Tommy sits underneath the sunlight. The air is crisp and spindly as the cold crawls underneath the sleeves of his dark red parka. The snow falls in small, silvery flecks, frosting the desserts on the table with additional sugar. The snow sizzles and melts, falling off the sides of the teapot resting on a rolling trolley. Tommy keeps his teacup against his chest, cusping his hands over it to protect it from the chilly weather. Across the table from him, Drista lifts her gloved hands toward the snow with an awed expression, clearly someone who has never been this far north. False is far more composed. She leans back in her chair, staring idly at her teacup without drinking it. While Tommy and Drista are wearing thick clothing, False wears a sleeveless shirt and loose pants, entirely unaffected by the weather.

At the edge of the imperial gardens, Tommy's personal knight, Sir Jack, is standing next to Drista's chevalier. A chevalier is the equivalent of a knight in Essempei, and this one appeared at the teleport waypoint a few days ago, back when Tommy was bedbound. Tommy recognizes the chevalier. In The Ender Prince, Purpled was the younger brother of Dream's personal guard, Punz. Purpled betrayed his brother in order to travel with Ranboo and his friends. Tommy doesn't remember too many of his exploits, but he thinks Purpled disappeared during one of the arcs and had a dramatic comeback in a fifth arc. Drista's very existence has altered the course of fate because instead of being a mercenary, he is her chevalier.

Jack and Purpled each of their own weapons, but False's rifle is slung over Jack's shoulder. While she wasn't eager to part with it, False handed it over when it was gently explained to her that Tommy and Drista were important people. False, out-of-touch with civilization, shrugged as she placed the strap in Jack's awaiting hand. She told him she would come back for it, but she would temporarily relinquish to him if it was for Tommy and Drista's safety. Tommy thought the entire arrangement was amusing, but he made no comment of it as False and Drista joined him at the table he had some servants prepare.

Tommy's other personal attendant, his new knight Niki, went with Techno under Tommy's directions. He was heading into the capital to protect Wilbur. The Tseseravich wanted to become reacquainted with L'Manberg. He wanted to check the damages brought about by Sally's rampage. He didn't say it, but he probably wants to let people know that he's alive. Tommy feared that the people wouldn't react well to a ghost, so he asked Niki to leave. He didn't command it necessarily, but she must have seen the desperation in his eyes. She told him she would go, then she did.

A potential other guard for Tommy is also occupied at the moment. Under Tommy's orders and more of his money, Deo is staying with Shelby and the rest of the Grace family. They are temporarily staying in the capital to sort out different matters including Shelby's suspended apprenticeship and the matter of who will be the heiress between Shelby and Prismarina. Tommy doubts that the fight is particularly riveting since Shelby didn't want the position in the first place. Shelby was eager to become the Imperial Mage under Wilbur's leadership.

Around this time, Tommy would usually be in his classes. Both have been postponed indefinitely. With the upcoming harvest, Kara's lands are growing busier and require closer attention. This, unfortunately, coincided with Wilbur's reappearance, thus making the imperial palace much busier as well. Kara is doing double duty caring for her own lands and acting as a vassal to the tsar and tsaritsa.

Tommy's other teacher, Sam, is working towards forming a proper retinue for SapNap. He has been preparing SapNap's rooms, accommodating them to someone who has grown up in the far south's blistering heat and swirling sands. This has become a full-time job, especially since some of the nobles have invited SapNap to different social functions. Sam is working towards weeding out which ones are the best for the prince. SapNap, at least, has stayed in his rooms to avoid creating unnecessary chaos.

The chaos cannot be afforded at the moment. The elemental kings have been in discussion for the past few days. Sneeg called upon Hetta for assistance, and while she tries to send him feelings through their link, he knows that she won't be by his side for a little while. Tiberius, too, has decided to help the elemental kings with their business. Tommy was able to speak to him once, and the celestial explained himself with the simple words of "it's personal." Tommy didn't delve into what that could mean, instead telling Tiberius to take care of himself.

As all of these facts swirl inside Tommy's mind, he leans his head back. Not to see the snowflakes descending from the clouds like Drista, but to see the branches of his Sylva tree. It hasn't been that long since he's planted it, a year or two, but the tree is strong and healthy. It looks like a tree that has been growing for over a decade, and it also looks like a tree that is growing in a warmer climate. The leaves are a golden color, as if trapped in perpetual autumn instead of the winter that slumbers restlessly in the empire.

