Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Wilbur sat on a barstool inside a damp pub. Everything in the town was damp. Set on the very edge of a swamp, it rained every other day and Wilbur would be surprised if the locals bathed more often than once a fortnight. Still, it was a rather homey and down to earth kind of damp. 

A bard was playing a set in the corner, getting the drunken townsfolk riled into a joyful frenzy. Wilbur smiled and sipped at his drink. Rural people always partied better than cityfolk. 

He was pulled out of his meandering thoughts as the performer yelled something that made the crowd yell even louder.

“It’s time for a new local favorite, The Ballad Of Technoblade!” 

A few chords later, the lyrics started up, and Wilbur couldn’t even hear the bard over the drunken mass. They were something about the hero in question killing 3 griffons at once, and then slaying a wyvern without pause. How he never needed food and no one had even seen him sleep. They called him, “A man to rival the gods of the land/always found with a sword in his hand/Working hard to fight through the fray/never knowing his own true way. ”

Wilbur querked a smile at that first line. 

The final stanza had a rhyme scheme than the rest of the song. Something this bard in particular had appended onto the song, Wilbur assumed. But the intoxicated crowd only roared louder. Something about a fight with a manticore.

Knocking on the wooden bartop, Wilbur vied for the bartender’s attention. Once she was looking firmly in his direction, he pointed towards the crowd.  “Do you know what that song was about?” He asked.

“The Ballad of Technoblade ? Sure! It’s a collection of stories about a  monster slayer. He’s gotten pretty popular in the last couple of years.” She set the glass that she had been drying down, freeing her hands to gesture as she spoke. 

“There’s actually quite a few songs about him, but that's the first one that has it name on it. I’m fairly certain that the first song I ever heard when I was about yay high was about him.” She held her hand at about waist height. The bartender looked to be in her early twenties.

Wilbur’s eyebrows raised toward his hairline. “Really? I didn’t think monster hunters had a long life expectancy.”

The bartender hummed to herself coyly. She turned around and reorganized a shelf behind her as she continued the conversation. “They do say that Technoblade never dies. He passed through here a few days ago and dealt with a manticore that was killing cattle and sheep.” She gestured around the pub without looking back. “He drank everyone in here under the table and walked out into the rain without stumbling.”

“Well, then,” Wilbur said. “I think I may just need to find this Technoblade. What’d he look like?”

“White shirt with a red cloak, black pants and boots, red sash around his waist, and he always had a crystal sword on his left hip. He left town heading south, probably towards Crosstown.”

Wilbur digested the new info for a moment. He slammed down the rest of his drink, and set the mug on the table. “Thanks for the information. Have a good night and may the gods be with you.” 

He slid off the bartop stool and started through the crowd. He got a few steps before the bartender yelled one more thing at him.

“Oh! And he had pink hair!” 

Had it not been for Wilbur’s perfect hearing, he’d of thought she said something else.

Once he was outside of the rowdy pub, the god took a moment to formulate a plan. The pink hair would probably be the best way to identify the elusive man. Wilbur didn’t want to get his hopes up, but it had been a good few centuries since a new god had been found.

The deity took a moment to stretch, before transforming into a finch, and heading south towards Crosstown.  He could have traveled there instantly, but the god had always loved the feeling of wind under his wings. 

Crosstown was a few day’s walk from the swampy village. Unless Technoblade really didn’t sleep, then he would still be on his way to the city. 

After a night of flying uncomfortably close to the ground, Wilbur had yet to spot someone in a red cloak, and the city was in sight. Technoblade have had to walk for over a day without stopping to reach Crosstown. The deity added a mark to his mental “is Technoblade is a god?” list. Landing in an alleyway, he transformed back into a person.

Legally, nothing was stopping him from transforming in public, but not everyone had the highest opinions on public displays of magic. Wilbur had more important things than deal with bigots. Mainly, locating the famous monster hunter.

The only lights in the city came from the crescent moon overhead, and the occasional houses that still had candles burning in their windows. The god had perfect vision though, so the low light wasn’t an issue. 

There was a lack of obvious bustle on the street due to the late hour of the night. The city never truly slept, but anyone in their right minds probably would be. Technoblade probably bought a night in an inn. Wilbur decided that searching for him at night would be useless. He’d have to wait until morning to look for the monster hunter.

The god came to stop at the outskirts of a park near the edge of Crosstown.  A few trees were scattered around the grassy area. His attention was drawn to the only other person in eyeshot. Someone in a red cloak sat on the damp ground, leading back against a tree. A crystalline sword sat across their lap, and a few tufts of pink hair stuck out of their hood. Smiling, Wilbur stepped closer.

Technoblade was sound asleep and in desperate need of some personal care. His hair looked roughly cut, like the monster hunter had done it himself. He was caked in mud up to his knees. Tears and large blood splatters covered his clothes, but Technoblade seemed uninjured. 

The only belongings that Wilbur could see besides the sword in his lap were a scabbard, presumably for the sword, a smaller burlap sack, and a blood soaked cloth bag tied to his belt. 

A piece of his pink bangs were moving along with the man’s even, slow breaths. Reaching down, Wilbur nudged the monster hunter's shoulder. The next thing he knew, the deity was pinned to the ground. Technoblade had a knee pressed between his ribs and a sword pressed to his neck. 

The hunter’s eyes were looking through Wilbur. A second later, Technoblade blinked, and the glaze left the hunter’s vision. He swore softly, and muttered an apology, tossing his sword away. 

The knee was removed from Wilbur’s ribs, and the man climbed off of the god. The deity rolled onto his side, feigning discomfort and groaning softly. 

Technoblade got to his feet, still looking down at the person he’d just attacked. After a moment, Wilbur uncurled from his ball on the ground. The two made eye contact, and the monster hunter spoke first. 

“What do you want?” His tone was somewhere between aggressive and wary. Defensive, is how Wilbur would describe it. 

Wilbur took a moment to center himself before speaking. “I’ve heard stories about you, Mr. Technoblade. And I want to see if they’re really true.”

A pause.

“If you’re going to try and kill me, you won’t.” The monster hunter was taking this encounter a lot more seriously than the god.

“It’s nothing like that, I promise.” Wilbur waved his hands in front of him appeasingly. The man seemed very anxious and getting stabbed was not on the god’s to-do-list for the day. “Just a trial or two.”

Technoblade still stood in a defensive stance, with his center of mass lower to the ground. Wilbur didn’t know the first thing about fighting, but the monster hunter seemed more ready to react from an attack by Wilbur, than make the first move. 

His hands were away from the sheath at his hip, and instead raised like he was ready to grapple an attacker. 

The man glanced around before speaking. “Can it wait ‘til morning? I still have a bounty I need to turn in and the sheriff's office doesn’t open until daylight.” He gestured towards the bloody bag hanging from his hip. 

“Alright.” Wilbur nodded.  “I’ll find you when you’re done.”

When Technoblade blinked, Wilbur vanished from where he had been sitting on the ground. The man jumped backwards in surprise, hand instinctively gripping his sword handle. Hackles raised, Technoblade kept a hand on his sword, and did a patrol of the grassy park.

Wilbur laughed internally at the man's paranoia. He was sitting in the tree as a robin. Instantaneous teleportation made it fun to mess with people. Being a god made it fun to mess with people. 

Technoblade did one more sweep on the area before settling back down against the tree with his sword drawn and settled across his lap. It didn’t look like the monster hunter was going to fall back asleep. The god took off after watching him for a few minutes. A pub a few streets down was calling his name. It would need a substitute bard if the crowd wanted to party until the sun dawned.

    The god of music walked back out of the alcohol soaked building at day break. The drunken party was still roaring behind him. With the god’s blessing, the festivities would continue until noon. 

    Crosstown was alive with business now. The namesake intersection of the north-south and east-west trade road ran through the center of town and the deity had to transform into a sparrow to avoid the caravans and reckless horse riders. In the crowded streets, no one would notice a quiet act of magic. And if they did there were too many people for them to know who had done it. 

    When he returned to the park, Technoblade had disappeared from beneath his tree. A few children were playing knights with fallen sticks. Wilbur asked, and they pointed him to the sheriff’s office. It was a fair distance away from the main intersections.

    Wilbur transformed into a lark, and flew away to the sounds of the children shouting in amazement. He caught up with the monster hunter as the cloak wearing man turned the last corner on the way to the law office. 

Technoblade jumped when the bird landed on his shoulder and spun around, trying to knock his apparently attacker off his shoulder. Once he realized it was just a bird, the adrenaline seemed to drain out of him. The fighter took a moment to get his heart rate back under control, then started to shoo the animal away. 

The deity in disguise simply fluttered to the man’s other shoulder, undeterred. After the lark hopped between his shoulders a few more times, the monster hunter seemed to accept that the bird wasn’t going anywhere and stopped trying to spook it away. He then continued to walk towards his destination. 

Technoblade pushed the door to the sheriff’s office and made a beeline for a bulletin board. From his shoulder, Wilbur could read that the papers plastering the cork surface were bounties or wanted posters, whether for people or monsters. The cloaked man pulled down his hood, and tore one of the papers off the wall. He set it on the front desk of the office. 

A bell attached to the door had rung when they’d first walked in. A man in a sheriff’s uniform emerged from the back as the monster hunter freed the bloody bag from his belt and set it on the table beside the bounty poster. 

The lawman looked perturbed by the sack, dried blood flaking onto his otherwise clean desk. Technoblade untied the string on the bag, showing the contents to the lawman. 

From the perch on the man’s shoulder, Wilbur could see the bloody items inside. A scorpion stinger the size of a human head sat nestled between several claws and two bloody canines. Trophies that Technoblade must have collected from his kill to prove his victory.

“Manticore hiding in the swamp to the south by Willowhill that was killing livestock.” He pushed the bounty paper towards the man on the other side of the desk. 

The sheriff froze under Technoblade’s gaze. After a moment, he recollected himself and disappeared into the back. He returned with another piece of paper that had several sentences and phrases printed on it. Technoblade stood patiently as the lawman copied several things from the poster onto the new piece of paper.

The monster hunter was apparently familiar with this process. When the sheriff stopped writing and began looking up, the man simply stated his name as, “Technoblade,” before the officer even asked him anything. The lawman wrote on a line at the bottom of the paper, beside the words, “Bounty collected by”. The second piece of paper looked to be an official record that the bounty had been completed. 

Once he was done writing, the man rolled up both the new paper and the bounty poster, setting them somewhere below the desk. Wilbur watched the man go into the back room one final time, and return with a sizable big that jingled as he walked. Technoblade took the reward from the officer. He left without another world, almost throwing the lark off his shoulder with how fast he turned around. 

Outside, the monster hunter fastened the sack full of coins to his belt and pulled the hood back over his head. The muddy red cloak didn’t stick out much among the colorful city population, but the pink hair was obscenely eye catching.

Technoblade turned to the lark on his shoulder. With resignation in his eyes, he asked, “You’re not going to leave, are you.” 

Wilbur chirped once and fluttered to sit on top of the man’s red hood. Technoblade let out an extended sigh, apparently accepting his fate as a taxi for the songbird. 

The deity rode for several minutes. Before long, he realized that the monster hunter was returning to the same park as the night before. The man settled back down against the trunk of the same tree after he looked around the grassy area, only seeing the playing children. 

The lark hopped off Technoblade’s shoulder. Wilbur sat in the grass, watching the man. When he’d had his hood down in the sheriff's office, Wilbur was surprised to see that his hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. Let down, the pink hair would reach a little past his shoulders.

The monster hunter set both the reward bag, and retrieved the empty, smaller bag from where it was tied to his belt. He moved several fistfuls of the precious coins from the larger bag into the smaller one. Once he was done, Technoblade looped the smaller bag back onto his belt and picked up the larger one. 

Getting to his feet, the hunter whistled, grabbing the kids’ attention. He tossed the bag full of money on the ground. He’d left the draw string untied and coins spilled out across the grass. Technoblade turned on his heel, walking away as the children descended on the money like starving vultures. The god fluttered back onto the man’s shoulder.

He stayed there until they were outside of the city. The monster hunter had avoided the main trade routes, instead opting to walk through the alleyways until he reached the forest north-west of Crosstown. Once they were firmly out of eyesight, Wilbur hopped off of Technoblade’s shoulder. The lark hovered in front of the man, before retaking his more human form. 

Technoblade blinked slowly, and then cocked his head to the side. “So that was you.”

“What gave it away?” Wilbur felt a grin slip onto his face. “Well-” the hunter kept his tired gaze locked on the deity, “-if you were a mage sent by the royal guard, you would have already tried to kill me. And most other magicians avoid me like a plague.”

“Why’s that?” The god cocked his head to the side

“Being cursed sucks.”

“Hmmm,” Wilbur rocked from side to side for a moment. “Are you still up to do my trials?”

The man shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Let’s shake on it, then.” He extended a hand.

Technoblade stared at Wilbur's hand, then lethargically pulled one of his own out of his red cloak. He hesitated for just a moment, but eventually gripped Wilbur’s palm and shook it. 

The next moment, he opened his eyes, and was someone entirely different. The fighter was standing on top of a massive marble pillar. A glance over the edge revealed a drop into darkness. Even with his perfect night vision, Techno couldn’t see the bottom.

“Technoblade!”

He spun around on a dime, pulling his weapon out of its sheath at the same time. A diamond axe now sat heavy in his hand. In front of him, was the man he’d been speaking to. The pillar he was standing on was taller than Techno’s, and too far to try and jump for. 

