Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was one moment that Oliver was standing on the coast of the beach, ankle deep in the crystal blue water, and it was the next moment everything changed.

Something brushed his fingers, grabbing his hand gently. He looked to the side, holding the hand of a …person? A girl, though he couldn’t see her face through her hair; thoroughly obscuring any glimpse as it blew forward in the wind. Then, suddenly,  she turned her head to look at him.

He froze, his blood running cold.

The girl had no face besides a mouth, and it was quite literally split in a grin from ear to ear.

He stumbled back and away, frantically splashing further into the water- except that it wasn’t water anymore.. He hadn’t noticed  it had become a dark, viscous liquid,leaving him restrained and futilely struggling to escape.

He tried to let out a scream, only for all the air to be knocked out of his lungs as the girl lunged  at him, the impact thrusting him deeper into the sludge.

His worries grew, heart racing as he began to feel hands pulling him from under-more of those horrifying grins came into view, all with different features, from strawberry blonde hair to someone with wings similar to his own but in a deep indigo.

Tears began to slip from his eyes as the sludge began to enter his mouth, then his nose. At least he could see less and less of those haunting faces.

In a desperate final attempt at freedom, he reached out a weak hand, his heart pounding in his ears as a hand gripped his back.

Miraculously, he felt himself being pulled upwards, the sludge clinging to his body all the while until he was free  from the grasp of those wretchedly grinning monsters.

Tears stung in his eyes as he began violently coughing up the sludge. He looked up to see his savior, only for a being almost as, if not more, terrifying than those creatures to meet his eyes.

He could do nothing but watch as the tall, masculine figure gave him a bone chilling smile, beckoning him.

“Ollie…” he couldn’t move.

“Ollie...”

The deep, gritty voice was changing, beginning to sound softer.

“Oliver!!”

The boy jolted up in a start, head whirling around and breathing erratic, before immediately calming down as his eyes landed on Joan.

 “You okay champ? Seemed like a bad nightmare you had.”

Oliver blinked, eyes darting around in an attempt to ground himself, to remember he was safe here. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m-I’m fine.”

 Joan gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Alright. Well go ahead and get ready, breakfast is almost finished.” He stood and left the room as Oliver crawled out of bed to take a shower.

The reflection in the mirror as he entered the bathroom was not a welcome sight. He looked as tired as he felt. Hopefully the shower would fix that too. He turned on the water and changed, waiting until it reached a comfortable temperature before he stepped in.

He let the hot water run down his back, across the marks that left him constantly wondering where he belonged. His eyes squeezed shut.

He couldn’t stop thinking of his dream. What was that? Was it true? He knew those with blood like his could at times see parts of the future, but being half human his mind blurred the lines. He could never tell what was only a dream and what wasn’t.

Tired of trying to figure out what he’d dreamt, he shut off the water and got dressed; doing one last check in the mirror of the wing shaped marks on his back. Oliver trudged downstairs to the kitchen and sat next to Joan, thanking him for breakfast like always.

The kitchen was a comfortable size, made for a small family much like the dining table. It felt much larger thanks to the empty chair in between the two. Neither ever addressed how often it sat vacant. After some silence, Joan spoke up. “So, your dream.. was it, you know, a regular dream or something else?”

Oliver shook his head, unsure himself. “Maybe. I don’t know. It was definitely a weird one, but it’s always hard to tell if it’s just a normal dream, or some skewed premonition.” He stabbed into his eggs, frustrated, “Wish I could ask Caelum about it.”

Joan hummed. “Well.. I’m sure it’s going to be fine Ols. Just try not to worry too much. Have a good day, yeah?”

Standing and putting away his plate, Oliver nodded. “I will. Thanks again for breakfast.”

Joan smiled and waved him goodbye.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Oliver walked through town, he took in the morning sights and smells like he always did. A few local shopkeepers greeted him as he passed, as well as some children running past him in a game of tag. He nudged the door to the bakery open with his side, saying hello to Riona at the register as he hung up his things. He pulled on his apron and went to the back to turn everything on for the day.

After a few minutes an older woman, his boss Mrs. Cellus, peeked into the kitchen and wished him good morning.

“Morning hon. We don’t have too many orders today. Though, could you do me a favor sometime before you leave today?”

Oliver set down the mixing bowl in his hands to face her. “Yeah, what is it?”

“I do need for you to run to the East End for some ingredients during lunch. My old legs can’t make it, and well, you know how Riona is.” She chuckled. She noticed how Oliver tensed at the request to go into the East end, and did her best to lighten the mood.

Oliver unclenched his hands, dropping his shoulders.

“It’s alright Mrs. Cellus, I can go get them.” He gave her a small smile, and she placed a list on the counter before leaving the doorway, satisfied.

Since there was no rush to get them, Oliver calmed his nerves by doing his usual, baking new treats to sell for the town. After a few hours of baking and making some deliveries, his lunch break was on. Retrieving the list from Mrs. Cellus and stepping out of the bakery alone gave him a pit in his stomach.

Oliver never quite enjoyed going down to the East side of town. He felt strangely unsafe there, the dingey buildings giving him a sense of unease. There were stores and booths lining the sides of the street along with stores made of old houses. People milled about, some glancing at him, as his cleaner appearance and nervous posture made it clear this was not a place he frequented.

Though Oliver was glad to help the bakery, he regretted volunteering to help before he knew what was being asked. Hopefully, this would be a quick trip.

He searched the signs on the buildings until he found the name Mrs. Cellus had given him. It didn’t look any more pleasant than the other buildings and vendors around it.

He walked into the store, cringing slightly as a bell above the door jingled and announced his entrance. He glanced around at the shelves and then the list in his hands, which contained the store name and ingredients. 

