Chapter Text
The fluttering fractured being was shifting the "thread" this way and that, trying haphazardly to remake a shape over a container it barely remembered.
Hard to remember what you never saw.
It didn't help that each stitch would either refuse to sit or remove itself entirely. He almost wanted to stop out of frustration, but this was the first time he'd had enough energy and material to repair his spirit. Unfortunately, the red material he used as "thread" was very adamant about the shape it wanted to be.
The most frustrating part was he was content with most of what it created or added, but it also wanted to change his face. Specifically, his sight. His sight was precious to him as it allowed him to see beyond. Each sense was a signature on its own, but what he saw was always a wonder.
He couldn't remember when everything went from nothing to everything, but he was happy for it none the less. So much to take in and understand.
The first was the crystal he was surrounded by. It was a darker color that was both strong and warm and it surrounded him with a feeling that was joyful and like he would always be safe. Her sound was a song and always came from all around him. He'd learned she'd talk more if he moved. Often it would be with excitement, other times exasperation.
She'd talk and speak to him in patterns and sounds he didn't quite understand, and it was clear that when he tried to respond she didn't hear him. But the waves and shifts they made in the violet crystals, the amethyst, around him let him know it was something he'd learn.
Shapes and colors would move around outside often, but he couldn't make them out until they got close enough; A triplet of blue fire that cooed in different tones, a yellow kaleidoscope of sticky goo that filled his haven with sweetness, a pink melting wax with smoke that made everything feel slow, or a weird green fuzzball with spines that jingled.
Though this detail from many of the outside lights was rare, there were always two that would appear consistently.
A bright red and gold light would often come close and burn with a warmth the crystal couldn't produce. It was always radiating happiness each time it stretched out to run along the outside of the amethyst being he existed in. A sun.
The other was smaller and made from an uncountable number of colors and sparkling dust that would bounce around and it giggled like bells. Rainbows and stardust.
It was warmth and happiness and love.
But that was before.
Before the breath that used to come so easily suddenly began to thin, until it stole itself away entirely.
Before the being of marble.
The marble being was so bright, almost washed of all the color it could've had. The stone absorbed the warmth around it but never became warm itself. When it made noise, the pristine white rock fractured apart, and a putrid bile of disdain and disgust poured forth covered by a layer of self-righteous purpose.
The thing made the sun spark and sputter in anxiety and panic, and the crystal around him shifted. The once blunted points becoming sharp and lethal from barely contained rage before the feeling of sadness, regret, and determined resolve washed over him.
The marble being left but the cold dread it left behind never did. It stayed, and then it spread. Slow enough that he didn't realize what had happened until he was already cold. The warmth diminished to nothing but resentment, pain and anger. Vibrant purple of the crystal faded until it was overshadowed by a dull grey. The sun would burst and flare in desperation as if to re-ignite it, but it never did.
She didn't speak to him anymore. He tried moving as much as possible once, just to get some happy reaction that he used to from her but when she responded in pained sorrow, he stilled all together.
He couldn't help but try to ask, even knowing they couldn't hear. Why? What happened? What was so wrong that everything was falling apart? Was she hurt? Was it what the marble being did?
But nothing outside he could see had changed. He couldn't feel any pain radiating from her. And the marble being was scary, but it was gone now it couldn't be doing this.
.....was it him? But what did he do? What did he do? Whatever it was he's sorry, it's cold and it hurts. Please don't be mad. He'll stop moving! He'll be quiet! He won't look outside if that's what's wrong.
What did I do wrong?
What’s wrong with me?
......
He lost track of how long he tried before he couldn't anymore. Then the crystal made him leave, and the cold turned freezing, and everything stopped.
He sunk. Down, down, down, through ink and dark. Small lights scattered far and few between drifted through the dark with him. Some were still giving off a dim light and whole while others, entangled and skewered by vinelike structures, were little more than dark husks slowly breaking apart into nothing.
It was dark and quiet.
No, not quiet. Silent. Something was already here.
Something below began to shift. It's form too big to truly see but it stretched out long black tendrils that snatched at the smaller lights before pulling them down. One by one they were torn apart, disintegrated, or simply swallowed out of existence. Countless eyes glowing in a darkened red started opening and looking further for more scraps until they settled on him.
He bolted upward trying to flee back into his old body but slammed into a solid wall.
The thing made a sound like a distorted giggle as if amused and grabbed for him. He managed to dart away from a few vines that wavered as the thing continued shaking, but it only delayed the inevitable when one managed to latch on and wasted no time wrapping around him. The tendrils rooted their way into him, and he started disintegrating everywhere they touched. Painful cracks fractured across his form, and he could feel himself coming apart.