"Did you have a nice night, Prince Theseus?" Drista asks, her voice guiding Tommy back to the present moment. He rolls his neck, straightening his head up. Drista is sipping her tea, holding the saucer with her gloved hand. She smiles at him, warm and bright. The mask on her face hugs her features, accentuating her Fae eyes, unspooling glamour like thread from a spindle.

Tommy acknowledges her question with a hum. After leaving the meeting, Tommy found himself wandering to his parent's chambers. He heard their laughter through the door, and the sound of their tears followed soon after. Tommy leaned against the door until his father arrived. Philza scooped Tommy up, pressing him close to his heart. They entered the room together. Tommy was dragged into the bed by his mother and Wilbur. She asked him if he was healthy again, and he apologized for being sick. He was told to never be sorry for that, and Tommy agreed to her as his mother put his head on her shoulder. He felt like a child again. He leaned into the feeling instead of pulling away. She laid down with him, her hand reaching out to tangle with Philza's hand. Techno and Wilbur filed into a spot between Tommy and Philza, pushing the tsar away from his wife. They giggled about it, and they spoke in hushed whispers over Tommy's head. When they were all asleep, Tommy tried slipping away to let his wings out, but Techno caught him before he could go far. They didn't say anything, just held hands for a long moment. Techno looked down at their hands, and Tommy looked out the distant window at the swirling night sky. When the cold nipped at Tommy too hard, drawing a shiver from him, Techno brought him back to the bed. Kristin was holding Wilbur now, so Techno held Tommy. The blonde fell asleep with his mission unfinished.

"My family would not let me leave until I gave them the excuse that I was going to tea with you two. Even then, it was reluctant," Tommy decides on his words thoughtfully, wanting to keep the love his family shared with him private. He keeps it in his heart, feeling the warmth of a single night chasing away the cold of the following somber day. "I told them I was here for diplomatic reasons and to encourage False to become a part of the ministry in whatever capacity she deems acceptable."

"Is that what we're doing?" False asks, nudging her saucer. The tea inside her cup sloshes as it moves. Tommy is uncertain if False simply doesn't like the tea and doesn't know the appropriate actions to make in such a scenario, or if False is unable to drink. She mentioned that she got her energy from monster-hunting, so maybe she can't consume other sources.

Drista laughs, crystal clear and pitched like a thundering wind. "No, we're not doing that. We aren't talking as Prince Theseus, Princess Drista, or the Artificer False. We're talking as Transcendents. We're comparing notes, so to speak."

"What is there to discuss?" False asks, the drawl of her voice incorporating a flavor of boredom while her eyes shimmer with curiosity.

"Well, how about we start with the most basic question: what is a Transcendent?" Drista responds, looking between Tommy and False. She has a scholarly look on her face, one that reminds Tommy of the expressions Shelby and Tubbo would make when they were on the trail of something fascinating.

"Someone with the will to break fate?" Tommy offers. He was mentally linking those two concepts together in his mind since the day he heard the word Transcendent. That was a week or two ago, Tommy thinks, realizing how much has happened in a short amount of time.

"I don't agree. I think a Fatebreaker is someone with the will to conquer fate, which is why people call you that. A Transcendent must be something different. False, for instance, doesn't seem keen on changing fate. Even if she is, we know that Ranboo isn't. His character arc might have been about gaining agency, but he never went against the tides of fate," Drista disagrees.

"We're only assuming that Ranboo is the fourth Transcendent. There is a possibility that he isn't," Tommy counters.

"Who is Ranboo?" False asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tommy and Drista look away from each other to stare at False. The lich regards them carefully, entirely unaware of why her words caused such a reaction. Tommy and Drista look back at each other. Drista looks abashed, and Tommy winces. They were so caught up in the fact that they were all Transcendents that they never thought to ask if False was from another world like they were. Even if she was from the old world, there's no guarantee that she ever read The Ender Prince.

"Drista and I come from a different world. It's really different from this one. We didn't have magic over there in any of its forms, but we had more advanced technology," Tommy explains vaguely. He never thought he would have to verbally talk about his previous world. He has spent so long trying to distance himself from that past, only keeping his grip on The Ender Prince's valuable information. Everything else he let slip away in order to make room for what this world has to offer. Why think about his neglectful parents when Kristin and Philza love him so much? Why think about the loneliness of high school when he has so many friends here?

"In that world, an entity came to me to offer a deal. In exchange for writing my dreams about an Enderina named Ranboo down as a book, I would get my wish for a family granted. When I died in that world, I was reborn into this world as a character who didn't originally exist," Drista continues, a touch of bitterness coating her voice that reminds Tommy of himself. He looks at her in a new light. It seems they both had horrible lives in the old world.

"I was reincarnated as Theseus. He was the villain for the first arc of the book. He kept Ranboo as a servant. He did some fucked up stuff and got executed for it," Tommy adds. A smile creeps onto Drista's face, and he can see her relax in the corner of his eye. Tommy understands. False doesn't care about civilization, and as fellow Transcendents, Tommy and Drista don't care about acting out their parts, either. They can all act the way they want to without judgment.

"That's interesting... all a book, huh," False remarks cooly, looking around at their new environment with a new expression overtaking her hard-lined face. She looks back at Tommy and Drista. "How did this book end?"

"I died before I could finish it," Tommy admits shallowly. The last chapter he completely remembers happened in the Badlands arc. Ranboo had just... Tommy's face scrunches together in mild pain. He remembers now. It was when Shelby had died. Eryn was the one to kill her, but it cost him his life when Hannah killed him a second letter. Ranboo broke, watching both of them fall, and his powers went haywire like a fulmination. Tommy doesn't remember what happened after that, if he even read anything after that. A teleporter's fulmination seems like a good end for a chapter.

"I don't remember," Drista sheepishly admits, her face growing red with embarrassment. False and Tommy share a quiet look as they watch Drista fiddle with the edge of her teacup. "The last chapter I remember writing was the one where Ranboo uses Reaper's sacrifice to rid the Badlands of corruption. It was the agent that corrupted Hannah, Shelby, and Warden. Thinkinging about it, the corruption was probably the Taint. In any case, everyone was free, but... something happened. I know it did. I just can't remember it. The entity can't either. It says that its mind is completely blank between the times of that chapter I just mentioned and by rebirth into this world. It doesn't even remember what it did to get me here, to make me a corporeal vessel."

"Could it be taboo knowledge?" Tommy asks.

"And that is? Something from this book of yours?" False cuts in.

"Ah, no, not exactly. Before the rogue fire elemental sacrificed herself to hold back the Taint, she mentioned taboo knowledge, or the truth of this world," Drista explains. "I have been looking into it since we got back. The library here is expansive, but I could barely catch a sight of the phrase. I found it when I was looking through some really old court records. Apparently, scholars can be charged and punished for the pursuit of taboo knowledge. It is one of the cardinal sins of erudition. These are the laws all scholars must follow. I didn't get much more from it, though. The cases didn't clearly spell out what exactly the scholars were researching beyond the severity of their crime."

"My celestial, Tiberius, said that taboo knowledge will drive a person insane if they don't learn it or rationalize it for themselves," Tommy adds, keeping the phrase Drista said in his back pocket for the next time he talks with some of the knowledge-seekers he knows. "I'm tired of all this cryptic bullshit. I mean, why the hell would the truth of the world be sealed away by the 'heavens'?"

"Do you mean the Aether?" False asks, throwing her hand upward as if to point at the clouds moving across the tumultuous sky.

"I don't know what that is," Drista honestly replies. Tommy inclines his head toward her in agreement.

"Ah, I see. Well, there are five realms, not including the world that the two of you came from originally. We are in the Overworld right now. The Nether is where Tommy's mother came from. The End is where this Ranboo you speak of comes from, if he is an Enderian as you say. The Aether is the realm above, where the divine thrones sit. The Underworld is beneath us. Each realm is connected by the Inbetween, a secret sixth realm where the Terra Sylva grows and connects the Inbetween to all the other realms. These are what we collectively call the Lost Realms," False explains, using her hands to gesture in the air in front of her. Tommy follows her words better than her hands, but Drista is nodding with a strange intensity as she stares at the moving fingers.

"How did you come to this conclusion?" Tommy asks. He knew about all of those realms except for the Aether. He didn't know the name of the Inbetween nor its purpose, but he did objectively know about it.

