Work Text:
The world was still burning when Wind Archer Cookie found him.
Ash floated through the air like the ghosts of fallen leaves, twirling in lazy spirals before hitting the charred ground. The trees were blackened skeletons against the night sky, twisted and broken. Smoke choked the stars.
Somewhere deep inside the ruined forest, Wind Archer landed softly on a crumbling branch, emerald eyes sharp and searching. He could still feel it — the faint pulse of fire magic, flickering weakly against the breeze. Barely there.
His heart hammered in his chest. His instincts screamed at him to hurry.
You have to find him. You have to find him now.
Following the thin current of heat, Wind Archer slipped silently through the branches until he spotted it: a small, glowing red bead, barely brighter than a dying ember, tucked beneath the shelter of a scorched tree’s roots.
Fire Spirit Cookie.
No — not even fully Fire Spirit right now. Just a shivering ball of battered magic, curled up in pure instinct for survival.
Wind Archer felt his breath catch in his throat.
He dropped to the ground without hesitation. Kneeling beside the bead, he hovered a hand over it but didn’t dare touch. Even in this weakened form, Fire Spirit’s body radiated a brittle heat — dangerous, volatile. A wrong move could make it worse.
Still, the sight of him like this — small, fragile — struck a blow harder than any enemy ever could.
Wind Archer swallowed hard. He had to do something.
Quickly, he shifted into his smaller bird form — a sleek figure of jade and teal feathers, light and sharp as a dagger of wind. In one practiced beat of his wings, he lifted himself up and gently landed directly on top of the bead, careful to distribute his weight so he wouldn't crush it.
His talons curled lightly around the surface. His feathers fluffed out, creating a soft insulating layer. Shielding Fire’s body from the cold night air. Trapping the precious little heat left inside.
The bead twitched faintly under him. A feeble vibration ran through the shell.
Wind Archer bent his head low, almost touching the surface. “Stay still,” he murmured. His voice was low and strained. “You’re burning yourself out.”
Another weak flicker. A sound that was almost — almost — a protest.
Wind Archer closed his eyes tightly, clenching his small talons for a second before relaxing them again. "You don’t get to argue with me tonight," he whispered. "You’ve lost that right."
The bead pulsed weakly in response, but it didn’t resist him again.
The minutes stretched long and heavy. Smoke drifted through the wreckage around them. The cold of the coming dawn started to creep in at the edges of the forest, making the remaining embers of Fire Spirit's magic flutter like a candle in the wind.
Wind Archer stayed perfectly still, anchoring them both.
It was strange, he thought distantly, how vulnerable Fire looked like this.
Not the reckless, roaring spirit who laughed at the face of danger. Not the infuriating, impulsive idiot who threw fireballs just to see who could dodge the fastest.
Just... Fire Spirit Cookie. Smaller. Mortal. Breakable.
And it terrified Wind Archer more than he could say.
He tucked his wings a little tighter around the bead, trying to steady his own racing heart.
From beneath him, a faint, slurred voice rose, so soft he almost missed it.
"...You're warm, windy..."
Wind Archer startled slightly, blinking. Then his beak clicked shut in a tight line.
"That’s you, smoldering under me," he muttered back, voice rough around the edges.
Another weak pulse of heat. A sleepy, half-conscious chuckle.
Fire Spirit was clearly delirious — talking nonsense — but even so, the sound of it unclenched something tight inside Wind Archer's chest.
Then, quieter:
"...Thanks... birdbrain..."
Wind Archer exhaled a slow breath, the wind around them calming at his release of tension.
"You’re lucky I’m the only one who can tolerate your stupidity," he said, his words biting but his tone unbearably gentle.
No answer.
Fire Spirit Cookie had fallen into a deeper, more stable sleep, the flickering magic under Wind Archer’s talons finally growing steadier.
Wind Archer stayed there, unmoving, long after the danger passed. His small body shielding the bead from the night’s chill, guarding him like a sentry made of wind and stubbornness.
The sky began to lighten by fractions — pale gray seeping into the horizon, the stars fading one by one like reluctant embers. In the half-light, the ruined forest looked softer, the ash and broken trees blurred by mist.
Wind Archer, still in bird form, glanced down at the bead under him.
It glowed brighter now.
Not fully healed — nowhere near — but no longer on the brink of flickering out.
Wind Archer relaxed slightly for the first time all night, his feathers smoothing back into sleek lines. He folded his wings neatly, settling in more firmly atop Fire Spirit like a broody, overprotective bird.
"You’re an idiot," he whispered again, softer this time.
He hadn’t meant to say it aloud. The words just slipped out, carried by the raw honesty that only dawn and exhaustion could wring from him.
And somewhere deep inside the glowing bead, Fire Spirit stirred faintly — as if he heard, even in dreams.
Wind Archer lowered his head again, resting his small body more fully atop the warmth, and closed his eyes. He allowed himself, just this once, to rest too.
For now, the forest was quiet. The fires had died. The world was still.
And Wind Archer Cookie, eternal guardian of the winds, would not leave his reckless flame until he could fly again.
Heres the screenshot anyways gay fuckers:
