Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A cow was standing on a patch of grass.

In the next instant, the cow couldn’t make a sound.

The shadow of a gigantic winged creature could be seen before it slammed into the ground, the cow no where to be seen.

The monstrous beast lifted its beak to the dark night sky, and the sliver of moonlight caught the piercing blue of its eyes.

It was a Crow. A bird that was as large as a legendary griffin, supposed to be a mocking, small threat.

The Crow screeched into the night, cawing its claim over the vast forest as its domain.

No one would step in without its permission.

—————————

The crack of a particularly biting wind jolted him awake. His loose clothes hung limply on him as he sat up, looking around.

The man paused. He still had all his belongings, somehow, and his hat had fallen next to him when he had jerked awake.

Right. His name was Philza.

The man repeated it to himself. He was Philza Minecraft, and he was in the middle of a seemingly neverending forest.

He looked towards where he could see faint light, and was relieved to see the dawn.

The sun would be very helpful for figuring out exactly where he was.

Phil stood up, stumbling. His legs seemed like they didn’t quite know how to work, and his arms flailed a little bit before he remembered that he could use his arms, too.

Phil awkwardly walked to the nearest tree, placing a careful hand on the dry bark. He stared down at his hand, clenching the fist, letting go, flexing his fingers.

Yeah, okay. He could use his hands to do things, too, instead of thinking he could just clutch his toes in the warm shoes.

He took a deep breath and looked towards the sun again. He closed his eyes, and he could feel the warmth of the rays on his face.

He got this. He could get out of this forest.

Phil started to pound the tree, hearing it creak as he willed it to drop the wood he needed to get started.

Phil held the wood in his hands. He knew how to craft. It was coming back.

He made a crafting table and set it down. He only had today to escape.

He was Philza Minecraft, and he’d be damned if he hadn’t survived five years by himself just fine, and couldn’t survive this.

Whatever this was.

His next goal was food and water.

Glancing up at the sun, he estimated he had quite a while before dusk hit. That had to be enough time.

Phil started digging underground. Hopefully she was watching over him during this trial, because this would all be worth it after.

But now, he prayed that iron wasn’t too far away.

Phil spent hours like that, gathering iron for a bucket, searching for water, getting the necessary supplies for the journey.

He was forced to waste time chasing animals and roasting their meat for food. It was only made more difficult when they looked into his eyes and shook with fear before bolting.

He guessed they’d seen the too-vivid blue eyes and felt the shadow of the monster from him.

Phil quietly made a dark veil over his eyes with leftover wool and silk he’d found.

Before he knew it, the sun wasn’t as bright, and he only had a few hours till dusk.

Phil hefted the bucket of water and nodded decisively.

It was time to go.

If he couldn’t make it out of the forest, at least he could make a trail to follow.

Phil started running, eating to keep his hunger filled. He didn’t even care where he blindly placed the torches, just in some vague path his future self could follow.

The weathered man spent the next few hours just running, and eating, and occasionally recovering his breath before moving forward.

Sooner than he would have liked, it was almost dusk. He had to stop here, or it would have been all in vain.

Phil dug straight down a couple blocks and placed a chest. After he put all of his measly belongings in there, he stared at it for a moment.

A beast wouldn’t bother digging down for items like this. He’d made sure.

He was going to survive this. He was going to prove that what he was fighting for was worth it.

Phil jumped up and covered the few blocks to stand on the ground again. Inhale. Exhale.

He turned to look at the descending sun, blinding light the signal of the calm before the storm. As the sun faded, Phil smiled one last time.

He fell to his knees as his body was paralyzed by overwhelming pain. His arm was trying to flatten out in inhumanely shape, and his bones felt like they were being crushed.

He let out a choked scream, writhing on the ground. His once-arm was spread in at an unnatural angle meant for a wing, and then suddenly it was a black wing.

It just kept growing. His other arm followed suit, until Phil could no longer prop himself up and collapsed completely into the dirt.

Despite his arms being useless wings that were growing, and growing, he somehow managed to drag his burning body upright with his yet unchanged legs.

Once the man got to his knees again, he was frozen there as the last of the changes washed over him.

The skin turns black with feathers, and the eyes bulged out.