"Deductive reasoning and calculations. I know for a fact that the Overworld exists. In my travels, I have found physical proof of the Nether and the End. When I first learned how to expel my soul from my body, I became conscious of the Underworld. A soul has so much power that there must be a place where it goes when it leaves the body. Scott's ghosts have confirmed this fact for me. After confirming these four realms, I ran some complex calculations using the fundamentals of the world. The only way for the realms to exist in the way that they do is if there is an additional realm above us. All my research points to people believing in a sort of divine or heavenly realm. Other names for it include Molympus and Stratos, but Aether is the most common one I've heard," False explains simply, talking at such a languid pace that one would not believe she was talking about using math and science to prove the existence of an entire realm. "To that end, do we believe that the Aether is the one withholding this knowledge?"

"That's definitely a possibility. Considering the fact that most people don't know anything about the Aether, they could have sealed any knowledge they consider taboo and the information regarding themselves," Drista thinks out loud, leaning back with her thumb raising up to rub her chin.

"What are the divine thrones?" Tommy leaves Drista to her murmur, taking False's attention onto himself.

False shrugs. "I'm not religious. None of the old scholars ever talked about the Aether. Only the priests and associated clergymen did. The Aether could just be another realm like the one we're in right now. They could have people sitting around a table, discussing how they proved the existence of the Inbetween through calculations. Maybe they used the same formulas I came up with."

"I think I've been to the Inbetween... twice. The first time was at the Argent Sylva. I met a man who wore purple and green clothing in the style of our old world, Drista. He told me that I might be able to save the world as the Fatebreaker. The other time, I saw a very powerful, ancient woman who told me that the gods weren't what they seemed. I had a fulmination right after that," Tommy changes the subject, latching onto a different thought. He tries remembering that woman. She reminded him of the man at the bottom of the ocean, the one that warned Tommy not to trust anyone. Were they both gods? Or are they something more?

"She might not be wrong. I have never witnessed the influence of a god even though the worship has only gotten more prominent with time. Either the gods these people hold in high regard are dead or they've abandoned this world," False agrees. Tommy shivers, something iron wrought and red-hot bursting in his stomach.

"How old are you?" Drista whispers, looking around like she's just asked for taboo knowledge.

"Very old, I think. I've spent a lot of time in the wilderness hunting monsters. A lot of days and nights have passed. I'm not concerned with human affairs enough for me to know the exact time. Nature keeps track of time over long stretches whereas humans are the ones that dictate every second," False looks into the distance, her face growing unfocused as she thinks about something beyond them.

Tommy stifles a snort. He's almost envious of her carefree attitude. Almost, Tommy notes, thinking about all the people he loves and that love him. Tommy sighs instead. "I don't know what to think about the gods, or anything that isn't quite a god. I don't care, either. They must not be worth much if it's up to me to save the literally goddamned world."

"Us," Drista cuts into his words, silencing Tommy with her determined stare. "It's up to us to save the world because we're Transcendents. We were given this purpose for some reason."

"You're right," Another voice agrees. False lazily glances upward with mild surprise on her face, but Tommy and Drista's heads jump straight up in the space of a heartbeat. Tommy meets the strange eyes of the fate machine. Instead of sitting on a church pew, she is sitting on one of the branches of the Sylva tree. She giggles softly, wearing a friendly smile. She falls forward. She flips in the air, landing on the ground beside the table, between False and Tommy's chairs.

"What are you doing here?" Drista asks, her face full of recognition.

"You know her?" Tommy whispers, keeping his eyes pinned on the child-like machine.

"I do. I met her at the Viridian Sylva in Essempei," Drista nods.

"I've met her, too, though I can't remember where," False inclines her head to the side, stretching her neck out as she glances skeptically at the machine.

"How exciting to know I'm so memorable!" The machine pipes up, clapping her hands together. Her grins stretch wider on her face. If Tommy didn't know what she was, he would passively consider her a cute kid. He might have even compared her to Hetta, and part of him still wants to for entirely separate reasons, but he decides against such analogies. "As Transcendents, I can't completely see your fates. You are variables, you see, which means that every action you take ripples around you and changes everything. It's like throwing a stone in a pond. The pond will eventually smooth out, but you guys just keep throwing rocks. Despite this, I can see the fates of the people around you. Transcendents naturally attract powerful and important people due to their fundamental nature. These types of people have large fates, making them really easy for me to see. It also makes their fates harder to change, but you guys are doing a great job!"

"What are you doing here?" Tommy asks, deciding if that information is important or not.

"Firstly, I wanted to tell you all that I have a name now! One of my creators gave it to me recently. The name is Sophia," The fate machine declares with a bright smile. Tommy frowns. It seems like such a simple name for a machine that can read the fate of the entire world, predicting the future with near-perfect accuracy.