Gone were the street clothes the man had been wearing. Instead, a black wrought crown sat on his head and he was dressed lavishly in a blue and gold. An overhead light shown from somewhere the monster hunter couldn’t identify.

He pointed at Techno as he spoke. “I’ve heard stories about you, Technoblade. And from what I’ve heard, I think that I may have some answers for you.”

“Cool.” Techno glanced around the void they were standing in. He’d faced a few magic users, but never one that could make an illusion this convincing.

The magician walked towards the edge of the pillar he stood on. “Do you know who I am, Mr. Technoblade?”

"Not very high on my priority list right now.” The hunter spun around to glance at his surroundings, in case there was anything he could use. Only more darkness.

“I, am Wilbur Soot.” The man dramatically pressed a hand to his chest. “God of music and trials.”

Okay, that grabbed Techno’s attention.

The deity gestured towards the nothing around him. “I’ve got a couple of challenges set up for you. And I cannot wait to see how you do with them.”

Techno shifted his grip on his axe.

“I’ll see you in a bit! I really do hope you live up to your legend.” 

Wilbur snapped his fingers just as Technoblade released his hatchet. It was aimed directly at the god’s chest. The monster hunter didn’t see if the weapon made contact. The pillar beneath his feet vanished, and he plunged into the darkness below.

Chapter Text

He didn’t remember hitting the ground. Techno opened his eyes and was lying on a stone floor. Walls of the same rough hewn material rose far above the hunter’s eye sight. The only thing he could see above the walls was a beacon of golden light. A clear goal was set before him; he had to get to the light to complete the trial. 

The cursed man redrew his weapon. The item emerged a one handed sword. The edge of the blade was coated in shimmering blood. He didn’t know how badly an axe to the chest would hurt a god, but Techno let himself take comfort in the fact that it could be injured. But also felt a bolt of anxiety shoot through him. Techno had killed many things. The only other thing that had ever bled gold was himself. 

Technoblade kept the weapon in his hand, and delved into the rounded maze.

Sticking to the right wall, Techno dragged the tip of his sword along the curving stone. The magic weapon cut a divot into the stone. Any normal blade would have dulled after minutes of the abuse. The monster hunter smirked to himself and continued walking. The horrible noise of crystal against stone cried out behind him. 

He’d had the sword for thousands of years and it was still as sharp as the day he’d woken up with it on his hip. After a bit of walking and a few split paths, the maze widened into a room about 20 feet across. The floor was carved into ascending stone steps with a cockatrice asleep in the center. 

Following the curve of the room wall, he crept towards the threshold that would take him and out back out into the labyrinth. As he placed one foot through the doorway, something hissed behind him. Technoblade threw himself to the side as the cockatrice lunged at where he’d been moments before. 

The reptilian rooster sailed through the air and landed in the hallway in front of the him. The bird turned back around to face its opponent, brilliant plumage shimmering in the low light. The monster hunter made eye contact as he brandished his sword. 

A shiver ran down his spine. After a moment, the cockatrice lunged again. The sword severed its neck easily. Blood splattered Techno’s front. He turned around without another thought, leaving the still moving body of the monster seizing on the stone floor. 

The monster hunter was certain that he’d been wandering for days by the time the winding passages opened up again. His eyes had fully adjusted and the red blood had dried on his clothes and sword. He faced a gray gryphon.

The beautiful creature was wide awake in the center of the stone arena. Snarling and flaring its wings, the monster tried to scare off the man. Techno noticed that the largest feathers on the tips of its wings were missing. The animal was grounded without its flight feathers. Techno shifted the grip on his sword. Gryphons were smart creatures. They’d flee if they were outclassed with nothing on the line. 

He kept the blade between him and the creature as he edged around the circular space. Reaching the exit of the room, the monster hunter tried to back out the opening. His back hit something solid.

The gray gryphon in front of him lashed its tail, and let out a warning warble. Techno risked a glance behind him. A golden barrier illuminated wherever he touched it. Ripples emerged from the points of contact, and bounced stone surrounding the barrier, illuminating it even when he was no longer touching it.

An avian shriek throttled his attention. The monster hunter threw himself into a roll as the gryphon lunged at him, slamming hard into the barrier as well. For Technoblade, that impact solidified the intention of his trial. 

After he’d tried to not kill the cockatrice, Wilbur wasn’t going to let him avoid another fight. He’d have to kill the gryphon if he wanted to move on. This was a trial by combat.

Getting back to his feet, the monster hunter gave his opponent a moment to do the same. Again, the gryphon lept. Techno swung, and the blade severed two digits from its front right claw as smoothly as running a butter knife through an open jar of honey. The creature’s other talon tore through the soft part of his stomach. The gryphon slammed him into the floor, disemboweling him. He lost his grip on the sword. Rearing back, the bird dug its beak into his abdominal cavity, tearing the man to shreds.

Through the pain, Techno lashed out with his feet. He landed a kick somewhere. The gryphon cried out in pain, and pulled its head out of the man’s golden entrails. His left hand made contact with the hilt of his sword. 

Techno grabbed the weapon and swung it over his body, fully severing the dismembered limb and taking off the tip of the monster’s beak. The bird reared on its back legs in agony. Pressing his hand to his ravaged organs, he staggered to his feet. 

The creature kept its bleeding stump pulled close to its chest. The monster hunter could already feel the uncomfortable warmth rising in his torso and the bleeding slowing. Hissing, the gryphon staggered towards Techno with an uneven gate. He dodged towards its injured side. The bird extended its wing to hit him. 

The sword sunk easily through the limb and bone, separating it at the joint. Pulling all the way through the muscles of the wing, Techno changed the trajectory of the blade and slashed through the animal’s tail near the base. The man stumbled to a stop against the wall. He was coated in his own blood as well as the blood of his enemy. 

Any intelligence in the monster’s eyes had vanished. Its ear tufts were soundly pressed against its head and its pupils were slits. It attacked with a savagery that even surprised the monster hunter. There were no breaks between its assaults, and Techno only got in a few minor cuts before the gryphon pinned him to the floor and mauled him. 

After a period that Techno could only imagine, the monster fell on its side. The blood from its severed limbs covered the room. It was still bleeding heavily from the stumps. Getting to his feet, the cursed man redrew his sword.

The magnificent creature’s breathing was labored. Its gray feathers were coated in both the man’s golden blood and its own red fluid. Sentience and fear had slithered back into the gryphon’s yellow eyes. 

The monster hunter carefully ran his hand over the wounded animal’s torso. Finding the gap in the ribs that should lead to the heart, he readied his sword. With a final strike, the gryphon gave up the fight. 

He left the sword in the beast’s side and staggered towards the exit. 

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had been torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake. 

The barrier didn't stop him.

Tommy looked away from projection.

“Well, that wasn’t very pretty.”

The young god was sitting on the surface of one of Wilbur’s signature pillars in the void of his domain. Another, smaller dais had risen from the center, and with a light projection showing Technoblade’s movements on top of it. Wilbur was standing off to the side, swiping his hands through floating images showing different pieces and aspects of the labyrinth trial. 

“It usually isn’t. Most people don’t walk out of a fight with a gryphon, period.” 

Tommy looked back at the feed playing in front of him. He propped his head on his hand, and watched the bloodied man delve back into the dark maze. He was quiet for a moment, before asking, “He’s not human, is he?”

Wilbur shook his head. “No. He’s definitely a god.”

“You know what he is?”

“Nope. Probably something combat related because he heals incredibly fast.” Wilbur rubbed his shoulder, thinking about how the axe had sunken in. The wound had closed in a few days, but the joint still ached slightly. It had been a long time since the music god had been injured. 

The younger of the two snorted. “Dream will be happy about that. He hasn’t had anyone good to fight in a while.” He wafted his hand through the display in front of him. Tubbo had joined him when Wilbur had invited them to watch Techno fight the cockatrice, but his friend had turned down the invitation after he’d been told this fight would be even bloodier. 

Pushing himself up from his sitting position, Tommy walked over to look at what his brother was messing with. 

“Do you have anything else planned so far?”

The movements of Wilbur’s hands hesitated for a moment, but picked back up as he answered with, “I was planning on having him face a sphinx, but he kinda seems like a meat head. Would probably just fight his way through it.”

Tommy nodded. “I can see that.”

“I’ll probably give him one more big opponent, and then call this trial good and work on the next one.”

“Ooooo. ” Tommy leaned in closer to look at his brother’s projects. “Can I know what the monster will be?”

Wilbur smirked. “Nope.” He ignored the other god’s antics of throwing his hands in the air and storming away from Wilbur. 

The god of music turned away from his project to look at his little brother. “You’ll just have to wait until Technoblade finds it.” 

Groaning dramatically, Tommy plopped back down beside the projection. It had only been a few minutes and all of the monster hunter’s wounds had already healed. 

He was quiet for a moment, before saying, “You’ll come get me again, right? Like when he finds the next monster?”

Wilbur nodded. “Of course. I’m probably gonna bring a few others as well.”

“Can you tell me who?”

“Phil and Dream.”

“Fuck yeah! They’ll love this.”

A smile slid onto Wilbur's face. His brother's enthusiasm was infectious. Tommy was the god of excitement and entertainment, after all. 

The music god hid his smile by turning back to his work. “Now get out of my hair.” Wilbur waved a hand towards Tommy without turning around. He felt something shift, indicating that Tommy had been banished from the domain.

Standing up straighter, Wilbur fully focused his attention back to the task at hand. 

He had to start working on the next one now.

The man has lost track of how long he'd been in the maze. His hair had reached the bottom of his shoulder blades, so at least a few days. Techno was still matted head to toe in his own gore. 

When red blood gets on fabric, it hardens and stains, clotting and solidifying. Techno's blood doesn't harden. It soaks in and dyes anything it touches a brilliant gold that no amount of scrubbing can remove. It looked like the man was covered in paint instead of his own viscera.

The winding paths opened into another arena. A massive, bipedal wyvern stood in the middle of the room. Gold, royal blue, and black, the monster was clearly designed by the god of music. The monster hunter took a moment to steel himself before entering the room.

Wyverns weren’t as intelligent as gryphons, and lacked the sentience and telepathy of their larger draconic cousins. Instead of focused telepathy for communication, wyverns emitted a constant projection of their current emotion. When angered, it would paralyze the wyvern’s attackers, turning them into sitting ducks.

Techno had never been affected by a wyverns anger. Normal humans would need a magic item to protect them, but a false-dragon’s rage had never stopped him. He’d only been truly affected by a wyvern’s emotions once.

The monster had lived on a mountain, and was stealing sheep and cattle from a ranch. Techno had been paid to kill it. When he reached the lip of the cavern, the cursed man was stopped in his tracks. 

The monster hunter fell to his knees. Tears cut tracks through the grime on his face as the unadulterated love filtering out of the cave forced all thoughts out of Techno’s head. His sword slipped out of his grip, clattering to the floor and drawing the wyvern’s attention. The spell was broken.

Techno let out a breath he didn’t notice he was holding. Anger rolled over him, a welcome relief from his frozen state previously. With control back over his body, the monster hunter made short work of the monster. He was coated in both his blood and the wyvern’s by the time it was dead. 

A nest full of eggs sat in the center of the room. They were what the beast had been coddling. Techno smashed them and grabbed a few trophies from the mother before making his way back down the mountain. He made sure that the tear tracks on his face were covered up by mud and dust before he stepped out of the cave.

The wyvern in the maze was the largest that the monster hunter had ever seen. It was easily 30 feet from nose to tail tip. The membrane of its wings were torn to ribbons, keeping the serpent grounded in the maze.

Shifting his grip on the sword, Techno sprinted into the room. The false dragon met his charge. Its jaws missed his head by inches. The monster hunter could feel his teeth rattle in his skull from the impact. Keeping his momentum, he lunged upwards and the sword bit through the softer hide of the wyvern’s belly. 

The beast screamed in pain. Leaving the weapon buried in its torso, the man hurried out from under the hulkering creature. The wyvern dropped to the floor and thrashed wildly, trying to crush its attacker. Techno was a fair distance away before something hit him in the back. 

Ribs cracked in his chest as the monster’s tail impacted him. Thrown across the stone floor, Techno slid to a stop against the curved wall. He could taste horribly sweet blood.

Breathing hard, Techno got to his feet. On the other side of the arena, the wyvern stopped flailing, and hurried upright, locking its gaze back on its opponent. Blood slopped out of the laceration in the wyvern’s torso. Its frantic movements had only driven the weapon farther and worsened the attack.  The blade had already returned to Techno’s sheath. He redrew it, blue crystal barely visible through the red gore.

From a wound that size, the monster would bleed out, eventually. But Techno wanted this to end quickly. 

The beast roared, and charged once again. Maw open, it aimed to shred its assailant to pieces. Techno steadied his grip on the sword. He met the false dragon’s charge, plunging the blade through the roof on its mouth as its jaws snapped down on his arm, severing it cleanly. 

He fell back. Shock ran through his system chasing out any logical thoughts. Sitting on the floor, his eyes numbly watched the wyvern take a few shocked steps backwards. It collapsed, blood pooling on the ground around its open mouth. By the time Techno snapped out of his haze, his arm was fully healed and his weapon was back in its sheath.

The cursed man got to his feet, and stumbled out of the stone arena without looking back at the corpse.

Philza hissed as the wyvern took off Technoblade’s arm. For not being a combat specific god, the winged god healed quickly, but losing limbs was never a fun experience. His sympathy was drowned out by Tommy yelling in celebration. Frowning, the god smacked his little brother over the head with one of his wings. 