After a minute, the man was no more. The black beast stood tall on its talons.

It lifted its beak and blinked its unnaturally blue eyes.

The Crowfather would now rule the night.

Chapter Text

The man woke again. There was wind swirling around the wood platform he was resting on, and his green tunic blew with the wind.

He sat up, blinking. He was in a wooden structure on top of trees. Trees that weren’t very close to the ground.

He pounded a fist into his chest, and breathed. A faint light caught his gaze, and he looked towards the sun, just starting to rise.

His name was Philza Minecraft, and he just woke up in the vast, dark forest that the monster called its territory.

He looked up at the sky as the dark curtain rose to reveal the sun’s first rays over the world, and remembered what his purpose was.

Phil looked down at himself, seeing the tattered clothing and the bruises, and feeling the aches.

No matter how long it took, he was going to do this. For her, he would overcome any trial.

For now, he was going to figure out a way down.

Phil studied the area he had landed in. It appeared to be a nest made literally out of the trees surrounding it, stripped down into smaller branches that pieced it together. There were plentiful leaves and wool in the middle to be comfortable, and it looked lived in.

Chances were he was going to come back to this spot the next day, so he should start marking here.

Phil was grateful the branches were thick as he started to make his way down. He didn’t want to break his legs on the way down, so he took his time, and clung to the branches above tighter every time his foot slipped.

Phil needed to find better wood and materials to make new shoes out of. Of course the transformation had left them somewhere.

He jumped the rest of the way down, looking around. There were smaller trees he could use to start his journey over again with. He had already spent too much time getting out of the nest.

Once Phil had a pair of decent shoes, he sighed in relief. Now, he could focus on figuring out where the nest was, and where the path he’d left was.

Phil picked up his handy axe, and looked towards the sun again. He had to crane his neck, as the sun was beaming down somewhat higher than before.

Good, he hadn’t wasted too much time. The veil of darkness had disappeared that way, and if the sun had been over this way last time…

There it was. Phil let himself have a small, satisfied smile before focusing. Now he was back on the trail.

He followed it, looking around to spot all the torches he had placed in a hurry as markers, and kept walking.

Phil walked, and walked, and ignored his hunger, and kept walking. Soon, the sun was coming down from its peak, blasting Phil in the face with its rays. He winced, covering his eyes and continuing on.

The dark veil had been a comfort he didn’t realize he would miss so dearly.

Phil looked up at the sky, stopping for a few moments.

A single man projected to the gods above his wishes in the middle of a neverending forest he was doing his best to escape.

There was no answer back.

The man turned to face forward again, striding now. That wasn’t going to stop him from achieving his goal for this journey.

He wasn’t going to let his efforts be in vain, however meaningless his little journey seemed.

The determined man arrived at a spot in the forest with only a few hours until dusk left, and he thought to himself that this was more than enough progress.

Philza Minecraft dug down and found his treasured chest with all of his worldly items, and replaced the spot before continuing onwards

That was the only direction he could go. He wasn’t abandoning anything now.

He had nothing to lose, after all.

—————————

The green-clad man woke up. He struggled to his feet, and saw a nest in the sky above minuscule trees. He saw a giant wall around the perimeter of the nest.

The man saw all this and thought: This was fine. He could work with this.

He raised his head to the skies, and stared at the veil of night being pushed away by the first light of the sunrise. The stars of night were fading in the glory of the new dawn, and it felt like a hopeful start.

A man in the middle of a lofty nest above the moderately sized forest looked at the sky, and projected his wishes to the gods above.

There was no answer.

The man closed his eyes, and felt his clenched fist against his chest, the little heart beating steadily inside.

His name was Philza Minecraft, and he’d be damned if he didn’t survive this, too.

Phil carefully made his way to the walls surrounding the wooden nest, towering over the small person trying to escape its clutches.

The man stared up at the imposing walls, and lifted his hand in a one-finger salute.

Fuck you.

He started climbing.

It was awkward at first, figuring out safe, sturdy branches to step on. He managed to do so fine, if a little hesitantly. It was slow, but steady.

The view on top of the nest was worth every second of struggle. Philza Minecraft looked down upon the daunting forest that seemed so normal, and sucked in a breath.

