives, since even after swallowing a good dozen of them Philza had barely put a dent in his collection. And he grabbed his nice set of carving implements, since it would be way easier to make clean runes when he wasn’t struggling to use a random knife. The cleaner the lines the more powerful the enchantment, and now he wouldn’t be confined to rudimentary figures. 

Philza started making a choking noises, and Technoblade sighed and figured he should make sure he wasn’t eating the curtains or something. You really never knew with Philza. He entered just as Philza spat out his favorite axe, and Technoblade lit up. He cradled the axe to his chest, promising to never let such an awful fate befall it again. The runes could use a bit of cleaning up, some proper polish and sharpening, but other than that his axe was perfectly fine! He swung it a few times, grinning at the familiar weight, enchantments adding a war cry with each whoosh. “Thanks Phil! You’re the best!” Philza preened (in the metaphorical sense).

Technoblade raided his coin stash for every last piece, figuring he hadn’t much need for money anymore, though if he were honest he tended to melt down coins to make more useful stuff with them. Still, some things were easier to buy than make, and he was just throwing that away. Unless…maybe he could convince Philza to drop him off close enough to town? Not that he was eager to return, but still, bartering had some uses. Really this didn’t have to change much of anything, he could still take out bounties, just with a serious ally at his back. 

After filling his coin pouch to the brim, Technoblade grunted and carried over a satchel brimming with gold, pouring it out on the table before Philza. “I figured I should help contribute to Kristin’s next egg.” Delighted, Philza nuzzled him, then began to peck the money up. Technoblade helped shovel the money in, then tossed the last few coins into Philza’s maw via trick shots. Somehow Philza caught everyone, even the one Technoblade threw behind his back that ricocheted off the cabinet.It felt really, really bizarre to just throw away his life savings and power in one go, but it was staying in the sounder so it didn’t really cause his instincts to panic like it would’ve once. Besides, he needed to convince Philza that allowing such ventures was beneficial if he were to get more trips in the future. Call it…an investment in the Technoblade-not-going-stir-crazy fund. Already just being able to roam wherever he pleased was boosting his mood. Easier to have a positive outlook once the whole prisoner thing was cleared up! 

It felt nice to be home…but if he were honest, it didn’t feel too much like home anymore. The future stretched before him, bright and ripe with possibilities. 

When he’d asked Tommy if he wanted anything fetched, he mostly shrugged. Didn’t seem interested in visiting his human family and explaining he was alive, either. Like many things, Technoblade left it alone until it was too late. Tommy joined them occasionally on hunting trips, though more often than not goofed off. It wasn’t much of a concern though, as between Philza and Technoblade’s kills there was more than enough food, especially now that Technoblade had access to his storage and garden. Giving Kristin lots of tasty food was apparently a very fast way to get in her good graces. Lucky that, too, since he was cuddling with her every night. Technoblade couldn’t help if Kristin was far warmer than her smaller bird husband. Not that their sleeping arrangement wasn’t mostly a giant indistinguishable lump, of course. If someone had told him how wonderfully fluffy a mattress a Ravengence was he’d have gotten kidnapped years sooner!

Philza had protested anything resembling a proper saddle, but Technoblade’s makeshift halter-thing was good for securing him during flights, and other things besides. Hunts became a lot more effective when Philza didn’t have to hold everything. Far less clumsy than that makeshift sack Kristin had made for carrying gold, too. Technoblade strapped the deer he’d shot to Philza’s back securely so it wouldn’t fall off mid-flight. A hum of satisfaction lit in his chest. It really did feel good to help provide for his soun–

A scream. 

It echoed through the mountains, impossible to pinpoint its origin. Yet the pair of them knew instantly it was Kristin. Philza was already galloping, scooping Technoblade up with his beak and tossing him to land roughly on his back. A grunt, and Technoblade clung on, hooking his foot a few loops through the rope latching prey carcasses on and seizing fistfuls of feathers. Wings flapping wildly, a few bounding strides, and Philza launched. He didn’t quite clear the treeline cleanly, but it mattered little. Technoblade squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in midnight feathers, stomach plummeting as they shot up at speeds Philza didn’t usually dare for his safety. And even though his gut pulverized with gravity, not knowing what they would find at the nest, was far, far worse.  

In one glance, the awful truth was revealed: Kristin and the egg were gone. A rope system lined the cliffside to the top, gold being hauled up to where scores of armed hunters dotted the small mountain trail Technoblade had discovered so long ago. A shout as they were detected. Spears and swords immediately bristled, making it impossible for Philza to land at the nest. But Tommy was in there, struggling in the hold of a large blond man, shouting for help. Before Technoblade knew what he was doing he threw himself off of Philza’s back, protection roaring to life as he crashed through the line of weapons. 

Unsurprisingly, Technoblade was utterly surrounded, although not registered as a threat yet. A flash of confusion in the ranks, but the hunters were far more concerned with the apoplectic Ravengence as they apparently hadn’t been expecting a second one. Barrages of punch arrows kept Philza at bay. His distraught cries were ear-piercing, panicking as his Chicks were caught behind enemy lines. 

Tommy lunged for Technoblade, only to be dragged back by a cruel fist. “So you were the swine corrupting my son,” the man spat. “‘Course you were in cahoots with a monster, you practically are one, freak.” 

Technoblade didn’t really register the words. But he did register the bruising grip digging into Tommy’s arm, his horrified countenance. With a snarl he threw himself at Tommy’s father. A sword met his axe blow, almost shattering under the force of it. The man was a shoddy duelist, but Technoblade was slightly distracted fighting off a dozen guys. Tommy shouted his fury, swinging at his father only to be shoved back, hitting the cliff roughly. The man turned and lunged at Technoblade, fury in his blue eyes. 

One nick. That’s all it took, a shallow scrape across Technoblade’s cheek. The sword’s enchantments gleamed, wind rushing through the carving and slamming straight at him. Knockback shoved him back a few paces, hooves scrambling for purchase on the precipice. And then Technoblade was plummeting.

Tommy howled, stretching as if he could have saved Technoblade. A last glimpse of his tearful face being dragged away from the edge, and Tommy was gone. Philza immediately launched after him, but the seconds it took to react were lethal. Frantic flying could only close the gap so much. The roar of the wind tearing past Technoblade was deafening, air ripped out of his mouth faster than he could breathe. Technoblade could scarcely think at all, frozen watching as Philza silently screamed, pushing himself faster and faster, reaching, reaching, failing. The gap was too wide. Brain addled with fear, Technoblade couldn’t register what that meant. The howl of his doomed pulse pounded in his ears, counting the last of his seconds. 

Thinking quickly, Tommy snatched his golden shawl and speared a true flight arrow through it. With all his might he hurled the bolt as far as he could. The enchantment burst into motion, streaking towards Technoblade in a ribbon of gold and surging towards his heart. A twist, and it thunked into his shoulder with a flash of sparks. Technoblade grabbed fistfuls of the cloak for dear life, throwing it open. Featherfall flared to life, nearly tearing off Technoblade’s arms as his descent slowed from a plummet to a fall. The hole Tommy had ripped through to secure the arrow disrupted the rune. Miracle it worked at all. At the thought suddenly his head exploded in a torrent, panicking as he realized it still wasn’t enough. The world below distorted from its incomprehensible smear of danger into proper landscape speeding past. Too fast, it was still too fast, couldn’t handle the immense momentum built up. Like the skeletal fingers of Death pillars of trees reached upward, eager to spear through his broken body. 

Claws seized around him, fumbling and frantic. The shawl had given Philza the precious seconds needed to catch up. Wings snapped out, force slamming into Technoblade so fast black washed over his vision. A crash as they hit the canopy, and Technoblade blinked away the blotches, clinging on all the tighter to Philza’s chest. They were still going way too fast, the forest blurring past. Philza wove expertly through the trees, twisting at impossible angles. Impact would be lethal at this speed, and yet he safely navigated at break-neck pace, coming to a nearly gentle stop and laying Technoblade on the ground. 

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. For all that Technoblade was sprawled upon the dirt his gut still wrenched with the plummet, the feeling of breath torn from his lungs still scraping his throat raw. Shock overwhelmed him, the world dissolving into pure panic.

Philza cradled his face in deadly talons, pleading in incomprehensible chirps and caws. The touch was grounding, made the world feel real again. 

With a sudden gasp it all rushed in, pain exploding from the bolt buried in his shoulder, each heaving gasp pained with ribs bruised from the vicious buffeting winds. Technoblade began to hyperventilate, system going haywire as his near death suddenly slammed in. A massive paw cupped his cheek, talons stroking through his hair. Worried coos rumbled over, slowly soothing his panic. 

“‘C████ ██ ███ █ ██h███ █i██ █ █████, ██ ███c████ ██ ██, ███k,” Philza keened, cradling Technoblade to his chest. “---█o████ my-” “‘C████ ██ ███ █ ██h███ █i██ █ █████, ██ ███c████ ██ ██, ███k.”   “my son,”

Wrapping an arm around Philza’s neck despite the jolt of agony in his shoulder, he buried his face in feathers. “I’m okay. I’m okay, Phil, it’s okay-” he kept mumbling it over and over. Gods, he couldn’t imagine the terror in Philza’s heart at almost losing a second child so soon. “We have to go. Tommy needs us.” 

He needed help to climb on Philza’s back, but soon they were taking off, racing upward to the nest far above. But a shrill caw caused Philza to falter, and in a swift maneuver he flipped, swooping down to where Kristin’s panicked caws rang out. 