JFDNY IOFU IROJF IOEW
A burning light broke the ceiling from above, an opening. The roots loosened in distraction, and he yanked upward tearing away pieces of himself in the process of getting away. He felt the roots move upward to catch him again, but only a screech of indignation managed to truly follow him.
Then everything restarted.
He found himself in a cold container, that did not move and did not speak. He watched the sun pore a little more magic into it before he left it be. A grand tree had been made over his old body, and he’d fled into it. He supposed it was a last kindness, since anything was better than being down there.
The amethyst, the sun, and the rainbow remained with him. The amethyst and sun would come out occasionally to spend time with him, but they were always dim from sadness or pain when they did. They never stayed very long.
Only the rainbow, his sister he’d come to learn, ever came out to play where he stood. Shining in colors that were still so happy. Though, even those events became far and few between as the decades passed. They ceased entirely when the amethyst left, along with his sister.
And then the sun went dark.
Days, weeks, months, years went by blending into the next. Only reason he knew that time passed at all was the giant circle faced tower (he’d long since come to hate it) which would signal the day the sky would split open and black and white beings made of blades would flood the sky. A small few were clean and new, but the rest would be in some state of rust and seeping blood. They always preceded the air being filled with blood and pain and fear. And regardless of their condition when they arrived, they all left bloodied.
He attempted to try and reunite with his old body in the hopes that if he could move, he could at least leave behind the air of blood if not find the lights he’d come to know. But it wasn’t to be as his old body was surrounded by a massive amount of shielding. Even after spending months learning how to weave his soul through the fractal cracks in the magic without damaging himself, another far worse issue presented itself. His fractured spirit was unable to fill the spaces it no longer had, and the cracks in his soul only broke apart further as he pushed. He had no choice but to return to the tree. The container that was a haven from the silent darkness below had now become a prison.
Had he been subjected to only having the slaughter to break up the isolation and solitude, he would have gone mad from it. In a way he did, he supposed, learning how to have his mind go blank in what was as close to sleep as he could get in this state. A type of haze that allowed his sight to cease perceiving the outside world and let his thoughts wander away from the horror. It often lasted longer than the day of blood would and ate into the time after, but considering he was alone anyway he didn’t see any issue with what he missed.
Funny, how in his attempt to hide from the worst of it he almost missed the best, as it was from one of those very ‘sleeps’, that he was jolted into consciousness.
The sun had sparked and flared, startled by something that had gotten inside the shields. It lit up for the first time in so long that he'd almost forgotten its colors.
Trying to look closer at the disturbance found something tall and red and… amused? The sun wasn't happy about this new, red, tall thing that had entered the home, but it pranced around and set off a wave into the sky before it and the sun left the castle together.
The sun returned later but left often after that. The red tall horned thing.... deer? Deer. would come back periodically. It was odd. The red deer made these weird vibrations from his antlers constantly. He tried to replicate it, just to see if he could use it to talk, but he's pretty sure he did it wrong when the deer barely shifted past a flicking ear, and the dark misty thing that clung to its hooves didn’t even move.
Time moved onward until one day the amethyst lady and his sister followed the deer home. The amethyst lady was calmer, and the sun was brighter. His sister covered herself in thin grey clouds, but the rainbows and sparkles still shined through. They were happier than they'd been in so long, but they were happiest when the red deer was present. He was grateful. There was warmth again even if he could only watch.
Time moved onward and more things happened and more…. and more.
Until today, the day it ended.
His container didn't move outside what the wind made it. It didn't speak, it didn't hear, and outside of the sight his soul gave him, didn't see.
But it felt.
Energy that shifted around it.
Things that cut into it.
Things that bled on and into it.
He’d gone to sleep again for another day of blood, but this time when he was thrust back into consciousness it wasn’t from surprise (though there was quite a bit of it). No, this time he woke with violence. A screaming cacophony of noise ripped through his form from outside contact: blood, hatred, wrath, vengeance!
The red deer had been stabbed clean through, the spear point scraping against his bark, and was clawing at his trunk to maintain an upright stance. It bared its teeth and magic at an assailant that followed; trying to remove the spear even as blood dripped down onto his roots.
One of the white and black bladed beings that wasn’t supposed to be here sprinted at them. Blood, dark and light, its own and others, covered it, all while disdain and disgust bolstered by self-righteous purpose poured from it.
No.
This wasn't happening again.
Not here.
Not to this one.
This was where his sister played and the amethyst lady sang and the sun shined again, all because of this red deer.