A woman approached the counter from a back room, crying out a slightly dramatic welcome to the boy, who returned the greeting with a weak and nervous smile. He milled the poorly organized tables of ingredients, examining them and picking up any he found that were on the list. He didn’t recognize a lot of the other products. He could only assume what were herbs hung on the wall, books on a nearby shelf with names he couldn’t pronounce, and other strange ingredients covered the tables. He really hoped that jar to his left wasn’t actually bones. Even if they weren’t, it sparked him to move a bit faster. Relieved to find everything in this one shop and not needing to go to another store, he walked up to the counter and set down what he had in his arms.

He dug the money out of his pocket as the lady at the counter examined what he had and decided the price. She took the money and gave him a small bag with the ingredients in it.

The woman paused and eyed the boy and reached out, grabbing him by his wrist.

Oliver yelped and tried to pull his hand away, confused and scared by the sudden movement. She grinned.

“You’re destined for many big things, boy. But-...” Her smile dropped, replaced by an expression of shock and sadness. “There is much darkness ahead of you. Be careful in your choices. They may cost you..”

Oliver stood frozen for only a moment until he realized she had let go, turning and rushing back to the bakery. He handed in the ingredients and quickly excused himself from work, wanting some time alone. The hike through town to his destination was much quieter compared to that morning. That was fine with him. He didn’t feel like talking. He stepped into the forest at the edge of town, hiking down the trail he knew so well to his favorite hiding place near the lake. He stepped off the trail, finding the lake without much thought to his steps. He was too distracted thinking about what the lady told him.

He laid under the tree he so loved, sighing and taking a drink from his water. The encounter drained him more than he realized, because he soon found himself falling asleep.

He opened his eyes.

Oliver stood on the same beach again. Great, here again. What would happen this time, he wondered. He looked around but saw no one. But… he was sure he’d heard someone.

He followed the noise of shouting over a sandy hill, and saw the girl with red hair again. She was staring at the ground, her image trembling and whispering. He took a nervous step forward.

“Hey, um.. are you okay?”

“Why did you leave us? You left me alone.”

Oliver furrowed his brows in confusion. “I don’t… who are you?”

“You betrayed us!” When she turned around, it was his father. His actual father. He shook his head.

“Dad? I-I don’t understand. What’s happening?”

Caelum grabbed his shirt. “You will never be like us Cadoc.”

Before Oliver could answer Caelum was gone, and once again he was alone.

Oliver jolted awake. If his last dream was confusing, this one was more so. Who was Cadoc? ‘Like us’? He’d never heard of any Guardian named Cadoc.

He climbed to his feet with a grumble about never being able to have a normal dream, and started his way home before it got dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ollie let out another deep sigh as he stared at himself in the mirror. He sat back onto his bed, stretching out his wings and giving them a chance to breathe after being hidden as marks on his back. Until he heard a knock.

“Ollie, champ, dinner’s ready.”

Ollie’s nose crinkled as he grimaced. The harsh memories from the day had completely spoiled his appetite.

He sat up to answer, feeling queasy.

“I-...” his voice caught, and he sounded like he was about to cry. Well, he almost was, but he tried again.

“I’m not hungry.” He almost cringed at his voice.

There was a small sigh as Joan heard him. “Can I come in?”

Oliver thought for a moment before conceding. He stood up slowly, walking up to the door and opening it a crack, only enough to see half of Joan’s face and vise versa. Joan deadpanned at him, causing Oliver to let out a small laugh as he opened the door the rest of the way.

His father gestured to the bed, and while Oliver knew what was coming, he really wasn’t prepared to talk out his current thoughts, but he knew he had to.

So, they both sat down on the plush bed, legs both hanging off the edge of the surface. “So, what’s wrong?” blunt as always.

Oliver folded in his wings, took in a deep breath as he stared in front of him, trying to keep his emotions in check, and began to talk.

He was walking in town that day, having been making his way back from the bakery when he saw a group of children running along the plaza street. He looked around to see where they came from, seeing a boy doing something to some plants- clearly magic, the markings on his hands making it certain. He almost choked at the sight, and the ‘more well off’ people in the area didn’t seem to be happy with the presence of the child either.

A seemingly more normal woman ran up to the boy, pulling him up as he pouted. She frowned, bringing her mouth closer to his ear, and beginning to whisper as she shoved a pair of gloves into his hands.

 Oliver knew exactly what she was saying in a sense- a demand to hide the marks on his hands. Such a display of magic, even the sight of unnatural marks set them apart from all the normal people that could simply blend into society. Ollie had that exact same talk, except it was with his mother, and not exactly pleasant.

By the end of the rant, Joan sighed as he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees.

“You know what?”

The boy looked at him, curious as to what Joan was about to say.

“You don’t deserve to have to think about all of that. You deserve so many more happy memories, and the confidence to be yourself. But life doesn’t happen to always work that way. Sometimes others tear you down, physically, and mentally. And your mom is.. sometimes one of them.”

The man took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “It takes forever to recover from the hurt we are given. And I’m here to help you heal, okay?” Joan leaned towards him, pulling him into a hug, arms wrapping around him and pulling his stepson’s head into his chest. “Just get it out...” he mumbled, gently kissing the top of his head.

Oliver breathed shakily, thanking him. “When you’re done stretching out your wings, come on down and we can have a good night.”

 Once he had calmed down, he morphed his wings back to the easier-to-manage markings on his back, and they went downstairs to eat and watch a movie.

He tried to ignore the feelings of being watched or someone whispering his name.

Chapter Text

Wednesdays were shopping days; that's what Suri knew. Atlas had always told her that Sage claimed it was because they could get okay food cheaper that way; the products from Monday were not yet spoiled but not completely fresh, meaning it was easier to bargain a sale. Suri knew that because it was ingrained into her every week, filled with the same explanation.

She knew it was Wednesday.