Sophia's smile drops away, leaving a trace of ancient wisdom darkening her artificial eyes. "Secondly, I've come to warn you. While you are variables that can change your fates, when you are inactive, the timeline does stabilize. I felt like I should impart some advice on all three of you: unfairly acquiring taboo knowledge will not only ruin your sanity, it will make you lose what makes you a Transcendent in the first place."

"And what is that?" Drista asks, going back to the first question of their meeting.

Sophia giggles, her face brightening. "Were you not paying attention just now? I can't tell you what makes a Transcendent. I can only tell you that the answer exists in this world. When you hear the word, you will know. It will be like everything clicks into place. I can see variations of it happening in my head now."

Sophia's smile laxes. "My third reason for being here is to inform you all of the current timeline. Because of Sally's sacrifice, we have about two years before the Taint resurfaces, if nothing else goes wrong. I can, at least, guarantee that the fourth Transcendent will converge with you three very soon. I estimate a year, at most. I could be less than that. Fate is shifting slowly as you make more waves, some for the best, others for the worst."

"Have we done enough to circumvent the end of the world?" Tommy asks.

"I'm sorry, but you haven't. No matter what you do and no matter how far I look, I can only see the end of the world coming. The means of its destruction have slowly changed, and the situation does look less bleak, but we're still a long ways away from fixing it completely," Sophia stretches her hands out. "I've decided to give you a prophecy like a Pythia. This is the one of the few ways I can give you crucial information without risking your minds."

"Pythia?" Tommy asks.

"A Pythia is a type of Diviner, someone who can use divination. Deo is a type of Diviner called a visionary," Drista explains. Tommy frowns at the new terminology.

"Jimmy is a Diviner called an Oracle," False inputs.

"Sam has the potential to be a soothsayer. He was once, actually, explaining where Hannah and Boomer came from," Drista remarks, her face falling after a second. She looks slightly uncomfortable. Tommy supposes he would understand if he knew what a 'soothsayer' was. He previously thought that anyone who could see the future was a soothsayer, but he seems to have his terminology backwards. Soothsayer is only one type, and for some reason, Sam was a soothsayer at one point or another.

"You're all right! There are also different types of Diviners. You guys should try to meet all of them!" Sophia notes. She leans back, looking towards the sky. She puts one hand on her chest. The other hand rises upward. She is calling some invisible force down, waves of it making Tommy feel like electricity is in the air.

"The ultimate storm approaches like a distant wave,
The unchained four will choose between bravery and the world's grave
A monster of the past rises from the ash
The remnants of a soul leak from a mother's cache
The wolf of a timeless prison strikes against his creator
All were shaped by the actions of the perceived traitor
One must fight against the ancient lord
One must kill who they once adored
One must stitch the blight with the soul
One must help the three heroes with their goal
Ascension comes for one and for another comes death
The third will be undone and the fourth will be lost in the fire's depth."

Her voice cuts off suddenly. The energy dissipates, and Tommy swallows thickly. He suddenly feels a little out of sorts. Any part of that prophecy could be about him, but he just doesn't know which line. None of the lines seem like something he wants for himself, but he doesn't want those fates to befall the others, either.

"That will be all from me! Good luck in Rivendell!" Sophia's voice is chipper as she jumps back. Her body dissolves into multi-colored leaves, the same chromatic appearance of the Terra Sylva... the World Tree.

"What does she mean?" Drista whispers, her voice vague like she's thinking about something else more intensely than her own words.

"I am going to Rivendell tomorrow to deal with the elves encroaching on our territory as punishment for breaking imperial law," Tommy admits. "In actuality, it is my father's way of getting me out of the capital and hindering the war of succession the nobles will be engaged in."

"You should have told me sooner. I have to pack for such an excursion," Drista huffs.

"You aren't coming with me," Tommy is quick to say. Drista's eyes widen in surprise. Tommy explains further, "You need to stay here. Someone needs to keep looking into matters involving the Transcendents. Additionally, there will be a diplomatic delegation from the empire to Essempei. It would be better for everyone if you were there to help it run smoothly."

"I don't want us to split up," Drista softly admits.

"It's only temporary, Drista. We all have our jobs. Plus, Purpled is an exiled elf. They'll never let him into Alfheim," Tommy explains, gesturing towards Drista's chevalier. It's difficult to see at a distance, but Tommy knows Purpled has the pointed ears typical of elves. He also knows that beneath Purpled's sleeves and gloves, he's star-stained.