If this was what it felt to be on top of the world, then Phil would chase the feeling above that.

Phil was going to make every second of effort exerted worth the escape.

He looked down again, closing his eyes. He felt a cool breeze lift his hair.

The mortal little man took a step, and another, and then he was off. He had no safety feature, no wings, and no plan.

He had only his two arms and legs, and his brain. The man dropped 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 feet. The wind rushed by, whistling in his ears.

The man opened his weak eyes, and gripped his cloak before abruptly blowing it open. The wind threatened to tear his hands and arms apart for the bold move, cloak billowing out in an attempt to contain the strong blow.

And, somehow, the man made it work. He slowed down just enough to crash through the leaves of a heavy branch. Unable to catch the tree’s branches enough to stop, he tumbled to the ground, covered in stray leaves and resting on a weather old coat.

He laid on the ground, arms and legs spread out to soak in the wind. He closed his eyes again, and laughed into the sky.

A man had descended from the sky to touch the ground, and his joy seemed to radiate to the gods above to feel.

There was no answer except for the calmer wind that whipped around his body.

Phil sat up. He had spent enough time letting himself have the moment of pride.

Getting up, he looked at the sky again. The sun had only just risen, and it was the perfect time to continue.

Philza Minecraft started towards the trail he had left with determination burning in his unnaturally blue eyes.

—————————

He woke up in a nest littered with soft wool and leaves arranged in the center that he was resting on. The man looked around, and felt a jolt of shock at the meat lying in the nest next to him. It was raw.

The man got to his knees and took it. It was only a few hours old, which meant that It had left the food here.

The man couldn’t begin to think of why, so he tucked the meat away for later.

He looked up at the sky, and silently watched the sun chase away the glittering stars.

A man in a monster’s nest high above the trees looked at the sky and projected his wishes to the gods above, wishing happiness for those small stars.

There was no answer. The man closed his eyes and refocused on his body.

He wasn’t too injured from yesterday, so he was going to go.

The man climbed up the nest’s wall. Balanced at the very top, he saw at the sun barely starting its trek across the sky, and was pleased.

He leapt off.

Falling freely through the sky, he closed his eyes to indulge in a fantasy of freedom. He opened his eyes in time to clumsily hit a foot against the tree branches, and crashing to the ground.

The reckless man looked down at himself, getting to his feet. It hurt him, but not enough to stop him.

Philza Minecraft looked at the sky to let out a breath, and trudged forward.

—————————

The brave little man woke up, again, and again in the imposing nest that seemed like it could reach the clouds. The nest’s walls reached ever higher, and the sheer height never stopped being intimidating to the mortal man that dared to break out of the lofty perch.

The wind never stopped biting at his exposed skin, or tearing at his ragged cloak every time he fell from the nest.

The trees never stopped breaking his momentum and forcing him to crash into the ground.

The ground never relented in its harsh terrain.

The forest never stopped shaking his torches.

The animals never stopped to let easy food come.

They wouldn’t stop, and yet this man wouldn’t let it get to him.

The man kept fighting, against all odds, to get to where he wanted to go.

Philza Minecraft wasn’t going to stop for anything, nature be damned.

And if the gods never answered his silent cry, then he would take it as a victory that his efforts stunned them into silence.

He would be victorious and rewarded in his efforts in the view above the skies that never failed to take his breath away.

He would be rewarded in the rush of pride and exhaustion as he crashed down, finally on solid ground.

He would be rewarded in knowing that, somewhere above the skies, his dear love was watching.

And Philza Minecraft would keep going, nature be damned.

Phil managed to even develop a sort of routine in how he did everything. He would wake up, admire the night sky he could never see being chased away by the sun’s first rays.

He would climb the tall walls, and see the sun again, before he fell. It didn’t matter how he fell, so it was a great delight to leap off most of the time.

And he always crashed into the trees despite his best efforts to land gracefully.

He would start walking to where he had last left his stuff, dig them up, and then simply continue walking to try to find an environment that wasn’t covered in dark forest.

He’d look up to see dusk approaching, and he’d hurriedly bury his stuff before enduring the transformation.

The days started blurring into each other, but his motivation never faltered in his desire to escape. The man only tracked time in how much farther he had made it.

