Archive of Our Own

You know you're dreaming before your actions even fully register.

How could you not, with the way the edges of your vision blurs, the way the cabinets aren't quite right, the way your wings feel so much lighter then they should? The way you cannot control your own body, your own words?

You can do nothing but watch, unable to do anything but give into the dream.

You're balancing on a chair, irritated chirps falling from your mouth as you try to reach the back of the cabinet.

Blinding Atlas and his stupidly tall legs and stupidly long arms. He keeps putting stuff where your tiny arms can't reach! You keep trying to grasp at the handle of your favorite mug- a lightless one with bright swirls like clouds on it- but you keep pushing it back farther and farther into the cabinet that seems to go on forever.

You move off the chair, clambering onto the counter and standing best as you can. You can feel your wings stretch as you try to reach in farther. Farther and farther and impossibly far, the mug is so far from you it might as well be a star in the sky. Back, back, back, into the cabinet, like your freedom, your wings, your voice, everything that you are.

You're always reaching for something, aren't you?

And yet, despite the distance, your claws clink against the mug.

Your claws grasp at the handle and you begin to pull it out with a triumphant chirp, dragging it across the wood. But you don't seem to be making any progress, simply pulling, and pulling, and pulling, but it's getting no closer to you. You have it- you have it you have it you have it! So why won't it come closer?!

You decide to take a step back to see if it follows you, and fall off the edge of the counter.

For a brief moment, you think you see the sunlit sky as you descend, but the dream corrects itself back into a kitchen, and you are caught in a pair of familiar arms that wrap you up bridal style. Your wings press against your body, but it does not hurt.

Atlas laughs as you clutch your mug to your chest, free from the cabinets, and you huff and turn your head to look away. He looks at you with a warm smile, his hair tied back, and soft eyes glimmering with amusement, "Climbing the counters again, dear angel?"

You elect to bap his forehead with the bottom of your mug, and chirp when he laughs.

"Apologies, angel, I forget how little you are sometimes. You won't have to worry about that next time," he says, but you turn and glare. He always forgets to put your mug on the lower shelves, and this conversation has happened before. Blinding Atlas. Blinding tall people in general!

You kicks your legs, and puff up your wings. It's what you usually do when you want down, and you wait for him to do just that. You have…something, you wanted to make. Something with the mug, but you don't remember.

"Now why would I do that?" Atlas's grip tightens on you, metal gauntlets that he was not wearing moments before digging into your body. It hurts, it hurts the way the metal plating grips onto you, the way your skin squishes under his grip, and you cannot wake. He won't let you wake up.

You freeze, and stare up at him.

There are tears welling up in his eyes as strands of hair fall over his face, "Why did you leave me, my angel?"

Your mug cracks under your terrified grip, and you say nothing.

"I was taking such good care of you. We could've won, together, you and I. We could've saved Vaugarde, could've brought back our homeland, just like we agreed…but you betrayed me. I was keeping you safe, and you left. My precious angel has abandoned me. Does the Universe not agree with me?"

His grip tightens more, you feel the bones in your leg snap, a searing pain shooting through your legs like a memory, but you do not wake.

He won't let you. Why won't he let you? You need to wake up, wake up, wake up-

"Was your room not safe enough? I can make it bigger, next time. I can give you a perch to sit on, next time, make sure to give you a feeder, something for water. I'll take better care of you once you come back to me. Then we can be together again, just like before, and everyone will be safe this time," He promises, "But first."

You feel his hand close around the base of your wings, but you cannot move.

"I have to make sure you can't fly away again."

SNAP.

✧₊˚. ⋆ ✧ ⋆ .˚₊✧

Expressions save you.

The longer Siffrin is in your group, the more questions you have.

It's getting to the end of the night, the sun will be rising in an hour or so, but for now you sit by the lantern light. You're on watch while everyone else sleeps, but not a single Sadness can be heard near your camp (Why?). It's only the sounds of wild animals that poke around for a few minutes and leave, so you sit, and you think.

It's been a week since the tower and you're almost upon a town, and no matter how many times you pour over your notes, find more things to write down, you still can't make sense of it. But you are sure what happened there had to do with Siffrin.

It had to be their singing, had to be something with the way that curved diamond shape appeared in their eyes, and the way the Sadness sung back. Was it instinct for it to respond, you wonder, or did Siffrin make it respond?

Star, that symbol was a star. You remember it, though only because it's written in your notes. It's something meant to represent the dots in the night sky, and something you firmly believe to be heavily tied to their culture with how often it repeats in the locations you find the Orbs.