He wouldn't have it.
This wasn't being taken again.
NO
A burst of energy surged up and out shoving the spear out and hurling it toward and into the one-that-is-not-allowed-here, pinning it by its head to the opposing gate.
The red deer slid to the ground no longer bothering trying to stand as blood coughed up from their throat with pain and annoyance sparking off it. Black tendrils came up from the deer’s shadow and conjured green threads haphazardly crisscrossing over the puncture and sealing it. Then more went to the black and white body grabbing it and tucking it away inside the mist.
Red ears swiveled this way and that as tiny micro-waves transmitted out from antlers tapping at his form. They tickled as they bounced off him and he couldn’t help but shake them away. Another cough and the ears stilled and the micro-waves ceased. The deer’s antlers sent out a larger wave as if picking back up a conversation where it had simply been interrupted.
Other black and white creatures still flooded the skies, so he extended his branches and opened his leaves. The deer slumped further, and his breathing became ragged, so he grew up his roots to support him. Far too much time passed as blood continued to spill, and the waves continued to emit. Then, as if a switch had flipped, the violence ceased, and it was quiet again.
For all of one second.
The sun burst out of a tear in the fabric of space. Healing magic pouring out of it and onto the red deer, into the blood that seeped into his roots.
And into his body.
He'd scrambled trying to collect everything he could. It was more than enough to sew the pieces of his spirit back together, but it was both fickle and stubborn. He could live with the ears that were forming above him, but then the thread would move downward over the top of his face trying to replace what was already there and he’d halt it before it could even start. This would of course result in the entire thing unraveling itself to the point where he’d have to begin again.
He almost wanted to sob at the fourth unraveling. He did on the fifth. He only had so much energy to give to this, and it would likely be his only shot at being able to ‘return’. But he couldn’t give his sight up. He didn’t know how he knew but he needed to find out what had gone wrong, and he needed his sight to do that. He could make it better; he would find out what was wrong and fix himself and be warm and happy and loved again. And never have to go back to the dark silent scary place if the thread would just work with him!
Hello!
!!!!!!!!
He was so focused on trying to get the stitches to set he didn't realize a being made of black smoke had managed to surround him.
My you are an unexpected find, aren't you?
.......It was looking at him. And talking to him. How?
Oh It was child’s play really, radio waves are quite versatile. Once you started broadcasting again it was simply a matter of picking up the right frequency!
Frequency?
Your projections. My pillar can’t clearly register transmissions so fixed to the ground, but I certainly can!
He looked at the thing around him and finally recognized it. The shadow that usually sat under the red deer.
What… what are you?
It grinned one half of two.
Well, that didn't explain anything, and by the curl in the grin on the dark being’s face, it knew it. He squirmed trying to get out from the center of it which was starting to feel too much like the roots from below, but it just shook with laughter and twined around him further.
Now, now, it's rude to try and leave before even introducing yourself. And you look awfully tied up at the moment with delicate work. Wouldn’t want to accidentally break something by shifting too much, would we?
He stilled; it wasn't wrong. He was already risking allowing too much material to slip through his hold from this pause alone, but the fragments of his soul were also too entwined in the threads to stop entirely. He needed to keep going if he was going to fix what went wrong anyway. He couldn’t move, couldn’t hear, couldn’t talk, and he needed all of that to find out how to fix what was wrong with him so he could go back.
So they’d love him again.
But what if he came back and they still didn’t want him? What if he came back worse?
He looked down at the meager progress he’d made and wilted. Even if he managed to finish it all, his body would reflect any changes and likely turn into a broken wreck with how patchy the stitching was.
Oh, come now! You were so enthusiastic few seconds ago. You can keep going, it's not like he's using that anymore, and he'd be happy to know it isn't going to waste.
..... I can’t.
What was that? You're going to have to be a bit louder.
I can’t do it right.
Of course you can! The thread’s made from fresh blood and angel magic it practically stitches itself!
But that’s the problem!
?
I’m trying to keep my sight! I can’t see without it and I need it, but it keeps trying to change it! He started shaking and clutching hard at the threads trying not to cry. And when I don’t let it, it unravels, and it takes so much energy just to get it settled in the first place.
The shade looked closer at the failing stitches and tilted its head in consideration. Something that was broken must either be changed to come back as something else or added too to heal. You can’t put a broken pot back together without glue and even then, it’s unlikely to ever hold water again. It looked down at him Are you certain this is all that you want to keep. You’re not concerned about anything else it’s changing, or adding?
No?
….Very well. The shade made a motion as if it was rolling up its sleeves. Here, give me that.