“No- no no no!” Technoblade roared. “Tommy. He’s still up there, he’s betting attacked-” Philza cawed frantically, inarticulately in torn protest. “-I know! I’ll get her, but if they push him off he’s dead!” Hysteria cracked his voice as Technoblade realized there was nothing he could do to save Tommy. A desolate screech met in kind by Kristin, and Philza deposited Technoblade on the ground and shot off, tearing towards their chick. 

Technoblade ran for everything he was worth, crashing through the woods to where hunters swarmed around the fallen Kristin. A golden net ensnared her painfully. It must’ve taken every last drop of gold in the village to make it, every coin and cup given up for the sake of her capture. Curse of binding. Had to be, by the way her momentous struggling was in vain. Her movements were sluggish, the fumes of a pond’s worth of slowness potions sapping her dexterity. And yet even in her thrashing she was deadly, powerful talons shredding any who drew too close. Many of the hunters surrounding Kristin were clutching their ears, some of which were bleeding heavily. She drew in breath sharply, beak cracking open wide– 

Her eyes caught on Technoblade, and the blooming early notes of another deafening sonic cry hitched in her throat, not wanting to harm him. It was a costly hesitation, a giant gag shoved in her gaping maw. Kristin’s sharp protests were muffled, choking painfully and chest heaving to strain enough air through the gag. 

With a roar Technoblade charged at inhuman speeds, cutting through what few hunters reacted quickly enough. Most were taken off guard, but those who weren’t he dispatched with ease, tanking the blows thanks to his armor. For all that he only had the one good arm and was taking on scores of people, they didn’t call him a brute for nothing, and adrenalin and fury were a hell of a combo. In a haze of blood Technoblade swept slaughter through the soldiers descending upon him, carving a path of viscera towards the bound Ravengence. 

Kristin lurched towards him, her thrashing head leaden in its movements but no less desperate in its gesturing. A glance revealed the golden egg. “Eggs can’t exactly murder people!” Technoblade retorted as he rather literally disarmed a goon. “So sorry if I prioritize you!” He reached her, tucking into her side while she kicked at all who tried to stop him. He wedged his axe between feathers and rope, yet it wouldn’t snap. Unbreaking then, he wasn’t going to have a chance of freeing her unless he scratched out the runes. 

Projectile protection saved him from the shards of glass that shattered against his back. But it did nothing for the cold potion seeping into his fur. Technoblade’s eyes widened slowly. He turned, likewise, slowly to face the hoard charging him, holding them off barely. He could endure any blow, and even artificially torpid he was still almost the same speed as a human. 

But while strikes and arrows glanced off of him save for a few true flight bolts, it couldn’t save him from the strength of a mob, pulled down and trampled beneath the hunters. Countless hands tore at him, greedily stripping away the gold the Ravengences had bestowed him with. Kristin screeched as best she could, straining against the bindings so fiercely that drops of blood sprung up from where the net dug into her. A fearful cry tore from her as she watched her chick’s defenses ripped away. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing defending a beast?” 

“His loyalty always went to the highest bidder, not like he’d care if his patron was man or monster. Maybe he prefers brutes even. Birds of a feather and all that.” 

“Is that– the Lord’s crown? Damn piggy I knew you were a sellout but treason is a whole other league.” Fingers clawed at the crown, but binding murmured its dissent, and no matter what they couldn’t tear the promise of Philza’s love away from him. “Ha! Well that’s going to be a quick trial with evidence like that.”

A thoughtful hum. “I dunno, he’s still the best solo bounty hunter out there. I think we could buy him back, since the blackmail of treason is a pretty hefty debt. What do you say, Techno?” A hand yanked on one of the amulets Philza had adorned him in, and Technoblade choked as it sliced at his throat. “It’s that or the noose.” 

With a low growl his tusks buried in the arm of the speaker manhandling him. He earned a kick in the ribs for that, though his armor caught the brunt of it. Technoblade thrashed as the straps of his chest plate were pulled off. “What a waste of gold, I could buy a mansion with this-” 

“Slowness is wearing off, hurry up,” the leader barked. Kristin’s angry thrashing renewed, nearly severing the closest man in half. A cauldron was poured over Kristin’s head, the potion sparking and hissing as it seeped into dark feathers that immediately began to weakly levitate. Her muffled confused squawks only grew worse as everyone not pinning Technobalde down rushed over, grunting and groaning as the mob lifted the giant monster enough to get her on a massive cart pulled by dozens of horses. Thick chains tossed over, strapping her down so tightly that Kristin couldn’t move, could barely even breathe. 

Snarling, Technoblade shoved off the handful of humans pinning him down, attacking with his bare hooves till he ripped a shoddy sword out of someone’s hands and relied on that instead. But while he could free himself, he couldn’t free Kristin, people swarming around her like a disturbed anthill. 