And why did they forget singing at all? What part of their culture relied on song? Could they tame Sadnesses? Control them? Perhaps they were a part of every day lives, rather than monsters in the wilds like in Vaugarde. Vaugardians either defeat them, or release them into the wilds.

Was it different there? Siffrin can rile up Sadnesses as well, so being able to calm them isn't surprising, but why can they remember how to anger them but not calm them? Is angering them even something they're doing on command, or just a byproduct of their panic and fear?

What is so different about their culture that Siffrin's immediate instinct is to calm the Sadness, rather than attack like the rest of you?

But you will never know for sure, because the island north of here is gone, and its people are scattered at best. No matter how much research you try to do into it, trying to find how the King got this power, how to defeat him, you may never find out for sure.

May.

Because now Siffrin is here, and at the very least, you can figure out what their abilities are. Between their knowledge- or what remains of it- and Mirabelle's blessing, you are sure that victory is yours.

…

Gems, you worry about Siffrin. Abilities aside, their behavior is…concerning, for multiple reasons. You still can't quite get their expression out of your head, when you asked why the House was sealed. You doubt Mirabelle has, either. You've yet to mention it to Isabeau, though you're sure Mirabelle has.

King did. Protect me.

It repeats in your head again, and again, and again, every time you look at them. Every time he stares at the sky with that quietly overwhelmed expression, every time he stretches his wings, every time he clings to Mirabelle or Isabeau as distressed sounds poured from their lips and he cannot calm down.

They looked scared in a way you don't think you'll ever be able to properly explain. The way they shrink into themselves, feathers and wings pulling in, eyes squeezed shut. You had seen the way his hands had trembled when he declared it protection, the way their breathing quickened, and the quiet whine that had come from their throat. And the way they snapped back to something seemingly calm, confused, like there was never any terror in their eyes at all.

scared help me

You can practically hear that distress now as you go to close your notebook, quiet as that sound is, and-

not safe scared help me help me help me

Look up to see Siffrin, just as he sees you, as they freeze from their position half-crawled out of the tent they share with Mirabelle. The same expression is back, the trembling fear like a small animal cornered by a monster. You note their tensed hands and claws digging into the dirt, the way their eyes dart back and forth, the way their wings are pressed into their body like he was trying to make himself small as possible.

And you don't know how to help. You've never been particularly good at people's emotions.

"Good morning, Siffrin," you decide to greet, "Are…you quite alright?"

scared. He nods, and you make a mental note that you don't think Siffrin can fully control the way he communicates. Or, at the very least, they can't lie very well with it. You're pretty sure if he can communicate food rotten evil evil evil smell for mold like they did back in the tower, they can do just about anything.

"Uh-huh…" Well, anything but lie, and you raise an eyebrow at them. You wonder if he's even fully aware of what he's saying.

He flinches.

. . .

Gems alive, you don't know how to comfort them. What is it that Mirabelle and Isabeau seem inclined to do? You…believe a hug would be something the two of them would do.

Eugh. You've never been a fan of touch yourself, preferring people a respectable distance away, but you awkwardly open an arm for him, "…Would you like a hu-" GEMS.

You were not prepared for Siffrin abruptly crashing into your side, wrapping their arms around your torso as they bury their face into your side. He lets out a quiet whine again scared help me.

You awkwardly put your arm around them, patting their back, "There…there?" What you would give for the other two to be awake right about now. You're not qualified for this whole…touchy feelings thing. They seem to be trying to bury themselves into you in general, so you should likely do something. Perhaps a distraction is in order, and you can simply mention this to Isabeau or Mirabelle later. Let them handle it, and in the meantime…

Well, you do have Siffrin now, perhaps they can help you with locating the Orbs. He was there when the King scattered them, perhaps he knows if there is a pattern you simply cannot see.

"Would you like to know what I was up to?" You suggest. You have another feeling that he might be about to snap out of whatever has scared him so much, just like in the tower, and about four other times since he's joined your group. Four. Over the course of a week.

You're…deeply concerned at how fast they go from upset to seemingly not, but you trust Isabeau to handle it, like you've discussed with him a couple nights prior after Mirabelle and Siffrin went to bed. As thick-skulled as Isabeau can be, you have to admit that he can be very observant when it comes to people's emotions.

Sure enough, Siffrin looks up at you with wide, curious eyes, and makes a trilling sound curious need help? help friend!

"Admittedly, I'm not too sure how much this problem can be helped," you chuckle, but open your notebook, "I've told you before how we don't have a specific way of tracking the Orbs, yes?" You have several pages stuck between these, including a map, so you pull it out as well and unfold it, "I've already marked the locations so far, and I was hoping with three I could find a pattern-"

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧!