She knew she had been swept away by a string of events and was now completely alone, which was cause for concern. And, of course, when a child is newly alone and worried, they cry. Suri was no exception to that, tears welling in her eyes as she searched for her sister’s fiery red hair. There was none. Letting the tears slip, she ran to the nearest building and wailed her way through the door.

 Oliver had hardly been in the bakery for ten minutes when a child's crying filled the front room. He stopped what he was doing, set down the dough in his hands, and wiped his hands over the front of his apron. He wasted little time slipping out from the employee's only door to find the source of the sound.

 A small, blonde girl had run into the bakery by herself and was crying, clearly panicked by something.

 He stepped around the counter, making sure the child knew he was there and approaching. He kneeled some distance away and spoke gently. "Hey, hey... What are all those tears for, hm? What's wrong?"

Suri's lip trembled, her vision blobs of color. So maybe it wasn't totally impossible for her to mistake the blob in the little shop for Atlas (even though her brother would definitely not work in a bakery). Feet padding the ground as she approached, she leaned into the one solace she had found since her sudden separation. She sniffled, taking a deep breath right after. He smelled like sourdough and sweets, warm and cozy. "Bubba." She whimpered, little hands reaching to ball up any fabric she could grab in her hands.

Oliver jolted slightly at the contact, surprised. "What.." It took him a moment to process what she said to determine why she was so upset. "Oh. Did you get separated from your brother? Do you need me to help you find him?" He pushed some blonde hair from her face, wiping her tears with the bottom corner of his apron. "Don't worry, it'll be okay. How about I give you a snack, and then we can find your brother, yeah?"

With a still trembling lip and now tear-stained face, Suri nodded. He was nice enough that the 'don't talk to strangers' rule didn't seem to matter to her right now. "Pl-please." She mumbled, not minding much as he wiped the tears off her face with his apron, its texture distracting her for at least a few moments. "Thanks, mister." She answered after a moment of soothing from this stranger, the smells of the bakery helping settle her.

Oliver smiled and nodded, holding out his hand until she placed her smaller hand in his. Then he returned to his feet and led her to the display counter with ready-to-serve treats. "Here, this will make you feel a little better. You can pick any that you like."

Suri gripped his hand in a death grip, mentally declaring that she would rather die than be separated from her new companion. Following the much taller boy to the display, she marveled at the array of treats. She absently sniffled once again, reaching to point to a loaf of bread with a lattice pattern. "Can I have that?" she asked quietly, turning to look up at him with pleading eyes.

Oliver smiled and nodded. "I'm going to let go so I can go around and get it, okay?" Suri nodded, blue eyes following his every move. He squeezed her hand gently before letting go and circling the counter.

He opened the sliding door nehind the counter and set the loaf in a napkin. He placed the loaf in her hands. "There you go. I hope you like it; you'll be the first to try them. Now, let's go find your brother." Once the loaf was in her hands, beautiful and just a little too big, her nervous aura melted away in place of adoration for the pastry. "Thank you so much, mister. Do you think we'll find him? And sissy too?"

Oliver hummed, pretending to think about it. "Well, if we look around the last place you saw them, I think so. Besides, I'm sure they're looking for you too. If you tell me what they look like, I can help you look while we walk." He hung his apron on the wall and flipped a sign to say 'on a break' before stepping outside the bakery with her. "I'm sure they haven't gone far. Where was the last place you saw them?"

Suri pointed down the sidewalk. "That way. They were looking at snacks."

Oliver nodded, mentally listing the places that could be. "Okay. We'll walk that way. You keep an eye across the street in case they moved, and I'll watch in front of us." They walked down the sidewalk hand in hand, dodging the bustle of people on their way to school or work. No wonder she had been separated, he thought.

Occasionally, Suri would point at something in a shop window, and he would agree or add a comment when necessary.

Suddenly Suri gasped and pointed across the street some way ahead of them. "There!! I see brother and sissy!" She bounced and tugged on Oliver's hand. He calmed her enough to help her cross the street safely. Suri called out to them, and their worried expressions shifted. They turned toward her voice and rushed to meet them. The brother pulled her away a little harshly, hugging her. "How many times are you gonna wander off before you learn?" He sighed, handing her away to the older sister. He eyed Oliver warily, who suddenly felt nervous under his gaze.

"My name's Oliver. I, uh, I work at the bakery. She came inside crying so.. I offered to help her." After a moment of silence, Atlas nodded and turned as if he was about to walk away. The sister grabbed the collar of his shirt and spun him again, adding a kick to his shin. He grunted but seemed to get the message. "Thanks. For bringing our sister back. This is Sage; I'm Atlas. My little sister is Suri. Let us know if uh... we can thank you, I guess."

Oliver smiled, half amused. "It's no problem. Feel free to get some food at the bakery any time. We have some nice prices, I think. Oh, and..." He turned his eyes to Suri and smiled, pretending to whisper. "Since I work there, I get the leftovers after shift, so there's plenty of things left that need to be eaten."

Suri gasped, tugging at her sister's arm. "Can we? Can we please?"

Sage tapped her chin as if thinking, then gave her a small smile and nodded. She looked up at Oliver, gave him a slight nod of thank you, and waved goodbye as the three turned and left.

Oliver stood on the sidewalk until they vanished into the crowd. Sage was eerily familiar. There's no way she was the faceless girl in his dreams, right? Because then that would mean that the dreams were, in fact, some kind of premonition. He was afraid of what that would mean. Her words from the dream echoed in his brain when he was back in the bakery, left with his thoughts. He kept having these dreams lately. Sometimes, the faceless redhead, his dad, or the silhouette of the person with dark wings.

The lack of sleep from trying to avoid the nightmares- premonitions, or whatever they could be called- felt like it was catching up. Sometimes, he could swear a shadow would dart out of view as he turned to look, or someone would be calling his name.

Oliver walked into the home that night with a sigh. He hadn't focused at all.