"Fine," Drista relents, looking over her shoulder at Purpled. He remains stoic and composed, befitting of someone as experienced and old as he is.

"On the other hand, I did want to ask you to come with me, False. You're well-traveled, a proficient monster-hunter, and able to answer questions. Scott would also be nice to bring along," Tommy says, turning toward False while Drista is distracted thinking about her guard's relationship with Alfheim.

"If I'm allowed to, I'll go. I've always wanted to see Alfheim. Never had an excuse before," False shrugs plainly.

"I'll get you and your group permission. I know who's in charge, after all," Tommy laughs to himself, thinking about Niki. He stands up, noticing Jack move in the corner of his eye. "I better go pack. We'll discuss more about Transcendents when I return. I hope we'll all have some solid information then."

—

"What are we even doing?" Ranboo whispers, looking around at the desolate ground. The blood burns against his wrists and fingers, cutting deep scars into his bichromatic skin.

"We're walking," Purpled responds, his voice scratchy and distant even though he's barely a foot in front of Ranboo. Purpled keeps moving. Ranboo lingers behind, tilting his head up to stare at the red sky. He feels entirely too small underneath such a sky. Olive's words bring him cold comfort, but the expression Purpled wears as he turns around makes Ranboo feel slightly better. "Come on, Ranboo. We're heading north."

"What's the point? Nothing is there!" Ranboo shouts, raising his arms up. The dried blood digs into his skin, tearing as he moves his limbs with more force than he has in the past few hours of aimlessly walking behind Purpled.

"The empire might have fallen, but Alfheim must still stand. Their wards wouldn't fail. They might not let us in, but I would rather my odds there than here," Purpled explains gently, like coaxing a terrified child.

"What makes you think Alfheim survived all this?!" Ranboo shouts at Purpled, feeling nothing when Purpled flinches back half a step. Ranboo's emotions flare dangerously inside his body as he meets Purpled's eyes, trying to find the last sparks of starlight that always seemed to glow there even with the cloudy sky. It isn't there, hasn't been since the redness descended across the sky, but Ranboo doesn't care. "Alfheim was the first place to be attacked, Purpled. That... thing... it wanted Alfheim to fall. It wanted to ravage the lands with fire."

"It wasn't fire," Purpled shakes his head. "And that wasn't a thing. It was-"

A scream tears through the night. Purpled and Ranboo jerk their attention towards the noise. Ranboo's eyes widen, and Purpled mutters, "Oh, fuck this."

—

Tommy closes his door behind him. He breathes out heavily, closing his eyes as he puts his entire weight against the frame. When he blinks his eyes open, he notices Deo lying on the couch. The mercenary is playing with the ends of his blindfold, bored out of his mind. Tommy laughs quietly, attracting Deo's attention. The mercenary grins at Tommy, unmoving. Tommy pushes off the door, going further in the room. "I have one more mission for you, Time. After that, you can leave for good."

Tommy stands beside the coffee table. He pulls a pouch out of his parka. He drops it onto the table, listening to the satisfying twinkle of dozens of golden coins. Deo's eyes widen. He swings his legs off the side of the couch, lifting up the pouch. He shakes it against his ear, a slow smile coming to face as he estimates the amount based on sound. Tommy rolls his eyes. "I'm also paying for your silence on this matter."

"What needs to be done?" Deo asks, eagerness rifled all throughout his voice. Tommy meanders across the room. He lifts the birdcage holding Sneeg's familiar. As Tommy moves the damned bird, the water familiar from Steve follows behind. Tommy shoves them both into his wardrobe, slamming the wooden doors shut immediately. The water familiar's gurgling grows quiet, and the air familiar never made a noise in the first place.

"I need you to cut something," Tommy admits slowly, his words careful and controlled. He sounds unnaturally calm in his own ears. Even his heart has slowed to something cold and disquieting.

"My specialty. What do you need to cut?" Deo asks. He drops the pouch on the table. He draws his sword, letting the refined metal shine in the light that descends from the windows. Tommy glances out the window. The sky is beautiful. He wants to join it for some reason. It feels like an orchestra to him, and he's an instrument waiting to join the harmony. Tommy shakes his head, ignoring such impulses.