"…what." You have absolutely no idea what they just tried to say. Worse, you feel a headache coming on.

Siffrin releases you, sitting up and leaning against you. "Star path," he speaks softly, and you find yourself relieved. At least whatever they tried to communicate has a translation you can understand. Even better, Siffrin recognizes the locations, which means there is a pattern to be found. And if there's a pattern, you can make your journey far faster and save your knees.

You look at the map, and the locations marked. They're dotted around seemingly randomly- and you have a few areas also marked out on potential locations you've heard about. Any lead is a lead, and you've had several false leads so far. You ruled out a handful when going over them earlier in the night, taking out any locations that you know for sure don't share the same imagery as the tower, vault, or mountainside house you had found the previous Orbs in. Twice is concidence, three is a pattern, after all.

Siffrin's staring intently at the paper, and chirps, mark? find for friend!

"Ah, I do suppose you need a pencil, yes?" You pull out one of your charcoal pencils, and pass it to Siffrin.

They start drawing immediately, and you have the utmost pleasure of watching them stick out their tongue in concentration. Alongside the pleasure of watching their wings flap, small trills of help friend helping yay yay yay! coming from their mouth. You resist the urge to pat them on the head, and instead watch them work.

The motion looks practiced as they draw small stars on the map, and six larger ones. You note that they completely ignore your own marks, drawing three large stars over where you marked the old Orbs. Some of the smaller stars fall over locations you've found clues to the Orbs as well, and it may still be worth visiting some locations for clues on how to defeat the King.

You also note that they put one of the larger stars directly over where the House of Dormont is, and you cannot help but dread the state the House may be in if the first three Orbs are anything to go off of.

Then, you watch them connect the stars, and slowly form into a large spiral, and you cannot help but question how many times Siffrin has drawn this exact spiral before.

You have a key for your symbols on the map, as this is your personal map you're allowing him to draw on and you need more symbols to keep track of locations. The key is on the page you store this map in and is hidden under it, so Siffrin shouldn't know what he's drawing over. Siffrin, as far as your aware, hasn't even looked at a map recently. They should have no idea whatsoever where anything is, and yet here he is, having pinpointed the first three Orbs with seemingly no second thought. You don't think he's even paying attention to the symbols already on the map.

You find that you have no doubt that the two stars you have not visited are where the other Orbs are. You wonder if this is not the first time Siffrin has drawn over a map like this for someone else.

You wonder if this spiral is the same one the King used when he cast out the Orbs, you wonder if their locations are on purpose. So no one would be able to find them in time to save the country, but he would still know where they are. You wonder if Siffrin is the one who taught him.

A secret only to these two.

A secret that now you have as well, and will take great care to preserve.

They finish the spiral, Dormont's House in the center, and look at up at you with a hopeful expression, mark all done!

"Very good, Siffrin," you resist the urge to pat them on the head, "I must admit, it is very nice to finally have a path to follow rather than our blind goose chase."

He tilts his head, a confused expression on his face, but trills, friend happy?

"Indeed," you fail to resist the urge to pat them on the head, and put your hand on top of their head, "Three of the larger symbols you drew are where previous Orbs have been. I have a strong feeling that the remaining two are at the other locations."

He purrs a bit in response, and you pull away as you do your best to remind yourself that this is, in fact, a grown adult person that you're petting on the head. Not a cat, and you do still need to respect that.

sad.

…You put your hand back. You suppose it's fine so long as they want it.

yay!

"Though I am curious," you risk losing some of their knowledge with this, but if you can figure out the nature of this pattern… "What is a star path, exactly?"

He sits up straight, and your hand falls away as he thinks. They start clicking their fingers on the ground before answering, "Like…constellation?"

"A what?"

"Path Universe follows," they tap their fingers together, making some hand motions as they try to explain, "Collects in…areas? Walls thin." He scrunches up his face a bit, mad mad mad.

"Universe?" You question. You have several questions, actually. Collect in areas? What dictates that? What does walls mean?

friend! "…Alive Craft?" Warning. Madmadmad. They start flapping the wings on their head a bit harder, brows furrowed. You have a feeling there's more nuance to it that they're not able to explain properly.

And you wonder if he's aware of the risk of forgetting this information as well. Why is he declaring a warning?

Even still, this is interesting, "I see. So when there's too much of this… Alive Craft in an area, things can get a bit strange?" The term Universe has come up a few times in your research, and from what you can gather, it's a type of god. Though Siffrin referring to it as a sort of Craft is…very interesting. You wonder if they have a different perception of it altogether, especially with how they also referred to it as a friend. Is it sentient?