 Joan looked up from where he was on the couch, reading. "Hey Ols. How was your day?"

Dropping his bag, Oliver dropped onto the couch, face first, earning a chuckle from his stepfather.

"That bad?"

Oliver rolled over, looking up at Joan. "The girl that's been in my dreams… I met her today."

Joan sat up, fully attentive now, and closed his book. "You did? Was she… like how you dream of her?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not at all. She didn't say a word. Her little sister ran into the bakery, got separated. But she was.. nice."

Joan rested a hand on Oliver's arm. "Well... maybe you were right about your dreams getting jumbled and weird. Either way, I can see it's been a long day. Why don't we make something easy tonight? Spaghetti?" he suggested, catching Oliver's interest.

Spaghetti nights were always Oliver's favorites, especially when Joan asked him to help make meatballs. The best part of the experience was when Joan wasn't paying attention, like when he was stirring the pot of spaghetti noodles, Oliver would sometimes throw more meat into Joan's bowl just to watch him groan about how the ground meat felt slimy. He'd snicker sometimes, yet Joan never caught on, or maybe he did and just never yelled at him about it. Though, after all the fun and teasing Joan, he was glad to have this bit of harmless fun and then have some of the best spaghetti he could get in town.

As they plated dinner, they chatted idly about whatever came to mind. Oliver paused. He felt eyes boring into his back, sending a shiver through his body. He felt cold. He looked over his shoulder to see…

Nothing.

The sensation of being watched was gone now. Maybe his dreams had just made him nervous.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and turn around. "You alright champ?"

Oliver nodded, glancing behind him one more time. "I just thought... I'm… yeah, I'm good." He blinked and turned his attention back to dinner. "You know… I had a really strange delivery today."

"Oh really? Why's that?"

"I'm not sure. I just got this strange feeling. I was delivering some rolls by the Dead Circle. Some picnic, I think. One of the girls there just kept watching me. Never said anything though." He shrugged.

Joan smiled. "Maybe she's been a customer. Maybe she likes you?" He nudged him, receiving a small backhand to his arm.

"Whatever."

Joan tapped the table to keep Oliver's attention. "Nasty sounding place, the Dead Circle. I heard rumors that some crazy accident happened there about thirty years ago. Rumors or not, though, just for your safety, I would steer clear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver sat leaning against the counter, chatting with his coworker at the register. It was lunchtime, so it was just the two of them and Mrs. Cellus. He reached over the counter to grab a cinnamon roll before Mrs. Cellus slapped his hand away. "Not until you finished your lunch." He blinked and looked at her, then his plate. He'd left a few carrots.

"Really?" Oliver huffed.

 Mrs. Cellus gave him a look, and he relented, stuffing the last couple in his mouth before grabbing the cinnamon roll.

Mrs. Cellus enjoyed having people to cook for, so sometimes, she would bring some lunch for them. This also came with her being much more motherly about their eating habits.

His coworker laughed at him until he reached for her drink and pretended to drink it.

A knock on the glass window caused them to look up and lean out of the breakroom to check. He stood when he saw who was at the door.

Sage, Atlas, and Suri were at the glass. Or, more accurately, Suri was staring into the bakery while the other two tried to usher her to keep walking.

Oliver laughed when Suri waved excitedly, and he walked over to open the door.

"Someone's back for some snacks, I see." He smiled and looked up at the two. "You guys can come in and grab something if you want. We have plenty leftover."

Atlas stopped trying to pull Suri from the window and looked at Sage. "You want to?" he asked. Sage shrugged with a smile, and shooed Atlas through the door.

Oliver stepped back to let them inside. "You can pick whatever you want." He closed the door behind them, his gaze never leaving Sage. He wondered what it was about her that would be so important, why she appeared in his dreams before they even met. That had never really happened. Most of his dreams were nonsense or predicted minor things, but never this.

Looking up after choosing what he wanted, Atlas noticed where Oliver's attention was pointed. "Don't look in her eyes; she might steal your soul."

Sage gasped, slapping his arm but unable to hide the grin on her face.

Oliver chuckled at the three as he walked over to give them the snack he promised. "I've never seen you guys around the bakery before, are you new around here?"

Sage shook her head, Suri answering for her. "We live on the edge of town! So, we go shopping once a week."

Oliver hummed and nodded, glancing at Sage again. She met his eyes before he could turn away, and smiled.

Atlas narrowed his eyes at Oliver, shoving the food into his mouth. As soon as they had all finished, Atlas stood. "Okay, I think we should get back to our errands now. Sage?" She looked up at him from her seat beside Oliver, typing something on her phone before showing it to Atlas. 'Go ahead without me. You know what we get; just finish what's left and come back when you're done.'

Atlas blanched at her, looking at Oliver and then her again. He huffed before grabbing Suri's hand. "Fine, alright. We'll be back soon." He led his little sister out of the bakery and down the street.

Oliver blinked, looking at Sage in confusion. Not that he minded at all, but he wasn't sure why she decided to stay here. He drummed his fingers on the table before being shown another message. ‘It's Suri's birthday soon. I wanted to make her a cake, but I've never made one myself. I was wondering if you could teach me.’

Oliver opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again to answer. "Yeah! Yeah, sure, of course. Would you want me to teach you here or...?"

Sage tapped her chin for a second before asking if either of their houses would be alright. She didn't want to use the bakery's ingredients. Oliver obliged, chatting and having a lovely afternoon. She turned away to dig in her bag, and for a moment, just a fraction of a second, Oliver thought he saw the two of them on that beach. It was gone as soon as she faced him again, handing him a piece of paper with her address and number to trade.

As soon as he finished writing his own and ripped off the bottom half for her to keep, Atlas and Suri walked in with a few grocery bags. "We're back. It's time to get home before it's late anyway." He eyed the paper Oliver handed her, his frown deepening for a moment. Then he looked away and left the store with Sage, who waved goodbye.