Tommy yelped and turned to look at Phil. “What was that for?”

The older god flung his arms out dramatically, his wings mimicking the motion. "The man just lost an arm, Tommy! You shouldn't be celebrating."

The young god waved off the elder's concern, turning back to watch the projection. "Ehhhhh, he'll be fine."

Phil furrowed his brow, but turned back to the trial. The pink haired man was sitting in a pile on the floor as the false-dragon swiftly bled out nearby. He was filthy and coated in golden ichor. 

After a minute, and staggered out of the puddle of his own blood and towards the exit of the room. Phil quietly judged him for leaving his only weapon in the corpse of the beast. He quickly rescinded that judgement when he noticed the blade back in the scabbard on Technoblade’s hip. 

The fourth person in the room watched silently as Tommy cheered and Phil watched, transfixed by the image of the man in front of him. 

Dream looked to Wilbur, who was once again messing with the layout of the maze and cleaning up the mess the monster hunter left behind. 

“Wilbur.” The god of the hunt drew the attention of his fellow deity away from the trial he was working on.

The god of music hummed a note, his way of indicating that he was listening.

“Do you know what he is?”

Wilbur shook his head. “Probably something combat related. His weapon always comes back to him, and he heals really quickly.” The god rubbed his shoulder where Technoblade’s axe had sunk into it. The injury was fully healed, but the memory still lingered.

Dream hummed in thought.

“Do you have the other trials planned out?” 

The god of music nodded, paused, and shook his head. “I have the next one mostly planned out, but I don’t know what the third one will be yet,” he elaborated.

“If he is as good as you’re saying, then I want to fight him.” 

Wilbur finally looked away from his work to give the god an odd look.

Dream nodded his head towards the projection Phil and Tommy were fawning over. “He killed a wyvern with two attacks, and under 4 minutes. Even with him losing a limb, that’s amazing.”

The god of music paused, and then turned back to the trial. “I’ll consider it.”

“I want in on the second trial then.” Philza stood up from the projection. 

“That’s fairly doable. Give me a few days to adjust some things. I’ll come get you when he finishes this trial.” Wilbur moved a few more things around on his workspace. 

Phil nodded. The winged god glanced back at his brother who was still enraptured by the bloodied man in the projection. 

“Tommy, are you ready to go?” 

The younger god hadn’t gotten the hang of warping out of other’s domains, so he needed help most of the time. 

The god of excitement looked up from the image of Technoblade in front of him, and said, “Yeah, I can go.” He turned to Wilbur. “You said there's nothing else planned for this trial, right?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna take him a few more days to get to the center of the maze, but there’s no other monsters waiting.”

“Yeah, then I’m good to go.” Tommy stood up from the platform and strolled over to Phil. The winged god set a hand on the younger’s shoulder, and then they were gone. 

Dream gave Wilbur a nod, and vanished as well, leaving the deity, once again, to his own devices.

After several more days of marking the wall with the blade of his weapon, Techno reached the beacon of light in the center. The bright beam hurt his eyes. A stone button sat on a podium in the middle of the room. 

Shifting his axe to his other hand, Techno paused for a moment, and then pressed the mechanism. 

And he was back on the marble pillar in the void. 

Wilbur was once again standing on another pillar, as gaudy and brilliant as before. 

“Congratulations, Technoblade! You’ve completed your first trial.” 

Techno placidly watched as the god gestured dramatically to him. 

“You did much better than I expected, to be honest.”

“You didn’t expect me to survive,” Techno translated.

The deity leaned back on his heels and brought his hand to his chin with a mock thoughtful expression in his face. “Well, no.” He lowered his hand a bit, turning his eyes back to the monster hunter. “People don’t survive getting mauled by a gryphon or losing an arm to a wyvern. And they definitely don’t survive a staring match with a cockatrice.”

Techno shrugged. “Being cursed sucks.”

Wilbur stopped in motion for a moment, before regaining his energy. “Well, I think you’ll enjoy this next test much more.”

The man blinked, unimpressed. “Is it going to be another maze?”

“It probably won’t be another maze.”

“I’ll take it.”

With a smile on his face, the god raised a hand. “I hope to see you again soon, Technoblade!”

He snapped, and the pillar disappeared from under the monster hunter’s feet, plunging him back into the dark below. 

Chapter Text

Techno woke up face down on a forest floor. He rolled over, and was faced with the tallest trees he’d ever seen. A navy sky fought through the foliage as the sun sat low on the horizon, casting massive shadows across the needle and leaf coated floor. 

The patch of ground Techno had landed on was swept clean of organic material, leaving bare dirt. On one side of the clearing was a stone statue of a person. Opposite the statue was a footpath that wound around the trees and disappeared into the distance. Techno got to his feet and approached the monument

It should have been a life size monument of a person standing on a small pedestal, sword drawn and held out in front of them with a pair of wings spread behind him. Instead, the arm had broken off and fallen to the dirt floor. The wings had likewise broken off near their bases, and foliage had grown over the broken limbs.

Time had worn the statue’s face smooth, and removed several of the letters from the plaque on the bottom pedestal. The first part of the starting word was the most damaged, but the rest of the script was fairly legible. 

It read, “----ZA, GOD OF SURVIVAL AND SOLITUDE. PATRON OF CHILDREN AND THE HURT. PROTECTOR OF THIS FOREST AND THE ONES IN IT.”

If he focused, a script running along the blade of the fallen sword read “Justice”. It’s name most likely.

Even severely worn down, the statue seemed content in its current state. If this really was a land blessed by a deity, Techno doubted they would have let age damage an image of them so. This whole area would have been created by Wilbur, but the monster hunter wouldn’t put it past him to get a few other gods involved. The deities of the land were well acquainted with one another.

The sun had risen slightly. Techno’s blood dyed clothes shimmered in the growing daylight. Turning away from the statue, he started down the trodden path. After spending days on end wandering circles around a stone labyrinth, Techno was surprised to reach civilization after only an hour’s walk. 

A small village was set up surrounding a central well. There was no movement in the windows, but the location seemed lived in. Gardens were well kept and wheel tracks were freshly made in the dew dampened dirt. But this was just all a setting made by Wilbur. Simulating a fully functioning town would be difficult and time consuming, even for a god. 

Letting that train of thought fizzle out, Techno gravitated towards the only building in the central plaza with light on inside. A sign outside the building declared it the Core Inn . Opening the door revealed a room full of tables that should be brimming with patrons. Instead, the only moving figure was polishing some glasses behind.

Blond with stubble and a green and white bucket hat. He looked kind enough. His most eye catching features were the massive black wings on his back, though. 

At the sound of the doors, he looked up. The bartender didn’t look very surprised at the sign of someone wearing gold stained clothes stumbling in. Instead, he just waved Techno towards the bartop. 

Techno sat down at the bar, and was incredibly relieved when the man turned around before speaking. He didn’t have the energy for a face to face conversation right now. 

“What brings you to my little town?”

Techno set his head down on the wooden tabletop. “Can we please not do this, right now?” He knew he was filthy, but he was so tired of being awake. 

There was a pause before the man let out a questioning, “Alright?” After a moment, he continued with, “What do you want to do then?”

The monster hunter groaned. “I just want a bed. I don’t have money, but I can pay you back with work.”

His bag of money had gotten torn off during the fight with the gryphon. Techno didn’t need sleep, but he wanted nothing more than to stop thinking for a few hours. Wandering through a maze for weeks was far from the most stimulating things, and the contrast from blank stone walls to the wind blowing through a forest was overwhelming. 

“Okay, I can probably find something for you to do around here. Come on, then-” he parsed that sentence by softly knocking on the table by Techno’s head “-follow me.”

Techno took a moment, but slid off the stool. The man led him down a hall lined with doors to various rooms. Pulling a keyring off his belt, he unlocked the door and held it open. Techno walked right past him and was asleep before he even hit the bed surface. 

When he woke up, starlight was struggling to fight through the canopy of the forest outside his window. . The monster hunter tried to bury himself in the blankets of the bed and disappear for a few more precious hours, but his eternally healing body would only let him sleep for so long. 

Techno hadn’t slept indoors in years. It was cheaper to sleep outdoors, and it involved less human interaction. A win for everyone involved, in his expert opinion. His gold stained boots moved silently over the finished wooden floor. 

Walking around the corner, he was faced with an even emptier tavern setting than the day before. Even the bartender was gone. The lamps on the walls were still lit, though. A note sat on the end of the bar, facing towards the hall Techno emerged from. 

It read, “Gone out to do something. There’s a bath drawn up in the room behind the kitchen with clean clothes. You look like you could use it.”

The gore coated man set the note face down on the bartop, and went to see what was beyond the kitchen. True to the note’s promise, a large tub full of water sat in the room, along with soap, towels, and fresh clothes. He locked the sliding bolts on both doors and stripped out of his tattered clothes. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper bath. The closest he’d gotten was walking in the rain, or getting thrown into a river or lake by a monster. The water of the bath was even pleasantly warm. Techno certainly took his sweet time, washing himself and the blood out of his hair. If he could, he would have fallen back asleep in the warmth of the water.

But eventually, Techno pulled himself out of the tub and toweled off. He dried his hair the best he could. It was already down to his lower back, and he’d need to cut it soon. Techno glanced over at his sheath, which had moved itself out of his pile of discarding clothing, and was now leaning against the side of the tub. 

The man’s expression fell at the physical reminder of his curse, and decided against cutting it right now. The hair was one of the few aspects of his affliction he didn’t mind. Techno liked having his hair long, but it often got in his way and was a lot to take care of. He could cut it when he left the small town.

Right now, he let it hang loose and put on the clothes provided to him.  A plain white shirt and black pants that were nearly identical to the ones he’d been wearing before, along with a deep green cloak. Green wasn’t normally his color, but it would do until it changed. He pulled on the boots, and walked back out into the kitchen. 

Despite it still being dark outside, the bartender had returned, and was reading a book on the other side of the counter top. A glance at the back of the bar revealed very little. Only about 3 glasses and a singular, unopened bottle of wine met Techno’s vision. Whenever Wilbur had created this place, he’d done a very poor job of detailing it. 

While the monster hunter had been silently judging the deity’s decorative abilities, the winged bartender had closed his book. Techno looked up at the man. He took that as his cue to speak. 

“My name’s Phil. It’s nice to meet you.”

Techno nodded and simply offered, “Technoblade.” 

Phil didn’t seem discouraged by his curt reply. Instead the winged man pushed himself off the bar stool and walked around to the back of the bar. Taking the hint, Techno moved back to the front and sat down on a stool. 

“Do you want something to eat?” The bartender was facing away from Techno, resting his hand against the door to the kitchen. 

The monster hunter hummed for a moment, before answering with, “sure.”

The feathered man nodded, and entered the back room, leaving Techno alone in the mainroom of the inn. About 30 seconds later, Phil re-emerged with a plate full of steaming hot food. 

That shouldn’t have been possible. Techno had been in that kitchen not even 30 seconds ago, and none of the appliances were lit. Wilbur wouldn’t have been able to change something that small that fast. Deity rarely worked on microscale unless they were there physically. Phil would’ve had to have made it. 

But that was neither here nor there. Right now, Techno’s attention was fully focused on the meal in front of him. He may not need to eat, but he hadn’t eaten in months and the food in front of him smelled really good. 

Phil chuckled as Techno dug in. Techno ignored him. The meal was just a potato with salt and butter, and some carrots and peas on the side, but it tasted like heaven. If he had been a normal man, he definitely would have burnt his mouth. 

In ten minutes flat, Techno had cleared the plate. The bartender whisked the plate away and set a glass of water in front of the man. That disappeared just as quickly.

Phil set that back in the kitchen as well. Techno bet that if he went back there, there wouldn’t be a plate or glass in sight. Instead, he just ran a hand through his hair, and looked to the winged man. 

“What can I do to repay my debt?” Techno wanted to get out of this town as fast as possible.

Phil thought for a moment, and answered with, “Go strip down your bed, and wash it in the creek behind the building. There’s a washboard against the outside wall. I’ll clean up the bath.”

The monster hunter tilted his head, “Should we wait until day?” 

The winged man had already walked into the kitchen, but Techno heard him shout, “It is day!,” through the walls. 

A glance out the windows revealed Phil to be right. The sun was up over the horizon, casting the same long shadows Techno had seen yesterday. 

The cursed man blinked. It had definitely been night time only a few minutes ago. Techno stood up, and shook off the lingering confusion. Once he got out of this weird town, things would stabilize. He just needed to finish working for Phil first. 

Walking back into his room, Techno began pulling the sheets off the bed. Most of the blankets were still neatly folded and tucked away under the bed frame, so he only had to clean the stuff that directly on top that he’d slept on. 

True to Phil’s word, a washboard and a bar of soap were sitting on top of a barrel outside the back of the inn. This town definitely wasn’t real. Someone would have stolen the washboard if anyone else lived here. 

But he wasn’t here to question the world building of Wilbur's domain. Instead, he stripped off his boots and socks, folded his new cloak, and left them in the grass away from the running water. The crick bed was entirely stones and pepp. The water ran clear and Techno could see the bottom. So he got to work scrubbing the mud and sweat out of the bedsheet.

That’s where Phil found him, ten minutes later. Saying nothing, the winged man took off his shoes and socks and joined Techno in the water. The stream was about ten feet across, and sluggishly winding through the forest side, so Phil could sit on the far bank and dip his feet in the water without disturbing the other man’s work. 