The other thing that helped Phil keep track was the progression of items in the nest itself and near the nest’s area.

There started to be more raw meat in the nest, and it seemed he woke up in a softer and comfier environment than the previous time. The walls were lined with soft feathers, which kind of made it harder for him to climb, but not a lot.

When Phil had crashed into the trees and brushed himself off, he notices that even more of the trees had been cleared around the nest, which made it harder to find one to land in. On the other hand, there was soft grass where there was only coarse dirt previously.

Now he couldn’t ignore this. It was clearly the beast inside him that had done this, but Phil was puzzled as to why.

There was no reason for It to make it more comfortable for him, so it had to be for Itself.

But that only explained a few odd things.

Phil was sure the nest being softer would comfort It, but then what was the point of the soft grass and cleared trees?

Aside from the branches and twigs used to extend the nest’s walls, the nest didn’t need any more wood.

The only conclusion Philza had was that it was for him, and that implied a lot of things he was reluctant to voice.

But as the days passed, and the gradual changes only became more apparent, Phil had just had enough.

Phil woke up one day, seeing all these extra items and changes that weren’t there last time, and didn’t move other than to sit up.

He couldn’t avoid it any longer, and he could extend his trail some other time. It had appeared he had gone the wrong way for escaping the forest, anyway, so he could spend today just thinking of another game plan.

Phil poked the feathers clumped in the middle of the nest carefully. They were soft and sleek, if a little dull. He assumed these were the Crow’s.

Phil had seen wings before, and these feathers looked freshly plucked. For some reason, Phil had been lying in them, completely covered in softness.

Phil picked up a feather, having to use two hands to even hold it upright. He opted to lay the middle across his lap, stroking it.

It was time to figure some things out. The Crow obviously knew about Phil, the squishy human that It shared a body with.

The mini-nest of feathers was small enough to fit a human. It was almost perfectly human-sized and that kind of scared Phil that maybe the Crow knew what a human looked like.

He paused. Well, looking at the mini-nest again, he had never bothered to fix it when he woke up as a human, so maybe the Crow had seen his imprints.

Then there was the meat. While it wasn’t cooked, it was still food It was leaving for Philza. So the Crow didn’t know he couldn’t eat raw meat without getting sick.

The only conclusion Phil could really reach was that the Crow was making an attempt to appease the human cohabiting with it for..something.

The most logical conclusion was to stop Phil from being so far away from Its nest, because if Phil woke up in the nest it meant the Crow gained consciousness in a random spot in the forest.

It was wild to believe that the beast living inside him had sentience. However, Phil was surrounded with the reasons why It did.

If it was sentient, at least enough to recognize its human inhabitant, then Phil could maybe try communicating with it.

It wouldn’t understand language, probably, so Phil would have to try pictures. He looked around, frowning.

There was no ink nearby that he could use, although he could just draw on the nest. It would have to be big enough for the Crow to see.

Phil snorted. What a turn his life had taken. He was trying to run, and now he was sitting here thinking about the logistics of communicating with a beast that slept inside of him.

What, was Phil going to reach into that one spot inside of him? Accidentally prod the beast inside awake enough to communicate telepathically?

Phil let out a chortle, looking up at the still-night sky with his arms wrapped around his knees that were propped against his chest.

Yeah, right.

Phil looked up at the sky, laughing as he projected his wish to the sky.

He closed his eyes, and despite his earlier words, poked a spot inside of him.

And then promptly fell over as he felt his heartbeat stutter.

Phil blinked, looking up at the sky, eyes wide, before looking down at his chest.

For a second, he could have sworn he had heard a chirp in response.

Chapter Text

The man looked around at his surroundings. There were no animals next to him, as expected. The nest was high in the sky, and any birds fool enough to fly up to the nest got snapped up by the Crow.

Not that any would want to try. Phil walked over to the side of the nest, and poked a well-used foothold with a stick. It would break if he poked it hard enough, but he needed a durable spear.

Phil walked around the nest, collecting stray wood the Crow had dropped from larger branches. It took him quite a bit of time to actually walk around the perimeter of the nest. It was quite big in order to fit the Crow, it seemed.

Now curious, he pressed a hand to a wall of the nest, and stabbed a long stick into the side of the wall. He started making his way around the whole thing, and paced it so a step was a tick.