He walks over to Deo. The mercenary is regarding Tommy curiously. Tommy gives him a rueful smile. He pulls off his parka, letting it drop onto the couch. Tommy releases the Origin magic. In a flash of white, Tommy's wings expand from his back. The feathers are an off-white shade from poor hygiene, but it is evident that they could be pure as snow if they were clean. Tommy even thinks he's starting to see some edges of metallic gold underneath the murk. Tommy glares at them with disgust, and they hang heavily behind him in a way that genuinely feels mocking. Tommy looks away from them to stare into Deo's blindfold. Even though he doesn't have Deo's eyes to pick emotions out of, the slack jaw and jerky body language convey his surprise easily.

"I want my wings to be cut," Tommy remarks plainly. He steps over to the fireplace. He touches his hand to one of the pokers. The black iron is heavy in his hands, and Tommy shudders, setting it in the fire. "I wanted to do this in the bathroom because of all the blood, but we'll need to cauterize the wound to seal it."

"Wait!" Deo shouts, his voice ripping out of his throat like an arrow from a bow. "Why the hell do you want to cut your wings? Aren't avians important in this empire?"

"It's because they're important that I need them cut. With Wilbur back, he's the Tsesarevich. I have my doubts that the nobility will allow a phantom to sit on the throne. I know for certain that the resistance will be greater if news of my wings were to spread," Tommy explains, poking at the firewood with the poker. Red-orange sparks burst from the charred pieces. Tommy watches them with a growing sickness in his stomach. Tommy looks away, noticing that Deo has gotten closer. "I've just gotten my brother back, Deo. I can't lose him again."

"Why can't you just hide your wings? You have access to Origin magic!" Deo demands, showing far more resistance to the idea than Tommy thought he would. Deo has killed for less coins. Tommy is only asking for an appendage to be removed, a wound to be cauterized, and silence to be kept. It doesn't seem like too much given how many gold coins Tommy put on the table.

"I can't just hide them. My Origin magic isn't strong enough for that. Even if I could, I can't risk this," Tommy explains. He rises to his feet, staring at Deo with determination and intensity. Deo's form is bathed in shadow as Tommy stands between him and the flames, indecision cackling as loudly as the fire behind Tommy's ankles. "I tell you again: I want you to cut my wings."

"Do you know why I'm a mercenary?" Deo asks suddenly, his voice lowered like his face.

"I don't- what does it- ugh, it's for money, no?" Tommy startles.

Deo tilts his head to the side, shrugging with one shoulder. "That's one reason, sure. Another reason is adventure. If I can get those things, what does it matter what my job title is? I might as well become one of your knights."

"I have knights. Jack is right outside. I have a guard who does his duty at night. There's also Niki," Tommy explains, entirely unsure where this is coming from.

"Jack is going to leave soon. That other knight has no true loyalty to you. Niki has other responsibilities, like the ones she's forging with the empire's reformed Syndicate," Deo counters.

"Did you have a vision?" Tommy asks.

"I did," Deo nods, his expression growing stormy. "Another reason I became a mercenary specifically was for protection. If I didn't stay in one place for too long, no one would know that I wasn't normal. There's barely anywhere on the continent that accepts Diviners. Yet for some reason, you, a member of the imperial family of the most notorious nation for killing Diviners, kept me around. You paid me. You haven't threatened me."

"I used your visions for my gain-"

"I let you use my visions, and look what came out of it? I teleported across the continent. I met the Warden. I have learned more about the nature of this world than any scholar ever could, and I fucking hate those guys, so I'm glad I'm better than them," Deo cuts Tommy off. "You know, my first instinct in the simulation was to kick you and Hetta out, but I didn't, okay? I didn't because I trust you."

"You really shouldn't-"

Deo lowers himself onto one knee. He makes a strange expression. Tommy rushes to stop him, but the words come out, strong and true. "From this day henceforth, I, Time Deo of Las Nevadas, pledge my loyalty to you, Theseus 'Tiberius' Craft. May my body become your shield, may my will become your sword, and may my soul reside eternally by yours."

"Oh, what the fuck?" Tommy whispers to himself. The firelight on Deo's arm seems to imprint there, turning into a tattoo of sunrise orange and metal gold.

"I saw a Drywaters knight take this oath a long time ago. I never thought I would need to use it," Deo smiles, a laugh at the corners of his voice.

"Do you even know the consequences what you've just done?" Tommy demands, reaching to grab Deo's shoulders. Tommy wants to shake him until all of his stupidity comes loose. Tommy doubts he could ever shake Deo enough for that to happen.