    A comfortable silence sat over the two as the monster hunter noticed another odd thing about the forest. There were no birds singing or insects chirping. The only noises came from the river babbling and Techno rubbing the filth out of the fabric. Just one more thing to add to the inaccuracies of this domain. 

After a few more minutes of scrubbing, Techno gathered up the material in his arms and waded to the center of the brook to rinse it out. Once all the loose dirt was washed away, he bundled the material up and looked towards Phil. 

“Where do you want me to put this?”

The winged man pushed himself to his feet, and took the sheet from the monster hunter’s grip. “I’ll hang it on the line.” He turned and walked out of the river, towards a clothesline hung between the side of the inn and a nearby tree that definitely had been there before Phil had turned around. 

That was a bit much, even for Techno’s suspension of disbelief. He’d have to confront the winged man about it later. Right now he turned back to cleaning the other sheet. The fact that he was hanging out with an all powerful deity was future Techno’s problem. Right now, he had to get out of debt of the all powerful deity in question.

Techno’s attention was split between washing the material in his hand, and watching Phil wrestle the fabric up and over the clothes line. He was doing it fairly well, but the cursed man was more enraptured with how Phil’s wings moved along with him. 

The deity’s attention was solely focused on manipulating the sheet, and Techno was fascinated as the man out precariously leaned one way, only for his opposite wing to extend and counterbalance him. Originally the wings looked almost pure black, but they seemed to reflect a deep purple color in the daylight. 

Phil finished securing the fabric and turned to face Techno. The monster hunter averted his gaze, turning back to the washboard in his hand. In a few more minutes, the other sheet was cleaned, rinsed, and handed off to Phil again. 

Techno waded out of the river, and futilely tried to shake the water out of his shirt sleeves. The front of his shirt and pants were soaked, along with the ends of his hair. Ringing as much water out of his hair, he gathered up his shoes and cloak. He’d leave them off until the rest of his clothes dried out. 

Leaving Phil to continue wrestling the damp cloth, Techno wandered back inside the building. He sat back down at the bar and continued running his hands through his long hair, trying to get as many tangles out as possible. The monster hunter barely noticed when Phil entered the inn.

Most of his focus stayed on playing with his own hair, but a small portion did stay locked on the winged man, as he walked into the kitchen and out of Techno’s sight. 

A couple minutes later, he re-emerged with two bowls in hand. One was set in front of the Techno, and the other he sat down with beside Techno. Phil immediately dug in. 

The cursed man took a moment to look at the stew, before doing the same. Rabbit with some root vegetables and a few spices that Techno couldn’t name. Phil certainly hadn’t cooked it by hand, but it was still very good. Before he knew it, his bowl was empty and he was tipping it up to drink the last of the precious liquid. 

A small chuckle from Phil grabbed his attention. Techno wiped at his mouth, and turned to look at the bartender. 

Phil lifted his bowl to his mouth and mimicked Techno. He was a little over enthusiastic in his attempt, because some poured over the edge and down his front. A laugh escaped from the monster hunter. Undeterred, the winged man finished off the bowl. 

 The bartender wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gathered both of their bowls. He stuck his head into the kitchen and deposited them  somewhere behind the door. When he turned around, the stains had already disappeared from his shirt.

Phil brushed his hands together, as if he had just finished an arduous task. “You can probably go to bed if you want, all the chores are done for today.”

Techno tilted his head to the side and gave him an odd look. “All we did today was laundry.”

Phil shrugged. His winged flexed and moved along with the motion. “It’s dark outside already. I’m not going to make you work at night.” He gestured towards one of the windows on the side of the room. 

Techno’s vision followed his motion. True to Phil’s word, night time had already fallen outside. The monster hunter turned back around to the sound of something shuffling. 

The noise was Phil stretching and his wings moving in tandem with his arms. The extra limbs didn’t extend outward and knock over the displayed alcohol bottles. Instead they reached upwards and the primary feathers almost tapped the rafters in the ceiling. After a moment, the wings folded back up neatly behind Phil’s back.

He rubbed at his eyes and said with a yawn, “I’m gonna to head to bed. You should probably do the same.” With that, the bartender turned his back on Techno and walked down the hall that led to the bedrooms. 

A door opened and closed out of Techno’s sight. After a moment, the cursed man re-gathered his clothes and ventured down the hall. Turning the knob to the room he’d slept in last night, pushed the door open. The bed was perfectly made with new sheets, even though Phil had been back in the room. There was a new chain lock on the door that the cursed man made use of. 

If Phil was a god, a simple piece of metal wouldn’t stop him, but it was still a nice thought on his part. The winged man had been nothing but hospitable, and Techno was going to take full advantage of that. Setting his cloak and shoes on a bedside table, Techno pulled a blanket out from under the bed frame.

Oh, and the clothes he was currently wearing were entirely dry, when they’d been wet only minutes before. Weirder things had happened today. 

He smoothed the blanket over the bedspread and crawled underneath. He’d spend a few more days in town, and then continue to wherever Wilbur wanted him to go. Either way, it would keep him from destroying more of the real world. Trouble always followed him, so it was nice to not have to worry about the destruction he always left in his wake.

Chapter Text

The next days followed a similar pattern. Techno would wake, Phil would feed him a meal, and they'd go accomplish a task or chore at a place that wasn't there the day before. Then the winged man would feed him another meal, and they'd either do another task or Phil would call it a day and it would suddenly be dark outside.

Techno quickly fell into the rhythm of spending time with his new companion. One morning they tended to a garden that had sprung up behind the inn overnight, and another afternoon they set up small game snares out in the forest.  

He was getting used to eating several meals a day and sleeping every night. It felt nice. And it would suck when he had to break the habit and go back to spending weeks on the road without pause. 

Techno shook that thought out of his head, and refocused on the food in front of him. That was future Techno’s problem. 

Over the last week and a half, he and Phil had expanded from the bar top and hopped from table to table as they saw fit. Right now, they were both sitting criss-cross on top of the furniture, eating eggs, bacon, and toast. 

Phil was saying something, but the monster hunter didn’t hear it, too caught up in his own thoughts. The winged man never seemed to mind when that happened. 

Techno scarfed down the last of his eggs and tuned back in. 

He waited for his companion to finish speaking, before asking, “What do you have planned for today?”

Phil folded his hands in front of him, like he was carefully considering his options. Though, Techno had to smile, as his wings betrayed his real intentions. They were fluffed up slightly. The monster hunter had come to translate as their owner being startled or excited by something. 

“I wanna go deer hunting.”

Techno blinked, and then nodded, the content smile staying on his face. “Sound’s good to me.” 

“Perfect!” The winged man placed his hands on the table, and pushed himself backwards, off the table. He always had to sit on the edge of the table so that his wings could hang over the side. Otherwise he had to sit on his feathers. It’s the same reason that Techno had never seen him sit in a normally backed chair.

The cursed man slid off the table with less enthusiasm than his companion. Still, he was looking forward to it. The longer he was staying with Phil, the more his walls were coming down. At the moment he didn’t mind it, but it would hurt when he had to leave. Might as well start early. 

“Hey, Phil.” 

The winged man slid to a stop on the wooden floor, hand on the doorknob. He turned around and answered with a questioning, “Hm?”

“Do you have something I can use to tie my hair up?” Techno ran his hand through his bangs, pulling them out from behind his ear as a show.

“Oh! Of course.” Phil let go of the door handle. Walking back to his friend, he pulled a length of ribbon out of pocket. He made a twirling motion with his hand. “Do you need help?” He was offering to tie up Techno’s hair.

Techno shook his head and held out his hand. “I can do it myself.”

The winged man shrugged, and handed the ribbon to his companion. 

Techno closed his fist around the small strip of cloth. He started towards the door. After a step, Phil sprung into action and hurried towards, betting his friend there and throwing open the exit. He rushed through the threshold into the outdoors. The monster hunter followed after him, making sure to latch the door shut behind him. 

Once outside, Phil stepped around the corner of the build and returned with a bow and quiver in hand from whatever liminal space he retrieved it from. Techno was fairly certain that the winged man could have summoned it right in front of him, but Phil seemed to like to pretend that he wasn’t a god. 

So Techno kept up the believing act. Instead of paying attention to another one of his associate’s oddities, he gathered his hair up with his hands, and carefully tied it into a low ponytail. Even tied up, it fell to reach his tail bone. 

Once it was secure, the monster hunter reached down to his scabbard. Over the last two weeks, the full sized sword sheath had shrunk to a smaller form, about the size of a short sword instead of a full, two handed blade. It still produced any weapon required, it had just transformed visually. 

When pulled on the pommel sticking out he was met with a manageable curved knife. He flipped the dagger from reverse grip to a normal hold. With his free hand, Techno gripped his hair a little away from where the ribbon held it. 

He settled the knife below the pony tail and a fair few inches away from where it was secured. In his periphery, Techno saw Phil’s eyes widen and take a step forward, as if he’d just figured out what his friend was doing. 

In a single, smooth motion, Techno swept the blade up, and severed the length of hair. He drew the hand that held the hair around to his front, and showed it to his companion.

“Where can I throw this away?” 

Techno watched as Phil seemed to go cycle through every grief simultaneously. So much stress built up in his shoulders, that it looked like he was going to snap in half. Then, he took a deep breath and released it. The winged man took a second to shake his wings, trying to force the newly acquired stress out of himself, before opening his eyes and looking at Techno. 

“Just, leave it on the ground. I’ll pick it up later.”

The monster hunter could see that there was still tension laced through the man’s form, most obviously in his wings. They didn’t fully settle down on his back, but the feathers started to lay flatter. Techno just nodded and dropped the hair to the ground. He wasn't sure what he'd done to upset Phil. The cursed man then let go of the dagger as well. It would return to his sheath shortly. 

He took one more moment to tighten his much shorter ponytail, before starting towards Phil. 

“I’m ready now.”

Phil gave him a once over before sighing deeping and replying with a simple, “Okay, follow me.” 

Gripping his bow, he started off into the tree line, quiver already slung over his back. Techno followed, and pulled his own weapon out of the scabbard. He found a bow in his hand, and a quiver attached to his belt instead of the regular sheath. 

They walked for maybe half an hour into the forest. The longer they traveled, the more tension leached out of Phil, until he was back to his usual cheery state. The winged man led them out of the tree line. Looking around, they were now standing at the lip of a stony cliff. Another cliff faced them from about 30 feet away, with a lower strip of land in the middle that acted as a transition from the forest to a meadow farther out. A natural choke point.

Techno could see a few deer ambling around in shadows of the trees to their right. Following his eyeline, Phil pointed at the animals.

“I want you to get behind them, and spook them into the canyon. I’m going to be around the corner-” he pointed to where the cliff dropped off, presumably into the plain below”-so that they won’t be coming right at me, but I’ll still have a good shot so I can aim for a buck.”

The monster hunter ran the plan through his head, and then nodded. A fairly solid set up with an alright chance of them heading home with a cervid. 

Phil returned the nod. “Loop around to the back of them and make a lot of noise to get them moving.” 

Techno nodded once more, and replied with, “Okay.”

With that, the winged man turned, and hopped off the side of the ledge, and out of his companion’s sight. Following Phil’s lead, the man started into the forest. He took care to not move too fast or break any branches. His gray cloak blended into the shadows of the trees. 

Over the last few weeks, the deep green had faded and been replaced with a green-gray. Into a few more days, all the green would be gone, and the fabric would start turning red instead. The same thing happened with any cloak Techno wore. They always ended up red. 

Pink hair solidly hidden under the hood, he slunk around the back of the deer herd. Once he was in position behind a tree, the monster hunter took a second to prepare himself. He then lunged out from behind his cover. Techno ran at the cervids, yelling at the top of his lungs.

One of the does shocked her head up to look at him. The entire herd lept into motion. In a second, every single deer was sprinting down the hill between the cliff faces. Techno kept after them, yelling every few seconds, even though the animals quickly outpaced him. 

In the distance, something shot out from around the corner of the cliff. It struck one of the running bucks. The deer stumbled, but continued to run. Techno swore internally and kept running. 

Phil emerged from around the edge a few seconds after all the deer had cleared the pass. The monster hunter came to a stop beside his friend, breathing hard. The winged was looking at the escaping animals with regret. 

“Can you fly with those?” Techno pointed to the wings on Phil’s back. He’d never actually seen the man take off with them. 

That snapped Phil out of his haze. “What? Of course I can.”

“I need you to grab me and get up high.” 

The winged man looked hesitant, but nodded. He made a circular motion with his hand, in concurrence with the words, “Turn around.”

Techno obliged. A moment later, Phil locked his hands under the monster hunter’s armpits, and with a burst of wind, their feet left the ground. Phil stopped going up when they were a few hundred feet up. He changed his motion from vertical to horizontal, gliding after the fleeing cervids. 

The monster hunter spotted the buck, still running with an arrow in its side. 

“Drop me.”

“What?” Phil’s wing beats changed from moving forward to keeping them hovering in place. He shook his head. “I’m not dropping you.”

He wasn’t going to drop him. Okay.

Techno fought the winged man’s grip on his torso. He managed to spin around in his companion’s hold. The cursed man pulled his foot up, and placed a boot on Phil’s chest. The monster hunter extended his leg, using his friend as a springboard. Techno broke Phils grip and began plummeting towards the ground. 

Eyes locked on the stag, Techno redrew his bow from his sheath, and notched an arrow. Fighting the downward motion, the monster hunter let the arrow fly. He didn’t see if he hit it. His attention was too focused on the fast approaching ground to see if he hit his target. The cursed man closed his eyes, waiting for the bone shattering crunch of hitting the earth. 