            Oliver waved back and stood from his seat. Watching them go, he was snapped from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. Turning around revealed its owner to be Mrs. Cellus with an odd smile. "I know that look." Oliver furrowed his brows, glancing at the window again. "What? What look?" She squeezed his shoulder and hummed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver sat down at the breakfast table the next morning with just a bowl of cereal. Joan was working that day, so breakfast was up to just Oliver. Cereal was all his tired mind could bear to make correctly. The sleep he'd been evading was catching up to him quickly. Sometimes, when he asked his father, Caelum, about the dreams, he quickly changed the subject. Oliver had gathered that he was seeing memories of his father, but not much more than that. Last night was no exception.

Caelum watched him through the bars of a prison cell. Physically he looked the same, but his behavior and eyes said otherwise. Asking about some event Oliver didn't know.

"Did you really mean to..." Oliver muttered, repeating the words from his dream. Mean to do what? What happened, and when had Caelum been at a prison? Was Oliver in the cell, or was Caelum? He couldn't recall Caelum ever mentioning anything like this. With how Caelum spoke, he knew whoever he spoke to very well—or maybe not, if one of them had been in a prison.

Oliver stared at his food, sighing heavily. By the time he left his thoughts, his cereal was soaked and gross. He wasn't as hungry as he thought, anyway. Standing and spilling his drink on the way with a groan, he cleaned his uneaten breakfast. He was glad he was off work today. He was in no state to bake without injuring himself or making the food wrong.

Dropping onto the couch, Oliver allowed his wings to form and stretched out onto his stomach, turning on the TV. As lovely as his wings were, they still had their problems, but not the biggest problem of his not-quite-human nature. As he drifted back into sleep, a knock on the door jolted him up. He pulled his shirt over his head, which he'd removed to stretch his wings.

Upon opening the door, he found Sage, who looked a little unsure until she saw Oliver. She waved, holding up her phone for him to see. 'Hey, sorry for showing up randomly. I stopped at the bakery to see if you were free but they said you were off today. I was hoping we could get started on the cake thing?'

Oliver looked up after reading it and nodded with a smile. "Yeah, sure thing. Come in. Let me know if you need a drink or anything."

Sage stepped in and followed him to the kitchen with her bag of ingredients. Suddenly, he stopped, and Sage barely kept from running into him.

Peeking over his shoulder to see why he had stopped walking, she saw only an empty kitchen. Oliver stared at the table, where an empty glass sat. "I... I swear I put that drink up a minute ago." He shook his head, thinking maybe he just forgot after cleaning the spill. He decided it couldn't hurt to take a small nap later.

Putting it away, his gaze turned to Sage for a moment. She looked around the room, admiring a photo of Oliver and Joan from a few years ago until his voice caught her attention. "Want anything before we get started?" She paused momentarily, then shook her head with a soft smile, approaching the now empty counter space.

Oliver bent down to dig in the cabinets, pulling out two aprons. "Good to stay clean." He turned to grab ingredients from their places.

Sage watched him move, glimpsing something beneath his shirt, but it disappeared under his collar when he shifted again. She turned back to the photos, one of a young Oliver with a different man catching her eye. Sage tapped his shoulder when he set down a carton of eggs.

He looked up, wiping stray flour from his hand. "Yeah?"

Sage pointed to the man in the photo, curious. She regretted asking, however, when she saw his expression drop.

"Oh. I forgot we had that." He walked over to look at the picture closer, chuckling with a bitter feeling in his chest. "That's uh, my actual dad, Caelum. Joan is my stepdad. He's the one in all the family photos. Caelum always dressed like that. Thought it was cool I guess."

Oliver's expression was difficult for Sage to decipher, but it disappeared before she could. He huffed and smiled. "So, where are Atlas and Suri while you're here?" He turned to dig in the drawers.

Sage raised an eyebrow at the not-subtle subject change but indulged him since it was clearly a sensitive topic. 'Atlas is babysitting. Took her to the park.'

After reading the text, Oliver nodded with a slight hum. " That makes sense. So, what kind of cake did you decide to make for her?"

Sage pulled up a photo of the cake she had seen that she wanted to make. A light pink, two-tiered cake with white decorations on it. 'Would this be very difficult?'

Oliver smiled and shook his head. "Not at all. It will just, uh, take a little more time than a single-level cake." He bent down to pull out a second cake pan. "You know how to do the measurements, right?"

He let her carry out the steps herself instead of taking over. It didn't take long for both of them to have some of the drier ingredients smeared on their aprons and across the counter. Oliver laughed with a shrug, saying, "That's just part of the job." He pushed a spilled hill of flour out of the way, leaving it to be cleaned after they finished.

 Sage asked for the restroom partway through mixing, so Oliver stopped where they were to direct her and wait.

Sighing, his thoughts returned to his dreams when his distraction had ceased. Whenever Caelum visited again, he would answer some questions. Something about these recent dreams felt different. More wrong than usual, like it was important. Did Caelum have dreams like this? Had he had dreams about Oliver and Sage?

Sage.

What did she think of him?

At the very least, she liked him enough to get help baking, which gave Oliver some confidence. He liked her, too. But… What would she think if she found out what he was?

A scratching behind him cut his thoughts short. Turning, his breath caught in his throat.

His name had been written out in the spilled flour.

How? He didn't write that, and he never saw Sage writing it. What was going on? He reached out, making a startled noise when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned to meet Sage's worried and confused expression. Her question was clear: what's wrong?

Oliver pointed behind him, trying to steady the nervousness in his voice. "The flour. My name was.. written in.." He faced the counter again while Sage leaned past to look. Nothing was written; the flour spilled and pushed to the side as it had been.

Sage frowned at him, typing something quickly. 'Are you okay? Do you want to do this some other time?'