With little other option and no idea where Philza was, he realized his best bet was to climb the cliff. But the little game trail leading to the top was overflowing with hunters, a caravan of horses and soldiers surging down laden with gold stolen from the nest. Not that there had been a lot left after Kristin devoured most for her egg…though Technoblade realized suddenly his metric for gold was warped after so long with the Ravengences. 

But what he should’ve been searching the raiders for was far more precious than gold. Where was Tommy? He scoured the sky for Philza but his dark form was absent, and the nest was impossible to see from this angle. Faint smoke laced the air. 

Technoblade’s ears stood on end when he caught a distant scream. He was already running to save Tommy. “Techno! Techno please- Techno, Phil, Kristin, anyone! Save me! PLEA-” His words cut off in a sharp cry of pain. “I can’t go back! You can’t make me- no- no stop, please don’t, stop don’t-! PHIL!” 

“TOMMY I’M COMING!” he roared, unable to care who heard. 

“Techno!” 

Technoblade crashed through the woods, carving through the first hunter that tried to stop him, heading straight to where smoke was beginning to blot the sky. Strange crescents of fire arced through the woods, Tommy’s calls beginning to be choked by smoke. He plunged through fire and foe alike. 

The long scar of claw marks gouged through the soil led directly to where Philza desperately dug his talons in. Lacking the potions and nets they’d prepared for Kristin, the snare encircling Philza took on a far crueler bent. Fire encircled him, so close that to take off would set his wings ablaze. As was he was narrowly avoiding agonizing death, flinching away from the embers undertalon as people shouted and attempted to wrangle him with chains. 

The fire danced in Philza’s wide, dark eyes, yet Technoblade’s blood turned to ice as he realized once more that it was Tommy’s screams pouring from the panicked Philza’s throat. Tommy was long gone, probably had been the moment after Technoblade was shoved out of the nest. 

As Technoblade fought through to get to Philza, a horse thundered to the party. “Where’s the net?!” one demanded angrily of the rider. 

“Leave it, we got the female. That one’s useless.” 

“What about Technoblade?” 

“What use is a piglin that can’t be bought? Chop his head off; it’s the only way to get the Lord’s crown back.” Before they could, he plunged into the fire encircling Philza, tucking into him to avoid the onslaught of arrows chasing him. “Whatever, let him get gored by a panicked monster. We can collect the crown later.”

A spluttering protest. “That’s the lord’s crown!”

The leader snorted. “Who cares? We have a female Ravengence. Everyone will have a crown for every day of the week by the end of this.” At the enticing offer, the team of hunters cleared, content to leave Philza to burn alive. Technoblade grimaced and lifted burning logs out of the way, slowly trying to clear a path big enough for Philza to pass through without any of his rather flammable feathers catching. It took longer than he wanted because of his wounds, but at last Philza surged out without getting singed. Only by knowing him so well did Technoblade know to immediately scramble onto his back before Philza launched. 

Philza cawed desperately, over and over, and met no response. The world blurred below, Philza flapping faster and faster. The wind whipped wildly through Technoblade’s fur, tears forming at the corner of his eyes from the speed. At last they found the caravan head snaking through the woods. Kristin was strapped to a cart pulled by a large team of horses, clearly gagged. Tommy- where was he– Technoblade desperately scanned the party for the thatch of his hair. There. Head ducked, marching alongside his father. And there. Philza’s and Kristin’s egg, spearheading the parade like some sort of trophy. Surely they’d grow cold without the warmth of their parents, killed in the carelessness of humans who only valued the shiny exterior and not the precious life cradled within. 

Philza plunged down, weaving through the volley of arrows and screeching his fury. “Philza!” Technoblade shouted over the roar of the wind. “We can’t take them! Every able warrior in town has to be in that mob, and they have three hostages!” 

“We can'█ ███!” — “████ have t███ █o████!” 

“Not without preparation! And if you get us killed who will save them?” Reluctantly, Philza arced through the sky, returning once more to their raided home. 

Philza had snapped the rope system along the cliff at some point. Too late, evidently, if Tommy had already been rappelled out of there. But there was still a small fortune in gold, and a few trapped hunters that were swiftly dealt with. Combined with the gifts Technoblade hadn’t been stripped of and a few things in Philza’s proventriculus from their recent hunt…would it be enough? Technoblade ran calculations in his journal, pages swiftly filling with scratched out designs of armor and runes. He needed to know the exact amount necessary, since he was coming to the swift conclusion his own weapons and armor would need to be cannibalized. All of them. The faster they raided Techno’s house the better, even if something in him was screaming at the thought of destroying every last piece of the armory he’d been building his entire life. 

His frustration was mounting, not aided by the fact Philza was repeating Tommy’s screams for help over and over, uncontrollably, as he paced restlessly. It was about the tenth time Philza replayed the encounter when Techno realized his voice didn’t just capture the words people could say. Apparently Philza could mimic other sounds, he just tended not to. Technoblade would be far more impressed with this fact were he not being forced to hear the sound of Tommy being slapped by his own father over and over again.  