The wind was knocked out of him as something intercepted him midair, changing his trajectory from straight down to a sideway motion and sending him skidding through the prairie grassing. Once he slid to a stop, Techno tried to sit up. White hot pain shot through him. He had to lay back down and let his battered body heal itself. After a few moments, he got to his feet with only marginal pain. 

A few feet away, Phil was pulling himself to his feet as well. Oh. He must have tackled Techno out of the sky in order to keep him from slamming into the ground at terminal velocity. They both were covered in dirt from sliding. Phil’s feathers were pointing every which way, and some were broken and would probably need to be pulled out. 

The winged man shook himself, and tried to fold the extra limbs in, but flinched and left them half extended. Techno made his way over to his friend. 

“Are you okay?” The monster hunter was a bit worried. Phil was holding his wings weird. 

The winged man turned on Techno in an instant. “Are you mental? Why did you make me drop you?”

Techno raised his hands defensively, and took a surprised step back. “I couldn’t fire the bow while you were holding me.”

“Then let me put you down and get the deer myself!” Phil flung his arms out to the side. His wings followed the motion. The feathered limbs were quivering, but Techno couldn’t tell if it was in pain, or in rage.

“That would have taken too long.” 

“No! It wouldn’t have. And it wouldn’t have ended with you almost plowing yourself into the floor.”

Techno shrugged. “I would have lived.”

“That’s- that’s not the point, Techno. I had a solution that would have worked just as well and it wouldn’t have ended with you getting hurt.”

“But my solution was faster and simpler.”

“And it would have ended with you going splat on the ground.”

Techno nodded. “And then I would get up from that and go collect the deer.”

Phil rubbed his face with his hands for a moment and let out hissing noise. After a moment, he pulled his hands away from his face, but the tension stayed in his shoulders. “Not every problem has to have an answer that ends with you getting hurt, Techno.”

“True,” the monster hunter tilted his head to the side, “but that’s normally the most direct and easiest solution.” 

“It doesn’t have to be, though. I’d rather the solution take a little bit longer than have it go through you.” Phil punctuated his point by marching over to Techno and poking him in the sternum, hard. 

Techno took a step back in surprise. The winged man held the expression for a moment, before dropping it along with the tension in his shoulders. 

Phil turned around and motioned his hand at Techno, indicating that the cursed man should follow him. “Come on,” he postured as he walked, “let’s see if you got it.”

The conversation seemed to be over for the time being.

It took them a few minutes of searching, but the monster hunter knew that his associate had found something when Phil yelped and hopped backwards in surprise. The winged man hissed in pain as he moved his wings. Techno jogged through the waves of grass and looked down at what Phil had found. 

It was the buck. Blood was still sluggishly flowing out of the wound on its side where Phi’s arrow had struck it. The more graphic part of the animal was its head. Techno’s arrow had shattered through the back of its skull, piercing the brain. The monster hunter kneeled down by the animal. 

He opened its mouth and found the end of the broadhead protruding from the back of its throat. Drawing his weapon, Techno found a simple hunting knife, about the size of his palm. The cursed man stripped the arrow of its fletching, and pulled it the rest of the way out of the animal. 

He then made two small cuts on the sides of the other arrow and removed it as well. Techno handed the arrows to Phil. With deft hands, the cursed man field dressed the animal. Once the carcass was clean, he hefted it up and onto his shoulders. Techno turned to Phil. 

The monster hunter nodded at his friend. Phil returned the nod, and started back in the direction of the inn. Techno followed behind. 

On the way, the winged man started up another conversation. Techno was relieved as the tension between the two eased. Phil was the more talkative of the two so Techno only gave his two cents when it was clear that his friend was fishing for replies. 

Otherwise, the cursed man’s attention had turned to the weather. Before, it has been pleasantly warm, with no clouds in the sky for the weeks that Techno had been here. He didn’t even know what season it was. 

Now, a solid layer of cloud coated the sky above and a chill blew through the trees. Techno didn’t mind. If anything, he’d say that the colder weather was Phil’s way of helping to preserve the deer longer. The cold didn’t bother him, but the blood soaking through his cloak and into his shirt was a bit uncomfortable.

Gods, Phil really was spoiling him. Two weeks and he was already uncomfortable with being covered in gore. 

Eventually they made it back to the empty village. With a rope provided by Phil, the deer was hung by the antlers from a bough to age and finish cooling off. After it was secured, the winged man hurried inside. Techno trailed after him. 

Phil sat on one of the tables and carefully extended one of his wings, hissing at pain of the motion. Golden fluid leaked from certain locations between the feathers. Carefully, Phil started straightening the plumes. Whenever he found one that was broken and bleeding, the deity carefully pulled it out. He’d then press down on the hurt location to stem the shimmering gore. After a few seconds, he’d remove the finger and move onto the next spot. Only a couple minutes into working, there was already a pile of broken feathers forming. 

A few minutes later, the winged being seemed to remember that there was someone else in the building. He pulled his head up from where it was stuck in his feather and turned to look at Techno. Phil patted a spot on the table behind him.

“You can help if you want.”

Techno was thankful for the invitation. Otherwise he’d just have to continue standing there like a dead fish. He scrambled onto the tabletop, but hesitated to touch the wing in front of him. 

“What… do I do?”

Phil chuckled softly. “Start at the base, and kind of run your hands through them like you’re combing them. Get them to lay as flat as you can. And if you find any that are broken and bleeding, just pull them out.”

“... alright.”

The backs of the wings were clearly more roughed up than the insides, probably from the harsh landing and sliding through the grass. Techno hesitantly threaded his fingers through the short feathers near where the wings attached to god’s back. A shiver ran through Phil at the contact, but he didn’t say anything. So Techno continued. Cautiously, he began working his way along the limb, plucking any broken feathers and following Phil’s own example by applying pressure to the spots where they were removed. 

Everytime he pulled one out, the wing shook lightly in his grip, but it never tried to pull away. The wing’s owner refrained from conversation, too focused on preening himself. So Techno started talking instead. He spoke about whatever he could think of.

How one time while exploring he stumbled upon the den of an ice elemental and was frozen solid for a whole winter, until the ground thawed in the spring and the elemental was too weak to fight back. Or how he’d kept a journal once, only to lose it when it fell out of his coat and later learned that someone had found it, and published it as “a surprising immersive account of an immortal wandering the world.”

Anything he could think of, Techno spoke it to fill the silence. Eventually, he made it all the way to the tip of the wing. Scooting across the tabletop, he moved closer to Phil’s back and started working on the other limb.

After a bit more talking, Phil seemed to drag his focus away from the work on the interior of his wings and would occasionally comment or ask questions about Techno’s journey. It was a nice reversal of how their conversations normally worked. 

Normally Phil led the discussion and Techno followed. Now, it was the other way around. 

Techno ran his hand along the primaries of the wing, watching them refract and shimmer purple in the candle light. The feathers were all fixed now, with a decent pile of discarded ones sitting around him. Still he kept running his hands over and through the feathers. If Phil was uncomfortable with it, he would have stopped the cursed man. Techno was now just petting him more than anything. 

He pulled his hands out of the plumes and Phil slid forward, off the table and onto his feet. The winged god took a few steps away from the table, before turning back around to face Techno. He stretched his wings to their full wing span. Then, they refolded his back, the primaries just barely avoiding dragging on the ground. 

“Thanks for the help, Techno.” Phil turned towards the kitchen. “Let’s make at least a little food before bed.” 

Techno sat on the table for a moment, before realizing that Phil had asked for him to follow into the kitchen. The cursed man shook his head and slid off the surface. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this tired. Actually he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been tired at all.

Phil’s voice dragged Techno out of his stupor. “You coming?” The winged man had stuck his head back out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I’m comin’.” He was zoning out really badly, but made his way into the back room of the inn. Phil was moving around slices of potato in a skillet of hot oil. It smelled really good, and it was the first time that Techno had actually seen Phil cook something. The deity normally just magicked food into existence. 

From a cutting board on the counter, Phil added some onion, and minced turnip to the pan. Then, he threw in some herbs and waited for them to cook. Techno leaned against the warm stone of the hearth. The winged man was sitting beside him, also basking in the pleasant heat. 

He flipped the food around in the pan, before sighing, and speaking. “I’m sorry for snapping at you before. I shouldn’t have done tha-”

“No.” Techno cut him off. “You were in the right for snapping at me.” Neither of them were looking at each other. Phil was staring at the food in the cookware and Techno was focused on the grain of the floorboards. “I’m sorry for upsetting you. I should have taken your feelings and abilities into consideration while making the plan.”

“It's just-” Phil cut himself off, and sighed. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt. And I especially don’t like seeing you hurt yourself.”

Techno blinked. He didn’t know what Phil was talking about. The winged man hadn’t seen him fight, and he certainly hadn’t hurt himself. So he answered with a confused, “What?”

His friend chuckled sadly. “Even if you don’t mean to, you take solutions that will end with you getting hurt, when there's another perfectly reasonable way.”

The cursed man opened his mouth with a rebuttal on his tongue, but Phil cut him off. 

“Your way is faster, but that doesn’t mean it's better. The ends don’t justify the means, Techno.” The winged man ended the conversation there. He stood up and took the skillet off the heat of the fire. Splitting the food onto two plates, he handed one dish to Techno, along with silverware, and walked out of the kitchen. After a moment, Techno trailed after him. 

They sat at the bar and ate their meals. Neither of them spoke, and the silence and food slowly diffused the tension in the air. By the time their plates were clear, Techno was struggling to keep his head off the bartop. 

Phil smiled softly, and set the dishes away in the kitchen. 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Techno didn’t say anything. Instead he just slid off the stool and started towards his room. 

“Wait.”

The monster hunter stopped at Phil’s word.

“Can I have your cloak to wash? It's covered in deer blood.”

Techno’s eyes widened. “Oh.” He took off the fabric and handed it to his friend. 

The two exchanged nods, and the tired man continued to his room. Phil stayed standing in the main room. Once he heard Techno’s door click shut, the winged deity let the tension drain out of his shoulders. 

Turning his attention to the cloth in hand. The god let his magic flow into the cloak, clearing away the blood and reversing whatever Techno’s magic had done to it. In a moment, a pristine green cloak sat in his arms once again. He refolded it and set it on the bar counter. Techno would find it when he emerged in the morning. 

Something in Philza’s chest tugged for a moment. Recognizing the feeling, Phil let himself be pulled away. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the inn's mainroom. Wilbur was standing a few feet away, still enraptured and working on the trial ahead. 

Phil leaned over and tried to place a hand on the bartop next to him. His fingertips went right through the material. Yep, just as he’d guessed. He wasn’t actually in the inn. Wilbur had changed his way of spectating the trial. It had gone from being a small overhead projection, to have it be where he could be inside and watch them interact without affecting it. 

“How are you doing, Wil?” Phil sauntered over to his brother’s side. 

“A little bored, to be frank.”

Phil had to laugh. “You never have had the longest attention span.”

Wilbur shrugged good-naturedly. “I can only watch you two be sickeningly domestic for so long. You gonna adopt him, too?”

“If he’ll let me.” The god of solitude was quiet for a moment. “Have you been alone this whole time?”

“Nah,” Wilbur shook his head. “Tommy and Tubbo have been popping in to check up on me. I think they miss you.”

“It's only been two weeks,” Phil said with humor clear in his voice.

“They’re kids.”

“They’re 300 years old.” 

“And they’re spent the last hundred of those years latched to our sides.” Wilbur postured. “It’s odd for both of us to be gone, and they can only cause so much chaos before Dream or Bad tell them off.”

“That’s fair.”

The god of music tapped his foot for a moment, probably a rhythm that would soon feature in a famous drinking song, before speaking again. “I’ve been having Skeppy help me with the next trial, since I’m not the best at coming up with puzzles.”

“Oh, that’s going to be fun.” Phil couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face. “I’m betting there’s lots of lava.”

“If there wasn’t lava I’d be afraid that someone had replaced Skeppy.”

“So, I’m guessing you summoned me because you want me to hurry up and get Techno moving?” 

“No, actually. I think Techno’s planning on leaving on his own in the next few days. I’m wondering why you had him help you fix your wings.” Wilbur turned his attention away from the floating shapes of light and turned to look at Phil. “You walked for like half an hour to get back to the town. Why didn’t you let yourself heal?”

Phil ruffled his wings, feeling slightly put on the spot. “I wanted to get him to realize that his action can affect the people around him.”

The god of music hummed, seemingly accepting that answer. 

Wil turned back to his projections. Teasing smile clear in his voice, he said, “I think you just wanted someone to play with your wings.”

“Okay, you have got me there.”

Wilbur whirled around on this brother, victory shining in his eyes. “I knew!”

“Hey, now!” Phil laughed as he held his hands out in defeat. “I think he enjoyed it, too.”

The god of music laughed as well, the sound like liquid honey. “If you say so.”

The two stood in compassionate silence. Wilbur broke it by saying. “You ready to go back down?”

Phil nodded. “You were the one who brought me here in the first place.”

“Oh, shut up.” Wilbur punched him in the shoulder. 

The winged god chuckled, and jokingly rubbed the spot. “Hug before I go?” He opened his arms wide.

Wil didn’t say anything. He just threw himself into his brother’s embrace, letting the older wrap him in his wings. After a few moments, the god of trials released the breath he was holding, and mentally nudged his brother through the planes of the domain, and back into the actual inn. 