"I'm excited to find out." Deo's smile is bright, genuine, homely like a cozy hearth. The firelight flickers across the edges of his form, and Tommy's shadow casts darkness down the middle. The dissonance adds to this internal radiance that exudes from Deo for no apparent reason at all. It's the kind of luminosity that makes it hard for Tommy to stay there, to stay mad. He pushes his hands off Deo's shoulder, grumbling to himself and walking away. His wings drag behind him, a reminder that Deo has refused to help Tommy. The blonde could order Deo to do it, but taking away Deo's autonomy feels wrong in a way that only someone who's been beaten down by fate can feel.

Tommy drags a box over to his wardrobe. He opens the door. He stares down at the air and water familiars. He glares at them, snarling. He moves past them, grabbing random clothes and chunking them into the box. Deo remains idle by the fire, staring into it with a serene expression like he's just done well. Tommy wants to strangle him all of a sudden.

"Your highness, the jester is here to see you," Jack's voice calls. Tommy startles. His wings flare in panic before he uses Origin magic to hide them away. Deo rises from his kneeling position. He hurries over to the door to open it for Orion.

Like Deo, Orion is wearing a bright and beautiful smile. When he sees Tommy, his eyes flash merrily, "I'll help you pack!"

Orion bounds right over, skips in his step, and he helps Tommy organize his clothes. Where Tommy threw them in, Orion folds them and gently puts them in different stacks with some common theme Tommy is not privy to. While they do this, Orion hums a delightful tune, his excitement swirling around him. It's infectious enough that Tommy feels his own blistering feelings ease away. "Did something happen, Orion?"

"Oh, surely, something did! I got to see my old friends again. It was for a moment, and I didn't actually get to talk to them, but I did see them! What beautiful visages they had to be weary eyes," Orion brightens, sighing happily. He glances over at Tommy, a pair of pants waiting in his lap to be moved to the box. "The necromancer witch is actually a High Elf, not just an elf. His bloodline allows him to use his body as a vessel. High Elves of past generations allowed powerful entities to possess their bodies, but the witch has allowed ghosts to enter his."

Tommy smiles at Orion, a flush of happiness for the jester who seems to have lived numerous unhealthy lives. Tommy's feelings are morphed somewhat when he realizes how this might be beneficial for him to meet Orion's friends, too, if these are the same people from the stories. Tommy wants to know more about them. Tommy opens his mouth, a question slipping out, "Are you from the End or the Aether?"

Orion stalls. His smile grows fuzzier. He seems remorseful as he speaks. "I was laid- or, I suppose you would say born– in the End, but I was moved to the Aether during the war. I left the Aether with my friend, and, well, you remember the stories, don't you?"

"Did you tell me these stories as a way of giving me information without risking the taboo knowledge driving me insane?" Tommy asks.

"My little prince was always so smart!" Orion laughs, high and sweet like a hummingbird in honey. Orion's merriment washes away into sobriety as he asks, "How is your sickness?"

"I have my brother and my friend back," Tommy reminds Orion, feeling like he's reminding himself.

"I know from experience that sometimes good events can lead to negative ripples," Orion tells Tommy, slicing cleanly through Tommy's self-imposed arguments. "I can see it in your eyes, you know, the sickness. It will consume you if you let it."

"I won't let it," Tommy assures Orion, his words more confident than he feels.

"It doesn't work like that. You should be careful in the elven cities," Orion says, closing the trunk as soon as he and Tommy are finished. Orion looks toward the window, estimating the time from the light. "I should leave now. Thank you for the engaging conversation. I wanted to say goodbye before you go. Enjoy your time. Let this be a vacation, not a punishment."

Orion leaves, and Tommy sits on the top of the trunk. He mulls over both Orion's words and Sophia's. He feels like he's missing too much, and the prophecy doesn't bode well in his mind. Tommy's swirling thoughts are cut off by Deo asking, "What did the jester mean by sickness?"

"Nothing that truly matters..." Tommy murmurs. He would have kept going, but Deo squats down beside him. He places a hand on Tommy's forearm, his gold and orange tattoo shimmering. Deo smiles at Tommy, and the blonde breathes out his nose, a half-smile on his lips. Neither of them say anything, but Tommy feels like an understanding has been reached.

—

The trouble with Theseus' red wings is that Ranboo is never sure if they're bleeding or not until he's cleaning it up off the prince's bedroom floor.