Everything in Technoblade wanted to lash out, but he kept his voice very level. “I know, Phil. But I’m working on it, okay? We’ll save them, but we need to be prepared before we assault an entire village.” 

“Techno! Techno please-” Tommy’s voice begged, cracking with terror. “-- –save– –” “-save- –” “-s-”

“I’m trying! I’m trying Phil, this is the only hope I’ve got. Trust me.” Philza paused in his pacing, staring at Technoblade intently as he explained his plan. But Philza’s attention lay not on his sketched schemes but the bolt buried in his shoulder, the slices through him from various attacks. “Wait- no, stop, it’s fine! We don’t have time for that!” He barely fended Philza off. “They’re more important, I can wait. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” 

“- —███’█ more ███████,–” “--- eff██ ██ █e–” “—███████, █ c██-” “- —██t █’█ █████ ██ i█, ████? ███’█ ███ve ████—” “Techno! Techno–” “—██’█ fine!” 

Technoblade couldn’t respond. He’d never considered that, in his years as a bodyguard and monster hunter. He was paid to use himself up for others, his value lay in that. Deep down he still saw himself as a weapon for hire, nothing more. And he’d been hampering his own ability this entire time? He’d never considered that refusing to take care of himself meant failing to take care of Tommy. 

Hesitating, Technoblade relented to medical attention. He bit off a scream as Philza dug the bolt out of his shoulder, his claws applying a little too much pressure to the wound. “- - -███’█ more- — .”

“More?” His vision was a little hazy, and Technoblade couldn’t grasp why Philza was still trying to convince him if he’d already accepted medical attention. 

“—█████d █e███ ██ █s████ ██ e███r█ v█████e.” “███- no, █t██, █t’█ ███! ██ █o██’█— -” - –██ ████’█ hurt ████ ███.”

Subconsciously, he’d mistaken Philza’s affection as what Technoblade could do to serve the family; teaching what Tommy could eat and protecting him from harpies and providing food and gold. Maybe initially. But it stretched far beyond Technoblade’s utility now. His own pain was worthy of being soothed, beyond what he offered to protect the family. 

How strange, to be worth more than the pain he could endure, the damage he could inflict, the gold he amassed for power. 

“Why- why wouldn’t you lead with that, then?” Technoblade winced as Philza cleaned out his wounds. 

Philza snorted. “-you-” “-- -wouldn’t– -” “█ ███, ██l. ███ █’█ █████ ██ i█, ███? ██’█ s███ t█e█, ███ ██ n███–” “would█’█ you— ?” 

Technoblade laughed weakly. “I guess not.”

Repairing the featherfall shawl had been a simple affair compared to his next task. The bonfire before him roared, blazing hotter and hotter. With another armful of fire wood, Philza landed at the cliff top where Technoblade had decided to set up his makeshift workshop. A flap of his wings to stoke the flame, and Technoblade set to work, steadily melting down every last golden item he’d ever owned. For so long he’d stored his value in it, priding himself on the breadth of his armory and the lethal purr of a golden weapon in his hands. Hoarding more and more like some sort of doomsday prepper. Man, he was just as stupid as the humans. 

It was no loss, really. This was to protect his family, was it not? The molten gold molded easily in his hands, pounded into shape. Philza brought more and more wood to fan the flame of his desperate plan. It took hours until he was satisfied enough to let the piece he’d been working cool. It was a rough first attempt, would need to be sculpted better to fit, let alone accept runes. But even his fireproof palms were threatening to blister beneath the blaze and he reckoned Philza wouldn’t be too pleased. 

He waved Philza over to the cooling gold, pressing the back of his hand to check if it was a survivable temperature yet. Last thing he wanted to do was burn Philza. He carefully twisted in strong leather straps, and began the arduous task of figuring out how to get the Ravengence in the dang thing. 

After more time than Technoblade was willing to admit, the gleaming gold chest plate covered Philza’s scarlet breast, unmarred surface practically begging to be enchanted. Technoblade wiped the sweat from his brow, grinning at it. Philza twisted, checking his range of motion. The forelegs moved well enough, but the wings were missing their full range of motion. Technoblade took notes for things to adjust, knowing each revision would mean having to rethink the possible runes as the resonance altered. Everything was still theoretical given the different armor types he’d studied and their associated runes were distinctly people shaped. 

He could almost hear Philza’s reservations, even if Technoblade wasn’t aware of the whole Ravengence culture surrounding gold usage. “Hey. It’s my turn, alright? You’ve been dressing me up in gold this whole time to protect me, so it’s my turn to return the favor, Phil. And if you’re strong and take care of yourself you’ll be able to protect us better, unless you’re a hypocrite. Plus, bro you look siiiiick. Those losers don’t stand a chance!” 