The shade grabbed ahold of the thread he’d been trying and failing to fenagle, and a green needle was conjured into existence to catch it.
Normally a lesson would be better than doing it myself, but we’re under time constraints and you look nearly at your wits end, and no one listens well when they’re frustrated. We’ll just have to put a pin in this for later.
More hands and needles came from its form and began to sew with speed and precision that reduced pain from the stab and pull of the thread. He was held in place as fractures were stitched closed, entire missing segments were sewn and attached, extra parts began to fill in and when it got to his face the thread shifted to add rather than change.
He felt the space just below the crown of his head split open three ways. One centered vertically that felt like something was stabbing inward and being poured into. Two more canted up and away from the center on either side just above his eyes. These felt like they were being burst open with power from the inside. He grasped hold of the being around him, focusing on trying not to scream as his form was ripped open.
He started slipping into sleep trying to run away from the pain, but the shade tapped at his face. If you must find a distraction, tell me your name.
…Huh?
Don’t think I didn’t notice you didn’t introduce yourself. I’m still waiting for a name.
…..You didn’t tell me yours.
You didn’t ask that. You asked what I was, and I answered, now it’s your turn. What’s your name?
His name.
A single word had been spoken to reference him before everything froze and went dark, and a handful of times after he’d come back by the amethyst and the sun when they came to his tree in the past. He thinks it was supposed to be his name.
But he hadn’t even used it for himself yet.
Are you going to tell anyone else?
Oh, not likely. It shrugged finishing up the last of his face before turning and looking down, shifting its form to prod at something below. Not many can hear me. You’d be the second. Though that may be more from your present condition than any ability you have. Its ever-present smile widened momentarily before returning its attention back to him, expectant. Sooooo? No better way to start than by a name.
He hesitated only a moment more before deciding ….. I think….. they called me Alexander.
The shade smiled at him before pulling the threads taught, severing the excess and shoving him down into his body where the thread ends anchored themselves.
__________________________
Violet eyes snapped open as a body took breath for the first time in over a century and immediately cried out in pain as the container changed to fit the soul. Feet extended, broke, and morphed to become hooves. Golden deer ears with fawn spots sprouted from the top of equally golden tresses. Blond fur grew along arms and legs and down a now speckled back, as a tail wiggled into existence. Three black lines engraved themselves into its forehead.
Chaotic healing magic sucked inward from outside sources to supplement underdeveloped organs and missing weight. Had there been anyone watching from outside they would've seen the golden tree concave in on itself, shriveling into nothing as a shadow darted away to avoid being pulled in with it.
Energy from the resurrection began to leak out and break apart the ground around the casket and darkness from below shifted its attention to come closer. Fear spiked; Angelic, hell born, and mortal magic swirled and clashed. A tiny flick of energy reached up from below, salivating for an interesting direction, and on a quiet night the Morningstar gardens exploded.
__________________________
Moonlight shines down through the trees of the eastern park, crickets sing and leaves rustle in a gentle breeze. All is quiet and still until a ripple of magic breaks through the sky, invisible to all but one, a warning to indicate the crossing of a specific signature. For a moment more, the park remains calm before a burning ball of flame careens over the walls that surround it. It bounces once, twice, three times across the grass, smashing into the trunk of a well-grown tree. The runes that cover it flicker before a last dark spark of decay ripples across them, and they go out like a blown candle. The smoke dissipates and with a groan the wood falls apart, dropping open to reveal its precious cargo to the night air.
The air that runs across his skin is cold and Alex curls up to protect himself from it, crying out to anyone who would hear. The cold wind whips around him and something makes its way toward where he lay. Violet eyes squint open trying to see through the light he isn’t used to and a glacial being towers over him, frozen in place. He can see frosty wisps of concern and confusion rolling off it, but the center of the ice is clear, there is no malice from this being, not towards him. Alex squirms reaching upward, not understanding why it doesn’t move and projecting his confusion outward. If the shade can hear his projections surely the being before him can too, right?
But the being tilts back like it’s moving away, the ears on his head press down onto his skull in distress, and Alex cries out in panic. An onslaught of fear and panic and loneliness projected outward along with a desperate Please don’t leave! The glacier jolts forward, picking him up to cradle him and Alex clutches at the being with all the strength his little fists can give. Its form shifts slightly and some of the ice that makes it up breaks apart. Tiny bits of crystalized water flutter around his head and refract light. Snow.
The cold hasn’t abated but now it’s soft and a heavy feeling of safety wraps around him. The fear and adrenaline that had kept him conscious through the pain of his body’s transformation leaves him and Alex slips into sleep.