Ugh. You never intended to research a forgotten island when you came to Vaugarde, you never intended to research anything at all, but here you are.

Warning, he nods, "Warps."

"Like with the libraries," you ask, "Where they're in perfect condition, despite everything else being decayed?" You've suspected that the distortion might have had something to do with the Universe, but you haven't had enough evidence up until now.

He nods again, Warning.

They haven't forgotten just yet, just based off the lack of change in their expression, but a third warning is a third warning.

You know that if you want more information, it'll have to be at a later time. The fact you already got this much…you wonder if Siffrin might have some type of resistance. You wonder what Siffrin even is, really. All of you have, all of Vaugarde has.

Truth be told this is not even the first time you've heard of a winged person.

You think about your time in the Ka Buan underground from a few years ago, of rumors of a foreigner abruptly sprouting wings in public and collapsing before the authorities swiftly taking them away. You think about a few months later about a hidden lab abruptly going up in flames, rumors of a darkless winged figure seen flying out from the debris.

Is it a stretch to wonder if that's Siffrin? They can read Ka Buan, after all…Or, perhaps, they're not alone.

You do miss your resistance days, but this is not the time to reminiscence. There's too many other things going on at the moment, and your home country is far away completely unaware of the places you've been.

Siffrin is looking up at the sky now, a somber expression on their face as the sun slowly begins to rise. They've completely pulled away from you now, sitting quietly while you think.

"Well," you sigh, "How about some tea? It'll still be a little while before Mirabelle and Isabeau wake up, so we have time."

Siffrin looks at you, and nods.

✧₊˚. ⋆ ✧ ⋆ .˚₊✧

"So! What's the verdict, oh great Omenbringer Harmony?"

You scoff as you look up from your place on the floor of the Eastern Observatory, "That's such an old term! And spooky!" You pout, "Who even uses that? Besides you, oh great Keeper Reeve?" You're a Scout!! You prefer Scout! Because it's not super ominous!! You investigate weird stuff and report back to your flock- sometimes after gossiping about it with your mamas even though you're supposed to do flock first- but still! Scout Harmony! The youngest of the Starfellers and Craft prodigy! That's you!

Keeper Reeve has the gall to laugh at you! "Spare an old fella their joy, but still…"

Bleeeegh, yeah you should really answer the question. You've been sitting here in the middle of this ritual circle for an hour just poking around the walls of the Universe, you're only here after Keeper Reeve reported a weird shift in the walls and you could get here fastest. Not as weird of a shift as when you lost contact with the other side back when you were barely a teenager and still had your baby wings, but still weird and he couldn't quite figure out what was going on.

…Also the fact that the metal claws you had commissioned had gone completely missing!

…And a single white feather was left on the floor, a white feather that you're holding in your hand.

"It's completely sealed," you answer, "The cracks here are gone. I can't see the other side at all, it's like the entire building disappeared."

He nearly drops the glass of water in his hand as he stares at you, "What? No, I…" he sighed, and set down the glass on the nearest table, "I had thought so, the shift was…strange, but it's been over a decade. I thought my calculations were wrong. If there's someone out there capable of patching things from the other side, why start here?"

"Who knows, but…" you shrug, and flop against the floor, "It's completely sealed…A decade of nothing from our sister time, and suddenly one of the largest cracks is sealed up." You hold up the white feather in your hand over your face, and stare at it.

It's pointy, like your baby wings were before you Crafted them into the dark crow wings you have now when you became an adult. You still remember just how happy you were to get rid of that stupid spike and the glowing of your wings. Those made it hard to sleep!

…

You still remember your flock talking about it, when it happened.

Your sister timeline, the one closest to your own, letting you bridge the gap. To keep track of the Universe, to keep it stable, to keep time flowing.

You remembered panic when something broke, the scrambling to fix it, but your flock could only patch things from your side. No one from the other side could respond. No letters exchanged, no items, the alters had gone completely silent. There was multiple rituals done to try to get anything from the other side. From Eden, from Vaugarde, Poteria, Mwudu, even some of the ships out in the sea gave it a shot. Your flock reached out to as many Keepers as you could trying to find out what happened, but things were still unstable back home. It took years to patch Eden up, so no one could make a proper investigation. By the time you could, there was nothing.

Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Until now.

Someone else is out there, on the other side, with white feathers that remind you of how yours used to look.

And now you have something of theirs you can use to find them.

This should be exciting, shouldn't it?

So why is your hand shaking?

…

You were sent away to live with your aunt when things started to go wrong. You wonder if they ever made it.