Though a VERY rough draft, the proof of concept was enough to fill him with hope. And when Philza descended like a righteous Valkyrie upon the fools who’d torn his family asunder, there weren’t going to be any survivors. 

It was late at night when Technoblade had to throw in the towel. The enchantments were some of the most complex things he’d ever tried, and even one mistake could mean the whole thing was busted. Hence, why people tended to only put a few runes per piece given how complicated they were and the likelihood of interferences. Technoblade had already spent the entire day shifting and molding the gold until the full chorus of potential sang to him. Perhaps Tommy and Kristin would survive a few days, but the egg certainly was on borrowed time. Technoblade needed to be fast, and he needed to be perfect. 

But he was getting too tired, starting to make stupid mistakes. He dragged himself over to Philza, slumping into him. At once he was tucked underwing. Their foreheads pressed together for mutual comfort. He buried his face in the soft feathers, tears stinging his eyes. It was an awful night, but at least they had each other. 

In the pitch of night a fragile Chorus rose from the slumbering village. Philza’s flight hitched slightly, recognizing the evening song he’d preformed every night when calling for Kristin to come home. Silently his wings folded, pitching into a violent plunge. Technoblade grunted and pressed his body close to Philza’s back so as not to be ripped off. 

Philza couldn’t exactly sneak into the middle of town given he was a giant monster, but Technoblade could. Instead, as he slunk through town he softly returned the evening Chorus. It wasn’t long before Technoblade found Tommy, and with a little finesse he got the kid’s window open (read: smashed it to pieces). Shushing his eager reunion, they raced back to the woods where Philza waited. 

“They’ve trapped her in the temple. It’s–” fear flashed in his eyes. “It’s scary Techno, I think they’re worshiping Kristin even while she’s chained. They think she’ll give them infinite golden eggs. Sacrificing all these offerings to try and gain her blessing…it’s freaky as hell.”

Technoblade gave him a reassuring smile, tusks and all. “It’s okay, Tommy. We’re breaking her out tonight.”

“Good to know,” said a deep voice from behind Tommy. The boy’s eyes widened, lunging towards Techno only to be dragged back. 

“Techno it’s a trap-!” Tommy made out before his mouth was covered. His father didn’t even grimace as Tommy chomped down on his hand, writhing wildly. 

“I believe I’ve mistaken you for an intelligent man, Technoblade,” he chuckled as a team of hunters melted out of the dark. “Most know better than to fall for sirens, and yet you tried to join my caged songbird anyway.” 

Whistling sharply, Techno hurled Tommy’s loyalty dagger towards him. It landed perfectly in his hand and plunged neatly into his father’s side. Soldiers surged for them, but Tommy was the slightest bit faster in his race for Technoblade. “Can’t say the same, Mr. I never bothered to learn your name. I never thought you as anything but an idiot. It’s so much easier to get revenge if everyone you hate is in the same place!” He wrapped Tommy securely in one arm then tossed the dagger upwards, thunking into a low tree branch. When he called for it to return the branch dragged down alongside. The moment his hand closed around the handle the enchantment released, momentum flinging them upward seconds before the humans could descend upon them. He threw the cloak open, though his arms were slightly occupied with Tommy and it was less a glide than a graceful fall. 

A dark streak slammed into them as if a piece of the midnight fell upon them. Philza twisted, carefully scooping his chicks up. What few arrows slung at them ricocheted off the projectile protection enchantments on his chest plate. Well, among other runes. 

“Time table moved up, she’s at the temple and the mob will be gathering quicker than expected. Less hunting for us. Phase two is a go.” Giving the enemies time to group up, they quickly stached Tommy in a tree for safety. Then, Philza shot forward, guided to the jutting temple at the center of town. Below the flickering of torches began to coalesce, the Prime bells ringing their alarm as a mob grew at the base of the temple. Perfect. 

“Are you ready?” 

“██ ██ ready? !”

And like that, doomsday began. Far past even the highest of arrows and bolts and shouts could reach Philza circled the temple, heralding its annihilation. Philza’s beak cracked open wide, and he spat down a small package on the gathering mob below. Technoblade drew back his crossbow, nudging Philza into place with his knees to line up the perfect shot. So distant, even true flight would do no good without impeccable aim. 

Seconds before the small bundle hit the ground, Technoblade’s bolt struck it and the world exploded into glorious fire. He laughed manically as their improvised explosives obliterated everything. Who knew an entire life spent amassing various weapons would come in handy? Philza unleashed them liberally upon the attacking hunters, Technoblade bursting each one into violent pillars of flame. Death rained from above, but there was nothing the mob could do. The tiny humans below scattered beneath fiery destruction.

Phase three. Technoblade leapt off Philza’s back, shawl spread open behind him. Its enchantment burst into melody, powerfully crafted to even better effect than he’d hoped. 