Phil let himself be moved. One moment, he was hugging Wilbur, and the next he was standing alone in the inn. The god sighed deeply before starting towards his room. Wilbur had always been better at reading people, so he was interested in what he’d meant by Techno planning on leaving in the next few days.

Only the future would tell.

Chapter Text

Techno and Phil worked together over the next few days to clean and preserve all of the venison. Phil seemed to have more experience with this, so Techno followed his lead. Techno was cutting the remaining meat from the bones and while Phil started a fire in their impromptu smoking pit. The skin has all been removed in the days prior. 

Between just the two of them, a fair amount of the meat would go to waste, so they had to work quickly to preserve it. Inside, the hearth was burning low and drying thin cut pieces into jerky.  

The temperature outside had been dropping over the days since their hunt. Phil had given Techno a winter coat from somewhere. Lined with some sort of soft animal fur, Techno barely noticed the cold. 

Techno walked over to where his companion was poking at the smoking wood chips.

“Phil.”

“Hm?” The winged god looked up at him. 

Techno fisted his hands in the pockets of the coat to keep himself from fidgeting. “I’m leaving tomorrow.” 

Phil’s eyes widened in mild surprise. “Oh, alright then.” He didn’t sound upset. “We’ll finish this today then, and we can make you a good meal tonight before you hit the road.” 

Techno nodded and walked away without another word. The anxious energy under his skin didn’t settle Phil’s acknowledgement. The feeling of being tethering to something was insurmountably foreign. He couldn't wait to get away from Phil, but at the same time, he would miss the man deeply. It had been millenia since Techno had let himself get this close to someone. 

Better to drain the wound now than let it sit and fester.

But that would be an issue for tomorrow Techno. 

He got to work harvesting the garden they’d planted a few days ago, washing the dirt off the produce in the stone-bottomed brook. Once the meat was settled to preserve both inside and out of the inn, Phil disappeared to somewhere. Techno assumed he’d be back before long. 

So he did that hard work first, using a shovel Phil had provided to dig up the root vegetables out of the cold ground. He also gathered other fruits and vegetables from the trellises. Once that was done, he picked them up and set them on one of the tables inside the inn.

And then he didn’t know what to do. 

Techno had never had free time. He was always preoccupied with keeping on the move or hunting down the next monster he’d taken a bounty on. Even here, Phil normally had a task for him to do. Whenever all the chores for the day were over, it was already night time. Not knowing what else to do, Techno started running laps around the inn, falling into the steady rhythm of the motions. 

After a few laps he expanded his loop to include the other buildings surrounding the central well. And then to just running around all of the structures in the village. Never once did he see another person or even any lights on. Just perfectly tended gardens, even in the almost freezing weather.  

Eventually, the monster hunter slowed down and approached one of the still houses. He knocked on the back door. No response. He tried the handle, and Techno was a little surprised when it opened with no resistance. 

Inside sat a picturesque little home. Well made cupboards and countertops were spotless. An unlit tallow candle sat in the middle of a table. Techno took a closer look, and saw that the wick was pristine. It had never been lit. The table surface was unmarred, not showing any signs of being used as a board for cutting food or even any marks of a child playing with their first dagger.

Techno left, and checked the next house. And the next. And the next.

Every house was empty. Each one had a slightly different layout, but it was always unmarked countertops and empty cupboards. He doubted that these houses had ever been lived in. They were just part of the setting of the fictional town Phil had created. 

He stopped checking the houses and went back to running circles around the empty village, leaving him along with his thoughts. 

Phil didn’t seem malicious. Over the two weeks he’d known the deity, he’d never shown any ill intent. The outburst during the hunt was the first time he’d heard Phil even raise his voice. The god wasn’t gaining anything from spending time with Techno, but he also wasn’t trying to get anything out of the interaction. The cursed man couldn’t figure out what the god’s game was. 

He was pulled out of his own head by the sound of Phil yelling his name. Cutting through the dirt paths, Techno made a bee-line towards the inn. Phil was standing outside the building, hands cupped around his mouth trying to project his voice. His wings were fluffed up and slightly spread slightly, like he was anxious and ready to take off at a moment’s notice. His voice was laced with worry. 

Once he saw the monster hunter approaching, his wings laid flat and folded nearly behind his back. The line of tension eased out of his shoulders and the slightly frantic expression eased from his face. 

“There you are.” 

The ‘where’d you go?’ was left unspoken. 

Techno nodded, and put his hands in the pockets of his new coat. “You left and I got bored, so I went on a run.” Techno one hand out and made a circular motion in the air, gesturing at the town around them. “Just around the outside of the village.”

Phil nodded, “Alright, I was worried that you had left.”

Techno shrugged. “I don’t know if I can leave, Wilbur may be keeping me here.”

The winged man stiffened slightly at the wandering implication of Techno’s words. He tried to brush it off, and replied, “I don’t think so, I’m fairly certain you can leave whenever you want.”

So he could leave right now if he wanted to. Phil would protest, but he wouldn’t be able to stop the monster hunter. Techno filed that away for later. Then he walked past Phil and turned the handle of the inn door. Holding the entrance open, he looked back at his friend, and asked, “You coming?”

When Phil didn’t spring into action, he added, “I don’t know how to cook, so I hope you do.”

With that, Techno turned away from Phil and walked farther into the building, leaving the door open behind him. A smile stumbled onto the god’s face. He walked inside and closed the door behind him, accepting Techno’s unspoken ask for help.

In the monster hunter’s humble opinion, Phil was a pretty good cook. The finished jerky and smoked meat was stored in cloth bags that Phil had pulled from somewhere, and the rest of the deer was slowly being cooked over the lower fire. Techno had been eating well for the last few weeks and he couldn’t wait to dig in when it was ready. 

The cursed man had been put in charge with the rest of the meal preparation (with Phil helping if he needed it). Several spuds were slowly cooking in a pan off to the side of the stone hearth along with several herbs Phil had thrown in. 

A few other additions that wouldn’t take as long to cook rested on the countertop. Some apples and nuts to be roasted, and mixed vegetables that could be cooked in oil. A loaf of bread was rising on the other side of the warm kitchen. 

It was more food than Techno had seen in a long time, and definitely more than he and Phil could eat before it goes bad. 

“What are we going to do with all this?” The man motioned to consumables strewn about the room. 

“Hm?” Phil looked up from the book he was reading. He tilted his head to the side, asking for Techno to elaborate. 

“There’s no way we can eat this all before it goes bad.”

 The winged man nodded, and closed his book so he could fully focus on his companion, keeping one finger in the page he was on. “I invited some friends to help finish off the food. That’s where I was earlier” Techno opened his mouth to say something, but Phil kept talking. “They’re coming over later tonight, after you’d normally be asleep, so you don’t have to interact with them if you don’t want to.”

Techno nodded. He didn’t quite know how to feel about Phil picking up on his social anxiety that easily, but the gesture was kind enough. 

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. It was the first day since Techno had arrived that he wasn’t doing anything from dawn to dusk. It didn’t seem like Phil was speeding up the day too much. Techno could actually track the motion of the sun via the sparse rays coming through the canopy and windows. It was nice. 

He’d been reading a book the winged god had given him out in the main room. The god in question had pulled him back into the kitchen with the setting of the sun. Together, they finished preparing the rest of the food and assembled a feast in the main room of the inn.

All of the food he’d eaten over the past few weeks had been amazing. This was the best so far. He didn’t manage to eat much, appetite soured by the fact that he’d promised himself he would leave tomorrow. 

About the time he started to slow down, Phil glanced towards the door of the inn, and announced, “Our guests will probably be here soon. They’re kinda loud, so you can go to your room if you want. I’ll make sure they leave you alone.”

Techno nodded and slid off of the stool, taking it as Phil’s polite way of telling him to scram. He took the book Phil’d given with him, though. And true to his friend’s word, around ten minutes later, several voices entered the inn. Through the walls, Techno couldn’t parse them well enough to tell how many people there were. At least six, mostly likely more. One of them sounded like Wilbur.

Yeah, Techno wasn’t going back out there. Accepting his fate for the night, the monster hunter stripped off his outer layer of clothes and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and let sleep easily take him.

Half an hour later, he threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the mattress. He couldn’t sleep and Techno had no idea why. The people in the inn weren’t being too loud. He could barely hear them despite the thin walls of the inn. Phil’s laughter made it into his room occasionally, and Techno felt something in his gut curl every time he heard it.  He wasn’t looking forward to having to leave in the morning. 

A thought lanced through the monster hunter’s head. He didn’t have to leave in the morning. There was a window in his room. Techno could leave right now, without having to face Phil. Before he knew it, his heavy coat was back on, and his window was open. 

The cold wind stole the man’s breath, making Techno take pause. But only for a moment. 

He hefted himself up and out of the window sill. He didn’t want to look Phil in the eyes before leaving, so clearly the solution was to avoid Phil altogether. 

Frozen grass crunched under his boots. Techno hadn’t noticed that it was snowing, but a thin layer of white coated the ground. Blades of grass and leaves were poking up through the powder. 

He walked around the exterior of the building until he was standing in front of the inn. Through the windows, Techno could see about a dozen people socializing. The inn looked alive for the very first time. 

Turning on his heel, Techno marched away from the illuminated structure. He'd seen a road leading out of town while running earlier. That's probably the road he's supposed was supposed to go. The monster hunter took a few steps past the wall in the direction of the road out of town. Then he reversed his path and went down the dirt path that had first brought him into town. 

It was well into the night when he arrived back at the statue that had first greeted him. Techno's eyes pick up the details of the sculpture with no problems, even in the low light. There was no mistaking it. The facial features of the statue may be missing, but it still was the exact height and build as the man he'd been living with for the last three weeks. 

Techno ran his hand over the bottom of the statue, clearing the snow and knowing that a plaque was hidden underneath. He pulled his hand away, and felt something stutter in his chest. 

The words were different.

PHILZA, GOD OF SURVIVAL AND SOLITUDE
PATRON OF THE ENDANGERED AND LONESOME
PROTECTOR OF HIS FAMILY AND THE ONES HE LOVES

Something sad curled in his chest at the confirmation that Phil was really a god. It almost felt like a betrayal, enough though he knew it was coming.

Techno lowered himself onto the snowy ground. He closed his eyes. His fingers dug into his pants as the snow melted and the cold water bit into his legs. Eventually the chill made its way through his heavy coat.

Techno only opened his eyes when he could see light through the closed lids. Sunlight danced across the icy ground, shooting daggers into the cursed man’s eyes. He stumbled to his feet, shaking the gathered snow from his hood and shoulders. A good few inches, too.

The statue and it's broken pieces were also dusted with snow. No more grass was poking up through drifts. Techno turned around to look at the trail that had brought him here. The footpath was buried under the snow. For a moment, he didn’t know how he was going to find his way back to the village. 

Something moved into Techno’s line of sight, and it took him a moment to register what it was. The white wolf blended into the powder almost perfectly. It blinked at Techno, then turned and trotted away. The cursed man followed.

The canine kept a steady pace in front of Techno. Occasionally, its fur camouflages it perfectly, and it would disappear from Techno’s sight. He was, eventually, less following the wolf, and more following the footprints it left behind.

After a while, the wolf stopped and sat down, pointing its nose at something. Techno shook his head and let his eyes refocus. The wolf glanced at him. When Techno met its eyes, it turned its attention back to the building in front of them. 

A sign over the door, proudly read The Core Inn . Unlike every other time Techno had seen the building, not a single light was on inside. He turned away to look at the other buildings. Besides Techno and the wolf’s foot prints, the snow cover was pristine. Taking a moment to realign his internal compass, he headed towards the road that led out of town. 

Three steps into the journey, a weight pressed against his side. Techno stumbled at the pressure, but caught himself, realizing that the wolf that had been leading him, was now walking alongside him. Hesitantly, he set his hand on the animal’s head.

The wolf pushed against Techno’s hand, and pressed harder into the man’s side. Techno took that as permission and shoved his hand through the wolf’s fur and into the warm undercoat. He may be impervious to frostbite, but cold was still cold. 

He started walking again, carding his hand through the canine’s fur. It was nice to have something else grounding him in the blank surroundings. In the real world, Techno would normally have bird song or even just the wind in the trees to fill his ears. Over the weeks, Phil had become the background noise, either with his voice or the motion of his clothes.

The snow crunched softly under foot as they traveled. The massive trees thinned from towering conifers to rolling woods of deciduous. What immediately caught Techno’s attention was that the wind was back. Birds and animal tracks were numerous, criss-crossing the snowy landscape. When they stumbled upon a crossroads, Techno took note of the messy wagon tracks in the resting snow. 

Compared to the premade tracks that had covered the ground in the village, these looked incredibly natural. A sign post sat across the road. Techno approached and read it, wolf still glued to his side. A place named Aria was to the left, and Mount Lacerta was to the right. It didn’t mention the path he’d arrived from. 

Techno turned around. His footsteps and any indication that he’d followed a premade path to his current location was gone. He turned back around, and the sign post had vanished as well. 

“Huh,” Techno said. He turned to look at his furry companion. “Where do you think we should go?” 

The wolf blinked, and started walking towards the left. Techno followed. After a few steps, the canine stopped and looked back at the man. He stopped as well, waiting for the wolf to continue leading. The animal looked back at Techno and whined.

When Techno didn’t move, the wolf turned around. It walked until it was once again glued to his side. Pushing against the monster hunter’s leg, the canine took a step. It looked up at Techno, and took another step forward. 

Techno got the message. They walked alongside each other for hours, basking in the cold beauty. 