Tick, tick, tick.

Phil went all the way around until he found the stick again, and he blinked in surprise. It had taken him approximately 240 ticks. He stared up at the walls. Thankfully, the Crow had stopped building the walls up out of common sense, because the walls weren't quite as tall as the nest was wide.

With this, he confirmed that there were no animals, as impossible as the thought was. He looked down at his chest again.

It was likely he had mistakenly heard it, but in his long years in this world, as alone as he'd been, his mind had never resorted to playing tricks on him.

So then, what had made that noise?

Phil stabbed the stick through the wall of sticks, forcefully adjusting them so that, at last, he had a gap he could use as a bird’s eye view point downwards.

He eyed the ground critically. As if the universe had heard his thoughts, a fierce, sudden wind blew him back from the edge.

Phil looked up at the sky with a grin softening his contemplative face. He could take a hint. He wasn’t planning to actually jump off today anyways.

He was just thinking about it.

Tomorrow, maybe.

But for now, Phil stepped closer to the hole he’d poked and kept the minimal distance from the edge to assure the second step necessary to make the leap.

He waited. The bright, thin clouds above merrily floated their way ever so slowly across the sky. The wind had gone almost as soon as it came, and disappeared as if it were never there.

Phil frowned. That was not natural.

Phil maneuvered around so his back hit the wall of the nest, and his body slid down the rest of the way to the floor.

That had been a dead end, albeit a fun one.

Phil scanned the wide nest, noting the places where the raw meat was laid, and the scattering of soft materials all over the nest. They were, however, most concentrated in the center of the nest, where he had woken.

Phil brought his knees up to his chest, and buried his head into his hands.

There was really only one conclusion to take from all of this.

He opened his eyes and, although he could barely see anything in his position, concentrated on his chest again.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

He closed his eyes again.

He reached inside himself and poked… something. He was pretty sure it was something, because his head conjured an annoyed, ruffled little black bird flapping its wing at him in a half-hearted attempt to shoo him away.

He did it again and the bird flapped its wing with a little more energy.

Phil, obviously, couldn’t stop doing
what he had discovered now.

He continued doing what equated to poking a small animal with a stick, gradually using his index finger in a moment of absolutely unbridled curiosity that didn’t stop.

If you counted the small animal as a Crow that was gradually growing larger in its presence in his… body.

His head?

Phil had no idea where the Crow went when he woke up. He had found his answer in the space formed in his mind, but he reasoned to himself it was fine.

Phil paused. He wasn’t fooling anyone, he just wanted to finally know the creature that took over at night. It was still relatively close to dawn, so the creature couldn’t be too deep asleep yet.

It would be fine, it wasn’t like he could die from the Crow’s attempt at mangling him for this.

Eventually, Phil got tired of poking the bird in his head, but he hadn’t gotten a proper reply back.

He was testing the limits of the Crow's patience with the other inhabitant of its body, but it was now or never.

It did, in fact, work, as Phil discovered. He blinked, and suddenly he was flat on his back. His eyes shot open again, but the black in front of him remained.

He squeezed his eyes shut, and brought his eyes up to rub them. They felt normal.

Keeping his eyes shut, he bent his arms and pushed himself up, feeling around for anything.

There were no feathers. There were no sticks lying around. There were no wool. There was nothing remotely like the nest from where he could reach.

His hands felt a cold and smooth floor with no gaps.

It was disconcerting.

He opened his eyes again out of a misplaced flicker of hope, and closed them, disappointed.

He felt around, and then stood up. Huh. This space had a floor, but it didn’t have a visible ceiling.

He paused. There had been something different that attempt to see anything.

Phil opened his eyes again cautiously, and he saw it this time. There were shades of gray now, but it was concentrated to an area.

Human.

The boom of a shadowed voice sounded in the space, echoing off unseen walls. Phil looked up, eyes widening in a startled daze.

There was a Being in the space with him, and its shape was indistinguishable in the dark. It loomed over him, and Phil somehow knew this Creature was powerful. The feeling was in the tall stance and the confidence in its tone as it called out to him.