Far from falling, Technoblade was flying. 

Or, well, he was gliding in a controlled fashion, but hey! Close enough! A gale whipped past, but this time the shawl was securely attached. His arms stretched out wide, his exhilarated laugh lost in the wind. Carefully he swooped down, his small figure lost in the miasma of midnight compared to where Philza drew the attention of their foes. He circled the temple, riding the updrafts of the immolated town square below. The smoke-laced wind rippling through his fur felt amazing.  

Technoblade lighted upon the peak of the shrine, watching the frantic scurrying of the villagers. Their attention was rather caught on Philza’s rampage. The arrows raining down upon him magnetized towards his heart, all perfectly deflected by his armor. Philza descended into the mob, impervious to attacks and rending people in fiery claws thanks to the partial gilding Technoblade had added to his talons. Armor was reduced to ribbons beneath his fury. His distant discordant shriek poured in concentrated blasts of sonic force that caused ears to bleed. The channeling necklace about his throat honed the Ravengence’s natural ability into a fearsome (and more importantly: controlled) weapon. Technoblade grinned as his ears were safely unharmed. Philza’s cries cut precise swaths through the mob charging him. Blood ran through the streets, but none of it was Philza’s. 

Silently Technoblade dropped upon the person ringing the Prime bells, their head hitting the ground with a sickening thump. Hopefully in the chaos no one thought to investigate the ceased klaxons. Not like he had much other choice for aerial entry, anyway. Undetected, Technoblade soared from rafter to rafter, an unnoticed shadow far above the heads of the crowd below. 

People took refuge in the shrine from the explosions and rampage, though were careful to give Kristin a wide berth despite the thick chains holding her in place. They wrapped around the pillars of the temple, sturdy iron thicker than Technoblade himself. Had to be to keep such a powerful Ravengence bound. The manacles chaffed with the signs of her struggling, dark feathers matted with blood and scabs. Technoblade felt sick. He could see what Tommy meant about the worship of the creature they enslaved. Above the golden net that caught her stretched through the air, proudly displaying the trap that had brought her so low. It taunted her. The beginning of mosaics and murals dedicated to Kristin lined the walls. Before her a feast overflowed, gorgeous silks lacing chain as if it could cover the atrocities the villagers enacted.  Deep gouges lined the marble floor, and in the wake of the explosions her efforts renewed, trying to claw her way forward. 

Because there upon an altar, just out of Kristin’s reach, rested the golden egg, gleaming from the incense candles surrounding it. And all she could do was watch as her child slowly died without the warmth of their family. 

As Technoblade worked his way towards Kristin, carefully avoiding the tangles of the golden net strung from the rafters, he occasionally picked off a person in the mob with his crossbow. Luckily Philza made for a hell of a distraction. As much as Technoblade would adore to be in the midst of battle, he’d sacrificed too much of his armor to tank the damage of an entire mob. Not that it wasn’t well spent, given the pure destruction Philza dealt. Still, he’d have to be sneakier than he’d prefer. 

Technoblade’s puzzling on how to safely free Kristin were interrupted by Philza’s sudden screech as he caught sight of her through the arching windows of the temple. Abandoning his massacre, he soared towards his beloved. She strained to lift her head as Philza’s cries rang out, Kristin struggling to call for him despite the thick gag bounding her.

It suddenly occurred to Technoblade that birds couldn’t see glass. “Phil PHIL PH-!” The world shattered around them. Philza shrieked in pain at the surprising shards of glass scraping past him, panicked flight crashing directly into the golden net hanging from the ceiling. At once enchantments roared to life, binding wrapping around the thrashing Ravengence until he was ensnared in a gilded spider’s webb. 

It’s a trap. He’d mistaken Tommy’s words to be about his own rescue, not the temple itself. 

If he could just weaken the runes- Technoblade reached for the net, desperately searching for the enchantments trapping his friend. He whipped out his axe, swinging wildly at the golden snare. Sparks flared with each slice, shouts ringing below as Technoblade was finally spotted. He curled up as small as he could, praying to avoid their projectiles as he desperately struck at the net. Though unbreaking prevented both Philza’s escape and Technoblade’s attack, the heat of fire aspect began to cause the metal to warp, cut after cut until the thin lace of gold molded easily under his hooves, the runes melting away. The power of the curse of binding weakened with each distorted golden glyph until at last Philza broke free. 

Philza launched another of their improvised explosive bundles. The first of Technoblade’s bolts shot it out of the air to pin it against a pillar Kristin was chained to. The second unleashed a terrible blast of fiery force. Kristin strained at her chains, cracks spider webbing from the blast until with a mighty lurch the force of a Ravengence’s fury and desperation overcame her restraints. The pillar crumbled beneath her strength, the temple beginning to collapse as the load bearing column was removed. Kristin charged towards her egg, pulling against the opposing chain. It snapped beneath the effort of two Ravengences, and she cradled her unborn carefully, terrified they were already dead. 