"No! No, it's... I'm fine. I must have been imagining stuff. I guess I lost more sleep last night than I realized." He rubbed his shoulder, unconsciously running his fingers over the marks.

Sage narrowed her eyes, examining him. Many times in the past, Atlas had made similar comments, but she made sure to send him to bed if she thought he needed it. Deciding it wasn't too bad, she nodded, stepping back to where their bowl was half stirred. 'If you need to talk about anything, I'll listen.' She offered, returning to stir the batter as Oliver had shown her.

Oliver blinked in surprise at her comment. He stood momentarily, processing it before positioning himself beside her to direct her through the rest of the process.

With both levels of the cake now in the oven, Oliver fixed both of them a glass of water and sat down at the table to talk while they waited. He shifted in his seat, back sore. He hadn't gotten long to stretch today, but there was no way he would attempt it with Sage around. She didn't seem quite like the other townsfolk, who would probably label him a freak and send him to the East End, but he wasn't willing to tempt fate right now.

"I guess now is a good time to get to know each other a little more... So, is it just the three of you?"

Sage only shrugged, either not finding the answer necessary or, like him, didn't care to discuss her family.

Maybe that wasn't the best question to start with. He cringed at himself, earning a huff of amusement from her. 'It may as well be. What got you into baking?'

Oliver wasn't sure if that was a yes or no, but he wouldn't press her. "Well.. When I was younger, I would help Joan around the kitchen making food. He let me help sometimes, slowly started letting me make easy things. Like those packs of cookie dough you get from the market. I used to steal bites when he wasn't looking." He laughed at the memory. "I asked him once how you make cookie dough, and it just went from there." He looked at the window, pausing when he swore he saw movement. Nothing else moved, though, so he returned his attention to Sage. "What about you? Do you work anywhere?"

Leaning back, she seemed to think over her answer. It didn't seem like a difficult question until she typed her response: 'Sort of. Our Aunt takes care of providing for us, but I still do odd jobs around my neighborhood. Summers usually make more money. Sometimes Atlas or Suri will bring some money home for one reason or another, but I let them spend that on themselves.' He nodded. Buying a cake would probably cost more than just making one.

Oliver hesitated to ask a question, tapping the table for a moment. "Do you… uh, would... We should hang out again. After the whole cake thing, I mean." Wow, he didn't realize how bad he was at this. "You don't have to, obviously. You're just—I mean." He put his hand on his face and sighed.

Sage put a hand on her mouth to stifle a laugh and patted his shoulder. 'No, I understand. I don't see why not. Suri seems to like you, and I don't have much right now to pay you back for helping, so it'll give me a chance to think of something.'

Oliver relaxed with a small smile and waved his hand in dismissal. "Just having some company is nice enough. Plus, if you really want to pay me back for this we can always use some help in the bakery. Could help you practice for the cake too." He offered, looking toward the oven when he heard the timer finally go off.

They both stood and returned to the counter where they were working. Oliver pulled the two cake pans from the oven and set them aside to cool, turning to Sage. "While they cool, we could make the icing if you brought ingredients. Premade works, too."

Sage smiled and pulled the ingredients from the bottom of the bag she had brought, giving him a thumbs-up. She poured the measurements as directed, taking notes to practice on her own. Mixing the icing was easy enough; the cakes cooled when they finished.

Oliver scooped up some of the icing on his finger and tried it, humming in satisfaction. "Perfect. Cook always tastes their food."

Sage huffed a small laugh and tried some herself, nodding her agreement. She helped turn the cakes over and pull them from their pans, letting Oliver show her how to prep icing bags.

"So, the pink icing is pretty easy. Just spread it evenly around the cake, and I'll show you how to smooth anything out. The white will be harder, but I'm sure you'll learn fast." Oliver handed one of the pink icing bags to her, pushing one of the cakes toward her.

The time spent covering their cakes passed in comfortable silence, Oliver giving soft encouragements or tips every so often. It was difficult to talk while Sage's hands were occupied, though it seemed that yes or no questions might still be possible.

Sage stepped back, admiring their cakes when she finished. Both had turned out nicely so far. She took the white icing from Oliver, watching him closely as he showed her how to make the decorations from the photo. He stepped back and encouraged her to try it, standing close by to guide her just in case. Sage had a decent idea of how to do it but seemed to be having trouble moving the icing evenly.

Oliver gently stepped over, first asking before he placed his hands over hers. "Here, try doing it this way. Maybe it'll be easier." He felt his face flush at the proximity but ignored it to focus on doing the job correctly.

They both looked at their two cakes and nodded, proud of their work. After checking the time, they decided to clean before separating ways for the night.

Sage offered to let him keep some of what she had brought over, which he turned down with a thank you. "Two cakes is plenty," he joked as he walked her to the door. Sage turned to face him at the door, showing him her phone. 'Thank you for helping me today. I'll practice. Maybe I can bring you some at work to try one day.'

Oliver nodded with a content smile. "Sure, no problem. Feel free to message me if you ever need me for any help." He opened his mouth to bid her farewell when he felt her arms wrap around him. He couldn't help the slight flinch as he pictured his first dream of her on the beach, tackled into that black inky ocean. Except this felt different. Her hug was… warm and comforting. He wrapped his arms around her in return before they both pulled away.

Sage waved goodbye as she walked away into the afternoon sunlight, rays bouncing off her hair in a way that seemed to set it alight.

Oliver watched for a minute longer before closing the door and sitting quietly on the couch. He had to be taking this the wrong way, right? They'd only met a few times so far, but something about her drew him in, not to mention her strange appearance in his dreams. The house felt colder somehow, enough for a chill to brush over him and send him grabbing a blanket. He took the chance to stretch out, relax, and wait for Joan to return from work.   

Chapter Text

"Hey Ols, I wanted to give you a heads up before you get home this afternoon, uh.. Caelum told me he would be coming by today. He said he was going to wait until both of us finished work. Just wanted to let you know. Okay.. talk to you soon."