Phil pressed his hands on the cool floor, and pushed himself into standing. Somehow, the added height helped him identify the silhouette of the Creature’s wings. They occasionally moved, catching the flash of dim light.

You.

The voice boomed again, a bit harsher in the one word. Phil’s body jolted, and he glanced up.

This time, there were a pair of piercing blue eyes staring down at him back. It was the Creature, and yet the only feeling he could muster up was caution.

Phil knew this Creature. It took over his body and transformed it as it pleased to fly freely through the night sky, and always dropped him back into its nest each dawn.

He took a step forward. The eyes tilted to one side, and he briefly made out the outline of a sharp beak before the Creature stilled once again.

Phil stared into those blue eyes so familiar to his own, and the wings shuffled again. Phil blinked, and then it became apparent the Creature was waiting for an answer.

“Ah, hello? You are the other being using this body?” Phil tried. It was a safe response, and there was no way to judge how much power the Creature had here.

They were just two strangers trapped in the same body.

I am the Creature.

The voice seemed to roll through Phil’s body, and he squeezed his eyes shut to wait for the rumble to pass. He opened his eyes, and the piercing blue eyes were still there.

The Creature didn’t move its gaze from Phil’s face, and it said nothing else.

It considered itself an authority figure, then. He’d act accordingly.

“Hello, creature. Ah, no, the Creature. Do you, ah, have a preference for what I refer to you as?” Phil winced, but hoped the apology would sooth the Creature’s feathers for now. There was a certain weight he had to place on the Name, and it had been a long time since he had encountered such a Being.

You may call me Crow.

Phil nodded his head in silent acquiescence, and tested the name on his lips in wordless practice. The Crow seemed to be fairly accepting of small mistakes, but had not let up on the dominant, biting aura.

“Well, Crow, my name is Philza Minecraft,” Phil offered, keeping his hands firmly at his side. Until he could tell how equal of a platform they had, he would treat the Creature as respectfully as he did a good ruler.

He should go see Eret, soon.

Phil filed the stray thought away, and looked at the Crow’s wings again.

———
Philza Minecraft.

The Crow’s eyes burned into his own, and it felt as if It could see Phil in his entirety for an instant before the blue eyes disappeared.

Phil blinked, and the blue eyes were still gone. He cupped a hand over his eyes, futile though it was to stretch his limited vision, and a sharp beak’s outline flashes through his sight again.

What a unique name that sounds so very old.

Phil dug his nails into his hand, and the sharp jolt of pain confirmed the sound of amused clicks was not imagined. He looked up at where the blue eyes were before, and orange blurred out of his view before he registered it was the Crow’s beak.

That’s.. interesting. Tell me, Philza Minecraft, what have you done to make your name so familiar to me?

Phil was almost reluctant in his response, but he pushed through his hesitancy and suspicions. It sounded as if the Crow had not expected his name to be known well enough to get to this Creature.

An old Being, then, that was out of the loop. Phil could work with this.

“Well, I’m most known for surviving in the harshest world possible with one life to live, if that’s what you’re referring to,” Phil said, pausing briefly as he thought about how much detail he should add. “For about five years.”

The Crow, who had seemed to draw breath to comment on his grand accomplishment, sharply choked it off instead. Phil looked up, and nothing stood out to him but the Creature’s piercing gaze.

You. You, mortal, survived in that world for five years?

Phil inclined his head, and then realized the Crow could not have possibly seen his nod acknowledgment. “Yep, that was me.”

The Crow shifted its wings, and a flash of light lit them up. For a few seconds, Phil was able to bask in the sight of those midnight blue wings, before the light retreated from the Crow’s fierce gaze

Your tone holds nothing but truth, and yet your words drip with lies. How dare you insinuate you did something like that?

Phil jolted, and stared up at the Crow, with its startlingly icy eyes. That had been the last reaction he had expected. “Mate, what? Why would I lie about that?”

There was a sharp scoff, but it came out as a harsh caw through the Crow’s beak.

Mortals tend to like embellishing their own deeds at a whim, and I have never heard of this feat. You have guts, I’ll give you that.

Phil idly thought, staring up at the black Creature, his neck was starting to ache from the angle. His body was starting to tense, but his hands were trembling with the urge to hold his bow.