Eventually, the wolf’s steps stuttered for a moment. Then it took off like a shot. 

The cursed man watched it’s white coat shrink into the distance, content that it was leaving him. To Techno’s surprise, the wolf stopped about thirty feet away. The canine spun in a circle in the snow. Then it planted its rear end in the snow and let out a piercing howl. 

The cry scared birds out of the surrounding trees. The wolf lowered its head, and although it was too far away to hear the panting, Techno could see its tongue lolling out of its mouth. 

Something bubbled in his throat. He was surprised when a barking laugh escaped. His chest felt warm despite the cold. Another laugh emitted from Techno as he sprinted after the animal. The wolf let out another howl, turned, and ran from the man, egging him to chase. 

Techno did so willingly. He almost couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this elated. Snow clung to his feet, but the monster hunter didn’t notice. Instead, he looked up to the cloud coated sky and let loose his own howl. The wolf up ahead returned the call.

Back and forth, the two echoed as they ran. Sometimes it was a whoop or holler from Techno, and a bark or yip from the canine. As they ran, the energy they carried only grew, until they were both high on euphoria.

Before he knew it, the snow was gone from around Techno’s feet. The wolf led him down the hard packed dirt road for hours at a sprint. It was nearly sun down when the animal broke from the path. It veered into the trees to the left of the road. Techno followed with zero hesitation. 

A small campsite was set up just out of sight of the road. Techno came to a halt by the edge. It was a tent with a small circle of stones set up next to it. The wolf was looking around, tapping its feet and whining slightly. 

A stick snapped in the trees. Both Techno and the wolf’s heads snapped towards the sound. In an instant, the canine had dove through the bush between them and the source of the noise. 

The cursed man heard the sound of someone yelling in surprise and being knocked to the ground. Techno pushed through the brush to follow. He found the wolf practically laying on top of someone, licking at his face. His green and white bucket hat had been knocked to the floor and large black wings moved in the dirt and plant cover as Philza tried to shove the canine off his chest.

The god managed to roll onto his side, pushing the animal off him. Sitting upright, he ran his hands through its thick coat, cooing and praising it. 

“Gods, you’re such a good boy.” Philza said through laughter. “Thank you for leading him here.”

The wolf licked his face one more time before settling its head on the god’s lap.

Turning his attention to Techno, Philza smiled, and explained, “I sent him to come get you.” He ran his head between the ears on the wolf. “It’s hard to navigate in the snow, and I didn’t want you to get lost.” 

He chucked. “I know you’d be okay, but it was just for my own peace of mind.”

Techno swallowed dryly. He couldn’t think of anything, so he just nodded. 

Philza stood up, pushing the animal off his lap, and brushed off the front of his robe. He was covered in bits of dead leaves and small sticks were on the ground around him. The god leaned over, picked back up the pieces of tinder he’d dropped. 

With his arms full of dry material, the winged deity turned to Techno. He jerked his head towards the campsite, motioning for the cursed man to come with him. They maneuvered back through the hedge. The wolf seemed elated, dancing around their legs and nearly tripping them several times. Philza chuckled at its antics. He set his gatherings down beside the unlit fire pit. 

The god lowered himself onto the hard ground with a sigh, wings half unfurled behind him to keep the feathers from bending on the ground. Techno hesitated for a second, and then sat beside him. The wolf did its best to lay on top of both of them, head in Philza’s lap and back end on Techno. Its white tail was slowly turning brown from thumping against the ground.

Philza laughed again. “Get off me you big lug.” He pushed the animal off his lap again. “Go cuddle Techno, I need to start the fire.”

The wolf whined, but sulked over and dropped its head into Techno’s lap. Despite its grumpy demeanor, its tail was still thumping against the dirt.

The god gave the canine a fond look. He pulled a flint and steel out of his robe, and started on the process of lighting a flame. 

Techno knew how to start a fire with flint and steel, but he hadn’t done it in decades. Normally he just ate food cold or didn’t eat at all. 

The entire scene was almost too domestic for Techno. Something curled in his gut as the sparks illuminated Philza’s hands and face. The sun had dipped below the tree line and the golden light made Techno yearn for the slow and warm days in the inn. 

He ran his fingers through the wolf’s fur in order to do something with his hands. After a few dozen attempts, a small flame started in the god’s cupped hands. Slowly, he added pieces of tinder until it was strong enough to survive on its own. He put a few bigger pieces of wood on top of the fire for it to destroy when it grew big enough. 

Philza turned his attention back to Techno. “Do you want something to eat? You didn’t take any when you left.”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but Techno still felt like he was being scolded for something. He nodded, saying, “Sure, I can eat.”

The god nodded. Leaning over, Philza stuck his head inside of the tent. A second later, he emerged with a bag in hand. He rooted around inside for a moment. He pulled out the cloth bag that they’d put the smoked meat inside of yesterday. 

He handed it to Techno, saying, “here.” The cursed man extracted a hand from where it had been scratching the wolf’s ear to grab the sack. The canine lifted its head to sniff at the bag. Techno thought it was going to try and take it, but it lowered its head back onto his lap without protest.

Philza pulled one more thing out of the bag before setting it aside. He unwrapped the remaining pieces of the bread loaf they’d made two days ago. The god must have hid it from his guests, otherwise it would be gone by now. He set the clothes it had been wrapped in over the bag, and tore two pieces off the loaf. Philza wrapped the rest of the bread back up and set it in bag.

Techno followed the deity’s example. He pulled a few pieces of jerky out of the bag, and handed them to his companion. The cursed man offered a bit to the wolf. It sniffed the meat for a moment, but laid its head back against the man’s chest. Techno shrugged, but closed the sack up and handed it to Philza, exchanging it for one of the pieces of bread. 

They warmed their meals against the steadily growing fire. By the time they were finished eating, the sun had fully set. The wolf was dozing in Techno’s lap, and he was half convinced to join it. He was emotionally drained from the excitement of running, and from his running anxieties about Philza being upset that he’d left in the middle of the night. The god had hardly mentioned Techno’s flight at all, only expressing seemingly mild disappointment that Techno hadn’t taken food with him. 

Techno shook his head, seemingly shaking his brain back into working order. He cautiously worked his way out from under the predator on his lap and stood up. Philza’s eyes followed him.

“I think I’m gonna go now. I’ve wasted enough time.”

Techno started towards the road, mentally promising that he wouldn’t stop walking, no matter what Philza said to stop him.

“You could stay here tonight.”

The monster hunter paused his stride. He could hear the deity standing up behind him.

“The tent is big enough for two people.”

Techno took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 

“Alright. Tonight only,” he lied to himself. “Then I need to keep moving.”

“Alright,” the deity echoed. Techno could imagine the deity nodding at his back.

That's how he found himself, pressed up against the back of a sleeping deity half an hour later. He could feel Philza slowly moving against his spine with every breath. The god was laying on top of one on his wings in a position that couldn’t have been comfortable, but the deity sure sounded fast asleep. 

Techno was curled up inside of a bedroll. Philza just had a blanket since his wings wouldn’t fit in a bedroll. The wolf was lying half on Techno’s legs, half under Philza’s wing. The weight of the canine and the subtle noises from the both the wolf and god soon lulled Techno to sleep.

Chapter Text

When Techno woke up, Philza was gone and the wolf was fully laying on his chest. Its steady breaths were blowing his bangs around. The air was warm but lacked any significant scent that Techno expected from the animal.

As his brain warmed up, Techno mentally ran back through the doggy day prior.

He’d spent the better part of yesterday and this morning with his hands buried in the wolf’s coat, but they never smelled like canine.

Slowly, the cursed man scratched the wolf behind the ears. The canine’s eyes blinked open. It half heartedly licked his face. Techno cringed, and rolled onto his side, forcing the wolf off its perch on his chest.

He sat up and brushed the white fur off his clothes the best he could. The monster hunter scooted his way to the exit of the triangle tent. By the door flap, he pulled his shoes back on. Philza had made him take the boots off before they went to sleep, citing that he didn’t want mud tracked in his tent.

The deity in question was standing in the clearing the camp was set up in. Philza was stretching in the morning sunlight, wings spread wide. The wolf plodded out of the tent. Its white fur practically glowed as it strolled to the god’s side. All of the dust that had been in its white coat had disappeared overnight.

The canine nudged Philza’s side with its nose. He looked down. Techno saw him smile, and then run his hands between the wolf’s ears. The god turned to look at Techno.

“‘Mornin’, Techno.”

Techno nodded at him, replying, “Mornin’.”

Philza’s wings were fluffed up, and he looked content as could be. “What do you want to do?”

Techno shrugged. “You’re normally the one in charge.”

“Yeah but this is your trial, so you have to make the decisions.” Philza motioned with a spread arm to their surroundings. “I’m just here to guide you.”

‘Guiding’ wasn’t really what Techno would use to describe their past few weeks, but he wasn’t going to complain about them either.

“Alright. I guess we should break camp then.” He glanced at the deity for confirmation.

Philza looked like he wanted to say something, but swallowed back his words, instead saying, “Sounds good to me.”

Techno parroted the nod back at him. The monster hunter broke down and packed up the tent in silence while Philza cleaned up the area and stomped on the remains of last night's fire. Ash flew in the air, but no sparks. It must’ve burnt itself out while they slept.

Techno allowed himself to think and mentally file through the new minor revelations of last night. Philza’s attitude and actions hadn’t changed at all, though it seemed like the god had stopped trying to either hide or ignore the trial at hand. He’d acknowledged it at the very least.

Back in the village, he’d never tried to stop Techno from leaving, or encouraged him to go find whatever Wilbur wanted him to do. Philza had seemed perfectly content to just spend time with Techno. The monster hunter had no idea why, though. The god must have some kind of ulterior motive, but Techno hadn’t an inkling of what it could be.

The monster hunter pulled himself out of his thoughts and finished stashing the tent in Philza’s bag. He watched as the god rubbed his boots in the grass, wiping the white ash off. The white wolf stuck close to his heels.

The man blinked.

“We should probably feed the wolf.”

Philza chuckled. Techno lifted his gaze to look at the god’s face. He was smiling good naturedly.

“I mean, you can if you want to.” The god cocked his head to the side. “She doesn’t really need to eat but you can feed her if you want.”

Techno furrowed his brow, not understanding what he meant by that.

The god laughed again, carrying a joyful note in its chime. “She’s not a real wolf. She’s a construct summoned by me.”

When Techno’s confused expression only deepened, Philza kneeled down and faced the wolf. The wolf sat on its haunches alongside him.

“Watch this,” he said.

The god closed his eyes and rested his hands against the sides of the wolf’s neck. After a moment, light began to shine from where Philza’s hands made contact with the animal, illuminating the already white fur, and making it look like it was glowing from the inside out.

Techno felt the hairs on his arms stand up. Tendrils of power curled off of the god and animal, snaking down Philza’s arms and through the grass. Techno took a step back as one of the vines approached him. His foot struck something, and he fell backwards. Now on the ground, Techno watched as the vine climbed up boot. The tendril split, wrapping around his foot and making its way up his leg.

Techno’s eyes were drawn away from the vining thing on his leg and up towards where it originated. The tendrils coated the ground around Philza and the wolf entirely. Something pulsed through the vines, slow and steady and Techno could feel the ground beneath him breath with each wave.

As he watched, the breaks between the pulses grew shorter and shorter until all there was, was light. Something in the air snapped. The light rushed from the veins on the ground and into the god. Techno’s vision went white.

Pure and raw power encased the cursed man, paralysing and pinning him in place.

A moment later, the light receded and he felt the magic loosen from where it was wrapped around his joints and mind. It felt like he’d been filled with lightning and someone was siphoning it back out of his veins.

Distantly, Techno watched as Philza opened his eyes and drew back his hands. The god’s eyes glowed white, before fading back to their regular blue. The same happened with the wolf. Or what had been the wolf.

The fading light revealed that a weasel was now sitting on its haunches in front of the god. The brown animal chittered at them for a second, before launching itself off the ground and grabbing Philza’s sleeve. The god laughed as the stoat clambered up the fabric and material encircling him. The wolf-turned-weasel settled down on Philza’s shoulders, laying across the back of his neck like a living fur boa.

Philza reached up and scratched the animal under the chin.

“I can change her shape and form, or unsummon her if I want to.”

Techno nodded, dumbstruck. He swallowed and pushed himself onto his elbows. Before he could stop himself, he gestured towards the vine still wrapped around his leg and asked, “Do you always need to do the light show, oooorrrrrr. . . ?”

The god blinked for a second, seemingly taken aback by the question. Techno felt himself tense, afraid that he’d said something detrimentally wrong. Then, Philza barked a laugh and the cursed man felt himself relax.

The god wiped tears from his eyes, and through a steady stream of giggles, answered, “No, I really don’t. I just wanted to make a good first impression, I guess.”

“So you wanted to show off for me?” He mimicked Philza’s accent and in a mocking tone said, “Bit cocky, innit?”

Techno wanted to slap himself. Ribbing an all powerful deity was really something he shouldn’t be doing, but the words were already out in the air before he could even think.

His comment only made Philza start into another storm of laughter. The god rolled onto his back, clutching his sides and cackling harder than Techno had ever thought possible. His wings were batting against the ground, spread out to keep them from being smashed underneath him. Amid the motion, the weasel hopped off of his shoulders. It scurried towards and up Techno’s torso. It stopped on the man’s shoulders, this time staying upright to watch its summoner’s laugh attack instead of going boneless like it had on Philza.