Oliver played the voicemail again, pressing the top of his phone to his forehead with a frustrated sigh. He wanted to ask Caelum about his dreams, but.. now didn't feel like the right time. He was still so tired. Any sleep he got was almost always restless. He felt like he kept seeing or hearing things since these nightmares began.

"Maybe I do need to hurry up and talk to Caelum.." He thought to himself. Either way, it would have to wait; he still had one last order to deliver.

Stepping out of the breakroom, he put up his apron and grabbed the order, bidding farewell to Mrs. Cellus for the day. He would just deliver the order on the way home. He checked the address, groaning when he realized he had to walk toward the East End. He sent a message to Joan about the delivery before making his way there.

The sidewalks weren't too busy this time of day, a few people out for a late lunch or running a quick errand. He waved hello to one of his neighbors that he recognized, gasping as he accidentally bumped into a girl going the other direction. He turned to apologize but only found the empty sidewalk. He swallowed, deciding she must have gone into the nearby shop before continuing on. The street got emptier as he walked, the only other people around were a few children playing a game by a shop window. The house was only a few more minutes' walk. He could do this. Taking a breath, Oliver kept his gaze ahead of him and looked for the correct address.

Maybe it was less that he was afraid of this end of town and more that he was afraid to end up shunned the same way. He wasn't sure himself. What he did know was that it wasn't fair to these people. For the kids to grow up thinking living that way was normal.

Oliver shook his head and huffed. No thinking, he reminded himself. He approached the front door of the address and knocked softly. A man answered after a moment, greeting him warmly and thanking him for the food. He handed Oliver the amount owed (which Mrs. Cellus insisted on keeping as a small bonus). Oliver thanked him in return, pausing at the sight of a feather tattooed on the man's arm as he shut the door. He placed a hand on the back of his shoulder as he walked and took another deep breath. There was nothing wrong with him.

Him, the boy neither human or Guardian. Existing in between. He was perfect as he was. Joan told him that, Caelum agreed. Mrs. Cellus treated him like her own. Sage, Atlas, and Suri liked him. Well, the girls did, at least.

It was fine; he was fine. He was only tired.

The front door felt heavier than usual, the walk home from the delivery an empty blank in his mind. The hunger in his stomach outweighed by the heaviness in his limbs, ready to fall asleep despite his want. He locked the door and trudged up to his room. Even as he had tugged off his shirt to stretch his wings, sleep had already claimed his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beach again. Oliver hated this beach. He couldn't go to one in reality anyway, but now he never wanted to. He closed his eyes and sat down, waiting for whatever nightmare waited this time. As the weeks passed, it became apparent that the beach was never an ordinary dream. What had also become apparent was sitting here wasn’t doing anything. He glanced at the water and frowned.

Oliver climbed to his feet with a deep breath, walking further up the beach. He wouldn't be going near that water for a while. In the distance, he could hear Caelum. Walking closer, he heard the end of what seemed to be a heated conversation.

"What, like you did Siran?"

There was a pause of silence, his face falling as if someone was speaking to him.

"Cadoc, I.."

Another silence, then he turned to walk away.

That name again. Caelum kept saying it, kept speaking to this person. Next time, Oliver decided, he would try and talk to the image of Caelum. Speaking of Caelum…

He was gone. So, the dream should end, right?

So why didn't it?

A distorted voice called him. The same one he heard in past dreams. He turned, and the shaky black silhouette with the terrifying grin stood before him. "Oliver…"  It reached out its hand. It stood and waited despite Oliver's attempts to ignore it. He sighed and climbed to his feet. Maybe getting this over with could give him time to actually rest. Walking toward the silhouette, it became clear that this figure was some strange blend of people he knew. Joan, Sage, Caelum, Suri, Atlas, even Mrs. Cellus. The faces and voices jumped between each other and blended, like overlaying a bunch of black and white films.

Hand still raised and waiting, Oliver reached forward.

It burned.

The figure's hand was so cold, yet Oliver felt like he was burning alive through mere contact with it. It yanked him closer, and Oliver could only gasp. All at once, the voices screamed.

"Monster!!"

The figure disappeared, and Oliver dropped to his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the same moment his knees would have hit the sand, Oliver landed on his bedroom floor, groaning as the breath was knocked from him. It took a moment to register being awake and catch his breath, rolling over and sitting up. He rubbed his head as he climbed to his feet and settled his wings. Turning to check the clock, he groaned, seeing he had slept longer than intended. He freshened up and went downstairs to wait for Joan and the dreaded conversation with Caelum.

Oliver hummed quietly as he moved around the kitchen to make a snack. He was still tired, but that rest he had taken certainly restored some energy despite his dream.

A clanging sound behind him caused him to jump.

Turning sharply, he took in the room. The only thing out of place was one of the hanging pans swinging as if having been pushed, knocking into the other cookware. Had he done that? He must have. It wasn't as if he tried to rein in his abilities at home, he probably just generated some wind thinking about the nightmare. Yeah, that was it. Oliver rubbed his face with a sigh and went to read a book to calm his racing mind.

A few hours later brought Joan through the door, setting down his things and calling his stepson. "Ols, bud, you home?"

"Living room!," Oliver called.

Joan walked in and ruffled Oliver's hair gently, leaning over the couch. "How was your day?"

Oliver shifted to face him, tucking his wings in. "It was fine I guess," he shrugged, "I'm just still tired from those dreams." As if on cue, he yawned, earning an affectionate squeeze on his shoulder.

"Right.. You mentioned that the other morning. Still happening huh? Maybe when Caelum comes by later you can ask him for advice." Joan offered, stepping back to head upstairs and settle in for the afternoon.