Furious, Philza shredded those trying to attack her, yet Technoblade’s eye caught on the man lingering in the back, a coward intent to let others die for him. Tommy’s father knocked a wicked crossbow, raising to train on Kristin’s face. Technoblade threw himself from the rafters, soaring towards the threat in a blur of gold. Hearing his growl, Tommy’s father looked up, jerking the crossbow up last second to fire directly at Technoblade. With a narrow roll, Technoblade dodged the bolt, slamming into the man full force. A gleam of his axe, and the foe was obliterated. He’d never hurt Technoblade’s sounder ever again. 

Kristin pressed the egg into Philza’s arms, ripping the gag from her mouth. A sharp chitter, and Philza bounded towards Technoblade, scooping him up and launching into flight. “Wait wait what about Kristin?!” he yelled, glancing back at where she stood her ground at the oncoming masses. Could she not fly? The chains were loosed but still wrapped around tightly, chunks of pillar dragging behind her. Yet Philza tore away into the night, faster and faster, and Technoblade only realized why when Kristin’s cacophonous roar scraped his ears raw even hundreds of feet up in the air. The windows of the fallen temple shattered. Below, the people lining the streets collapsed, clutching their bloody ears. Those closest to the temple never rose again. Death spilled out in tumultuous waves, claiming countless lives. Her vengeance enacted, Kristin took to the sky, draped in chains and silks and dragging chunks of her cage with her into the free heavens. 

Fetching Tommy, Philza led them to the new cliff base him and Technoblade had relied on for their preparations, fearing another attack. Philza carefully lay the egg in the nest, the worried family gathering around. It seemed undamaged from both capture and rescue, but so long without incubation the odds were slim. 

Technoblade pressed his ear against the cold shell, straining to hear the hum of its potential. And— there. The faintest ghost of a heartbeat. Not a real one, obviously, but the seed of magic waiting to blossom into life. The rustle of wings and young chirps echoed, the future safely nestled in the hearth of the gold. A grin spread across Technoblade’s snout. The altar candles must’ve maintained enough heat for them to survive. In their sacrifices the villagers had created the wrong miracle. “Alive. They’re alive. We made it in time.” 

Kristin nuzzled him, then winced as her injuries were prodded. She roosted as Technoblade worked to get the shackles off, glad to have their egg finally in reach. The little family pressed into one another, reunited at last. 

“Literal gold-talons, dear?” [Kristin] asked lightly in the morning, watching the glint of the dawn across his claws. A slight breeze ruffled his dark feathers, and Rose-Chick shivered and tucked even tighter into her side. Gold-Chick had clung to him all night, both tucked safely under wing next to the egg. Her nest was full. All was well. 

[Philza] curled his claws, watching the sparks dance along the gilding. “Ah…Rose-Chick insisted. And I think there may be some merit to his culture. It technically is still being used to defend chicks, if not in the traditional sense. Given we have permanent chicks now it wouldn’t necessarily even be depriving the community. And I felt impervious in battle.” He hummed a happy note, thinking of how equipped he was to protect his family now. 

“I saw,” [Kristin] said, nudging the golden necklace ringing his throat with her beak. “You were magnificent. Both of you. You really did pick good chicks.”

“And you sure I’m not going to go splat??” Tommy asked dubiously, spreading out his arms to look at the second featherfall shawl Technoblade had made. 

Technoblade snorted. “If I wanted you to splatter I would’ve just pushed you out of the nest myself. Philza nudged Tommy’s arm, fixing the bent crook to hold straight. His own wings stretched out wide, gesturing in different positions. Philza was overjoyed with the chance to teach his first chick to fly. He twittered and cooed, conveying things that were very good flight tips albeit incomprehensible to the people. Tommy looked even less sure, overwhelmed by Technoblade and Philza talking over each other trying to explain it. 

Tommy glanced over the edge. “I dunno, innit dang- AH!” Tommy yelped as Philza shoved him off the cliff. He flapped like crazy, which was distinctly not how the cloaks worked. Technoblade huffed at Philza and threw himself off the precipice, cleanly diving into a swoop alongside the panicking Tommy. 

“Lock your arms! Straight out like Phil said!” he shouted over the wind. 

“PHIL SAID JACK SH- AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!” Tommy screeched, narrowly dodging a pillar of rock. But he followed instructions, flaring his arms out and properly catching the wind. Philza dropped, flying beneath Tommy for safety. “Could’ve done that sooner,” he grumbled. Philza chirped at him, stretching his wings and demonstrating how to carefully turn, which Tommy crudely copied. Techno tossed out tips, and slowly the fledgling grew more confident. Once he’d gotten a hang of it, Philza soared ahead of them, Tommy and Technoblade taking advantage of the lift he generated to fly farther and longer than they could’ve on their own.