After a few minutes, the deity seemed to get himself under control. His laughing slowed, but his shoulders still shook with smothered giggles. He sat up and shook his wings out, shedding a bit of dirt that had accumulated between his feathers.

Techno looked at the god, whose clothes and wings were now coated in dirt and grass stains.

“Are you alright?”

Philza coughed out another laugh, and his words were still interspersed with chuckles. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“What were you expecting me to say?”

“Honestly, I have no clue.”

Techno watched as the vines began to recede. They almost seem to grow in reverse as they disappear back towards the god.

Techno grunted and pushed himself up off the ground, taking care not to disturb his passenger. “Just not that?” He walked to Philza and offered him a hand up.

The god laughed and took Techno’s hand. “Not at all.”

The deity stood up and brushed some dirt off his pants and robe. He gave his wings a few more flaps as well. A bit more dust and plant matter dislodged itself, but the god still cringed slightly as he folded the limbs behind his back.

Philza rolled his shoulders and extended a hand towards the weasel on Techno’s shoulders. The ermine barked at Philza, and even nipped at the fingers in front of it.

The god drew his hand back and chuckled. “Alright, alright, I hear you.” He offered his hand again, and the animal hopped off of Techno and onto its summoner. Philza crouched down, letting the weasel gently drop onto the grass below. The deity stood back up to his full height.

Philza raised his hand and snapped. His eyes shown white for a moment, and the weasel at his feet transformed back into a wolf. Techno felt the same magic pulse beneath his feet, but nothing else happened.

The wolf turned in a circle, investigating its new form. It’s once white fur had been replaced with a tawny brown coat. The animal let out a low “boof” and walked over to Techno, leaning heavily against his side and firmly looking at anything except Philza.

Techno reached down and scratched between the canine’s ears.

“Does she like being a wolf?”

Philza nodded. “It’s her favorite form. She whines anytime she’s something else.” He looked at the canine with a knowing smile. The animal kept its gaze locked on a tree to god’s left, but her traitorous tail was wagging.

The deity chuckled. Walking to where Techno had left the bag in the shade, he picked it up. The grass where the tent had sat was smashed down. Philza looked at the backpack for a second, and put it on backwards so that it was resting on his chest.

Techno shook his head. “Nope. Gimme that.”

The god looked at him for a second. He then slid the bag back off his shoulders and gave it to his companion. Techno put the backpack correctly on and turned back to Philza who had a wide grin on his face.

Techno frowned, confused. “It’s more comfortable this way,”

The god chuckled. Techno was finally realizing that he did that a lot.

“If you insist, Technoblade.”

Techno shook his head. “Just Techno works.”

Philza paused, eyes going slightly wide before softening.

He nodded. “Alright.”

Techno was quiet for a moment, before asking, “Do you prefer Philza or Phil?”

The deity considered it for a moment. “Either or,” he shrugged, “whichever you like most.”

Techno mirrored Phil’s previous nod back at him. “Alright.”

The monster hunter gave the empty camp one last look before turning to face the road. He took one step into the brush hiding the camp from the path, before glancing back at his companion.

The god was right behind him, wolf at his heels. Phil motioned for him to move forward. So Techno did, listening as the other two followed through the foliage. Once they were on the dirt path, Phil moved to walk beside him. The wolf periodically switched between trotting on either side of them or inbetween where they walked.

Traveling with others was a foreign feeling. Foreign, but not bad.

---

Phil seemed like a very nice traveling partner. Even with his previous show of magic, the monster hunter had never felt animosity or aggression directed towards himself. The unfiltered power (as showy as it was) was only wreathed in good intentions. Bear in mind, Techno’s main interactions with magicians over the last millenia mostly consisted of the local ruler hiring them in an attempt to kill him. He was very well acquainted with hostile magics.

Prior to that, he had traveled, but then settled around and spent a significant amount of time around people for a few thousand years. Phil wasn’t really human, but the monster hunter only had so much to go off of and when he had once spent a decent amount of time around mortals, they were always doing something. After spending generations in a single place, the townsfolk would learn Techno’s habits and how to understand his extra-average tendencies. For all the weight those people left on his soul, he was still never sure if they dealt with him because they liked him, or because they enjoyed the protection he afforded the village.

After centuries of people knowing all of Techno’s odd ticks and then millenia of no one knowing who he was, it was weird being around someone who was actively trying to get to know him. Phil didn’t ask questions or try to pry into Techno’s past, but he matched the cursed man’s pace. So Techno did his best to match him as well.

Back at the tavern, Phil had picked up on a few things Techno did. Techno liked having something to fidget with, so Phil would leave a stick on the bar or table top, and not mention it when a few hours later it would be reduced to a pile of bark and wood shavings.

He also picked up a few things from Techno. The monster hunter wasn’t sure if it was on purpose, or if the god was doing it unconsciously. Techno would mimic Phil and then Phil would parrot him back. This usually ended in a loop of them nodding at each other or saying “alright” repeatedly, but the normality of the interaction always left something warm curled in Techno’s chest.

When Phil offered a bit of his past, Techno would bare a little bit of his. A game of give and take as Techno acclimated to being around him.

Currently, Phil was cursing out the sky as a storm thundered overhead. He was huddled under a willow tree, hiding from the wind and rain. Techno stood beside him.

“I don’t get how you can travel like this.”

The deity was using the break in their travels to rearrange his ruffled feathers. The wolf was pacing by circles around their feet. She didn’t seem too bothered by the lightning or rain, but she did jump at every clap of thunder.

Techno shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. Besides,” he glanced at the god, “can’t you make it stop raining?”

Phil shook his head. “Not here. If we were back at the village I could, but we left my domain when we set foot on this road. I’m still a god, but there’s only so much I can do while in another god’s domain.”

“That makes sense.” It didn’t make sense at all. Techno had no idea what that meant.

Luckily, Phil seemed to pick up on the cursed man’s confusion. “I’ll explain it better later.”

Techno looked up and cringed as a droplet hit him in the face.

“We really shouldn’t be standing here.”

“Why not?” The god asked. “It’s pretty dry.”

“Yeah,” Techno agreed, “it’s also a pretty good way to get struck by lightning. Speaking from experience, not fun.”

Phil gave him an odd look. The god froze and his eyes went wide as both him and Techno felt something charge the air around them. Techno caught the scent of something acrid. His hair stood on end and he could barely register the massive BOOM and shrapnel flying over the white hot pain coursing through his body.

A scream tore from Techno’s throat. He fell to his hands and knees, panting and crying. He gasped for breath as pain filled his form and tears fell from his eyes. He was no stranger to agony, but being cooked alive from the inside out was something he doubted would get used to.

A minute later, Techno wiped the saliva from his mouth and leaned back to sit on his haunches. For once, he was thankful for the rain dripping on his head. It was a sensation that differed from the painful tingling of his rapidly healing nerves and the seizing in his chest. He opened his eyes and looked around.

The willow that they had taken shelter under was obliterated. Long strips of bark decorated the wet ground. A cracked stump sat where the tree once stood and the parts of the tree that remained intact had fallen opposite of where Techno had collapsed. He could feel splinters and shrapnel digging into his skin and face, but his attention was pulled away from the destruction.

Techno fought his uncooperative limbs and struggled to Phil’s side. The god was slumped over on the ground, wolf collapsed beside him. As his senses healed and returned to him, Techno was met with the smell of burning. Burning wood, burning cloth, burning dirt, burning flesh. The scents were coming from him and his companions.

He watched as Phil’s wings spasmed beside the god. Phil was partially lying on his side as smoke curled off the black feathers. Their usual sheen was obscured by soot and vaporised tree ash and flung soil. The cursed man watched as the god clutched at his chest, shuddering for breath, deity laid low by nature itself. His eyes were locked on something far, far away.

Carefully, Techno laced his hand with Phil’s. He couldn’t feel his blackened fingertips, but Phil wasn’t reacting to this well and Techno didn’t know what else to do.

With his free hand, Techno took Phil’s other one and held it to his chest. He took long and slow breaths, despite his heart’s painful pangs in his chest. Slowly, Phil copied him. The fog in his eyes lessened, and he glanced around at the ruined setting. His hat was missing. Techno didn’t know if it had been destroyed in the strike or if the wind had carried it off once the willow had fallen.

“Are you alright?” Techno asked. His voice was rough and even the simple sentence hurt. As he watched, Phil’s eyes grew wet and his barren expression s. Techno wasn’t sure what to expect next, but it wasn’t the god pulling Techno into a hug, pressing his face into the ruined fabric of his shoulder, and screaming so loud that Techno’s ears felt like bursting.

As the rain and wind diluted the smell of smoke, the monster hunter caught another scent, metallic and heavy.

Something warm was running down the hand wrapped around Phil’s back. The god had been leaning against the tree and stretching his wings when the bolt had struck. Fuck.

Techno knows that healing with something in the wound would hurt like ache like no other. Even years after the injury, he could feel his side pull where shards of iron were embedded.

The cursed man shook the shoulder of his friend and was suddenly struck with how pathetic they must look. A suicidal immortal and a bleeding god soaked to the bone and stuck in the middle of the thunderstorm with an electrified wolf and more splinters than clothes on them.

“Phil, I need you to listen to me. This is gonna hurt a lot, but it's gonna hurt a lot more if I don’t do this.”

Philza whimpered but nodded into his shoulder. The god drew in a sharp breath as Techno pushed him away. Slowly, Techno staggered to his feet and moved behind the deity. His breathing was heavy, but he stayed upright when Techno stopped supporting him.

The damage to his backside was extensive. Golden ichor mixed with raindrops and pulverized bark, tearing his cloak and undershirt to pieces. Only a few bigger pieces had made it into his back. The gold blood soaked through the remains of his clothes and a few lines trickled down from his singed scalp.

He only took that in peripherally. Techno’s eyes were drawn to the mangled mockery of Phil’s wings. From the front, the feathers had been disheveled and soot stained. From the back, Techno almost couldn’t recognize the limbs. His long and gossamer primaries were shredded. Quills were broken, and blood poured from the punctures onto the ground, rivulets becoming muddy rivers as it mingled with rainwater and torn up earth.

He didn’t look divine.

The half extended wings shook and shuttered. The intact feathers were standing on end, trying to make the god look bigger and keep him warm. The motion allowed Techno to see which feathers were salvageable.

He hated how the feeling returned to his fingers, only to be immediately covered with the blood of his friend. A pile of ruined feathers gathered in Techno’s lap as he worked. He drew his weapon and was relieved when a precise dagger that sat easily in his palm met him.

Parts of the wings had begun to heal over the splinters. The cursed man knew they needed to be removed. From experience, debris healing into a wound left an ache for weeks. A horrible feeling when Techno when used to throwing himself into problems and leaving anointed in his own blood, but pain free.

Something twisted and bit at Techno’s heart as he removed the shards of wood with a delicacy he hadn’t known he possessed. It felt wrong to hurt Philza. His throat tightened and the contents of his stomach threatened to come up from the painful inhale that accompanied every careful incision.

By the time he finished, the storm overhead had passed. Techno’s clothes and appetite were ruined by the gold staining him. The god’s form still shook with each breath. There were almost certainly some pieces remaining that Techno couldn’t find, and he cringed at the thought of how uncomfortable Philza would be.

And now-

And now Techno didn’t know what to do. Phil was out cold and the last thing he wanted to do was move him. Their bag had been thrown aside by the lightning strike. It was unharmed, if damp, and smelling slightly of smoke.

The wolf had woken up while he was working in the god’s wings. Now, it was laying on Phil’s lap. His face was buried in the fur and Techno wouldn’t be surprised if it stayed like that until he woke up.

Techno stayed in front of his friend for two reasons. First, he wanted Phil to see him when the god awoke. Second, Techno never wanted to see what he’d done to Phil’s wings again.

The cursed man knew that, logically, he’d done the best thing he could have. But something in his chest recoiled every time he thought about what he’d done. He wanted to run from what he’d done. He’d hurt someone he cared about and Techno could feel self loathing wrapping around his mind like a constrictor. Letting himself get close to someone was a mistake that always ended badly.

The crying man was pulled out of his spiraling thoughts by the wolf licking his face. Techno automatically grimaced at the contact and tried to shove the animal away. Once it had his attention, the canine stopped licking. Instead, it seemed insistent on climbing into his lap. He stopped fighting and let the animal lay on him.

The weight and the warmth kept him grounded. After a few minutes, the heat from the animal soaked through his wet clothes. Clutching the fur in his ichor stained hands, Techno shoved his face into the wolf’s neck. Tears leaked from his eyes, but the wolf only leaned harder against him, even though Techno was pulling at its fur.

Another weight pressed against Techno’s side. The cursed man flinched at the contact, but after a few seconds, leaned into the secondary embrace. His gasping breaths slowed.

Techno pulled his head out of the fur and blinked the tears out of his gaze. He turned to see what else had joined him, and his eyes went wide. Phil was pressed against his side.

The monster hunter could see a path through the wet grass where the god must have dragged himself. Philza’s cheek was pressed against Techno’s shoulder. Even with the tear tracks still visible on his face, he looked peaceful in his sleep.

Techno knew that Phil’s wings would heal. He just wished he could sleep until that had happened and he never had to think about this again. The storm had truly blown itself out overhead and the sun was setting. One day on the read and Techno was already feeling the pull to run.

He shook the thought out of his head. He would at least stick around until Phil was healed. After that he would leave.

The cursed man let his eyes flutter shut. He leaned against Phil’s head until the cool breeze and crickets lulled him to sleep.