“It’s fine if you pity me for being a mortal, but I did survive for five years in a hardcore world. By myself.”

It was a little insulting that Phil had felt the need to add the last part. Just a little bit.

Hm. Unfortunately, that’s not what brought your name to my attention.

Phil bristled at the dismissive tone. The clear lack of respect for an achievement he held dear to his heart was hurtful, but the Creature was an elder Being.

The Crow seemed almost archaic in its speech and mannerisms, and an old Creature it might be, but it had only been a week since it had awoken.

Phil took a breath. There was no reason to get so heated from a few words.

“Well, believe it or not, I survived by myself for five years. I’ve done other things, but that’s what I’m most known for.”

He left it at that.

Hm.

He looked past the Crow, and a few rays of sunlight were starting to break in to the strange space he was in.

Again, the rays danced across the black void, making flashes of midnight blue appear around the Crow’s head.

The Creature, with its confirmation, had shown hints of massive wings tucked behind it, and Phil wanted to see them.

Well.

The polite approach had mostly worked so far. “Crow, may I see your wings?”

The Crow’s eyes narrowed, but Phil didn’t sense cold rejection. He waited.

The Creature kept looking at him for a while, and Phil had no way of telling how long in this seemingly timeless space. Phil tilted his head to the side, seeing flashes of feathers falling free from an unseen wing.

As he kept quiet, waiting, his eyes trace the outline of shimmering plumage near the piercing blue eyes of the Crow.

After a breath, the Crow tilted its head, voice curling with a hint of mocking.

What happened to the stubborn man who keeps running away from my home?

He couldn’t stop his body from locking up, trembling. Phil stared up at the Crow’s eerily bright yet cold eyes, teeth clenched. He tightened his fists once, before relaxing.

“What do you mean? That’s me, and I’m still here,” Phil managed to get out. For a moment, all he could see was fire, and then he came back to this empty space.

Why are you speaking with such deference to the one you’ve run away from all this time?

It was definitely amused now, rustling feathers until he heard a quiet thump on the ground. The piercing blue eyes were closer to him than ever before.

You survived five years all alone and now you can’t face me properly?

The mocking tone the Crow adopted, as if talking to a child throwing a tantrum, was what did it.

Not the belittling of his skills, the arrogant attitude, or the lofty position the Crow had seemed to assert over him.

Those had poked at his pride, but this was a spear thrust into his chest.

Phil looked up at the Crow’s piercing blue eyes, softened in the light. “You were just something the night forced out of me. I wasn’t aware there was a possibility of communication until now, and it’s as if you never tried to reach out before this, hm?”

Those icy eyes flashed in an emotion, and the Crow’s head dipped lower, ever closer to Phil. He kept going, staring at the Creature. “Those are my accomplishments, and frankly, if you haven’t been present long enough to fact-check, I don’t think you have any right to judge how true my words are.”

Another glimmer of blue, and then he was suddenly aware of the Crow’s broad wings tucked on its back. The feathers were a deep shade of midnight blue, and light seemed to glance off of the Creature’s whole body.

Phil was mildly surprised he could now see the Crow’s entire body, and felt he had made his point.

He was done being nice to a stranger in his own body.

So you do have a will. A patient one, even.

Phil exhaled, bringing a hand to his face. “I was trying to be a gracious host, but it appears you don’t want that.”

It was acknowledged.

He sighed as the Crow’s amused voice rolled over him, and glanced up at the sound of ruffled wings.

“So, now that you’ve revealed yourself, can I see just how wide your wings are?”

A series of croaks echoed into the space, and Phil waited for it to pass. It sounded like the Crow found the question funny, for some reason.

Revealed? Human, you just needed to fix your perspective.

“Cool, you know more than this mortal, I get it. Mate, will you show me or not?” This was starting to turn into a strangely familiar interaction, and Phil wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Are you ready?

The booming sound of a wild caw drove away Phil’s reply, dying in his throat.

Instead, he watched as the sunlight, already taking over half of the sky in the space, suddenly bounced everywhere as the Crow lifted its wings.

Phil’s eyes widened as the dark blue wings spread to encompass the space, and then the bright light turned a blinding white.

The voice curled in pride, and that was the last thing Phil registered.

This is my full form.