A huff from Oliver, "Yeah, that's the plan. If he even knows what I'm talking about." He watched Joan climb the stairs, mind drifting to what he would say.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver sat curled up against Joan's side, both watching some TV until Caelum arrived. The knock at the door startled them both, and Joan removed his arm from around Oliver to answer the door. Some footsteps and the door opening later, he could hear Caelum speaking. With a sigh, Oliver sat up and approached, thoughts spinning. He hadn't seen Caelum properly in a few years now.

Rounding the corner, Caelum stood inside the kitchen, speaking with Joan. There he stood with his blonde hair and confident aura, still wearing the white and gold he always had despite how out of place it seemed. He'd hung the white cloak covering his wings on the coat rack beside the door. Caelum's eyes caught Oliver's, and he smiled, holding up his arms in welcome. "Oliver, my son! It's so good to see you again. You've grown."

Slowly, Oliver walked into the hug, returning it before stepping back. "Yeah, I tend to, uh, do that." He eyed his father, who had not aged as long as Oliver could remember. He glanced at Joan and then at Caelum again. "So… what are you visiting for? It's been like… three years." He rubbed the back of his shoulder, suddenly conscious of the marks and the magic they held which connected him and Caelum. His father's wings shifted, seemingly as uncomfortable as everyone else, their metallic nature glinting under the fluorescent kitchen lights. Oliver was never quite sure how Caelum's wings worked.

Joan glanced between them and sighed, patting Oliver's shoulder and stepping back. "I'll be in the next room, okay? Call if you need me." He turned and walked away to give the two privacy.

Caelum cleared his throat, rubbing the bracer on his arm. "I was long overdue for a visit. Things have been quite busy. Zera always has jobs for us to do. She granted me some time to visit you this afternoon though. So, how have you been?"

Oliver sighed, rubbing his eyes. He still felt tired. The now constant feeling of eyes on him seemed to increase tenfold. He turned to look behind him for a moment, then looked at his father. "I've been having… nightmares. Not normal human ones, this is different. It's people I haven't met and things I don't even know. I saw a girl in my dreams weeks before I even met her."

Caelum raised an eyebrow as he listened. "That is certainly odd. I don't exactly dream when I rest so I can't quite put a finger on what could be happening." He stopped to think before continuing, "I can only assume it's due to my blood. At least the Guardian in you is much alive." He joked, frown falling when it didn't seem to assure his son.

"Well, it has to be, I don't know what else would cause it. Sometimes I… sometimes you're in my dreams too. You, dad, other people.." Oliver dropped into a chair at the kitchen table, resting his forehead in one hand. "And I know it's not real… but they say such horrible things. And I.." he takes a breath, "they keep getting worse. I can't sleep well anymore. Now I keep seeing things when I'm awake, hearing things."

Caelum frowned, slightly hurt by not being referred to as his dad, and sat awkwardly beside him. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder with a sigh. "I'm sorry son. I wish I could do more to help. You know I'm not as experienced with these things as Joan or your mother."

Oliver sighed and rubbed his face. Shaking his head, he dismissed the idea of speaking to either of them any further about the problem. "It-it's fine. It's probably work stress. Besides, it isn't like I've never had these dreams before. It's just happening a lot right now… but seriously, Caelum. What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to see you, you're my son."

"No, you never show up without some other reason."

Caelum sighed and took a minute to respond. "I want to make sure you're upholding your abilities. Having the blood of a Guardian is no small feat. Halflings like yourself are rare, son."

So that was it. Uphold the name, be the prodigy he so desperately wants. Prove to Zera, the mother Guardian, that 'halflings' weren't a disgrace. Whatever that meant. "Then why don't you actually show up and train me? There’s no one else who can do that! You're the only one who knows remotely how it feels to live with these powers, and you won't even be there to show me how to use them." Oliver accused with a frustrated finger aimed at Caelum. "I’m not some trophy. I'm your son. Would you please just treat me like it, for once?" He pleaded. They had this conversation so often, yet there never seemed to be any progress made.

"Oliver, please, that's not true. You are my son and that's all I need you to be. I only want you to be your best. These abilities are dangerous when in the hands of loose emotions. Not just yours. Any Guardian with a child faces this. And I admit. I.. have neglected that. I suppose because you are old enough to manage yourself, but it didn't occur to me Joan can't help you in this regard." Caelum laced his fingers and rested them on the table, studying Oliver. Indeed, he looked tired. He heard a quiet mumble and leaned forward to hear, freezing at the name he heard.

"… Like Cadoc.."

"What did you just say?" Caelum leaned across the table, voice firm and trying to conceal its panic.

Oliver leaned back, startled by the change. "I-I just said 'Cadoc.' You… it was.. a name you call me in my dreams sometimes… why, who is that?"

Caelum stood with no answer and raced toward the door. He pulled the cloak from the hook and wrapped it around himself as he opened the door. "I need to go. There is something I must address." His golden wings spread and launched him up, past the doorframe and out of view.

Oliver sat, stunned, even as Joan walked in at the commotion. "He just left, like that? What was such an emergency?" Joan asked aloud, approaching Oliver. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I just… I don't know.. I feel like.. this is bad." Oliver muttered.

Joan rubbed the tension from Oliver's shoulders, both quiet in thought. "I know you've been having bad dreams bud.. How about, we camp out in the living room tonight? Like we did when you were small. Remember that? You used to be nervous when- "

Oliver huffed a laugh. "When there was a storm, yeah. Maybe.. maybe that'll help. It's worth a try.." He stood up, offering to cook dinner while Joan set up their tent.'

The peace after such a rough day was welcome. They laid in their makeshift beds, watching a movie together and drifting off. There were no nightmares that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sage texted him that next afternoon, asking for his assistance at their house. Apparently, today was Suri's birthday party. He obliged, happy for the distraction, and went to her house after work with a gift. He knocked, the door being opened by Atlas, who sighed. "Oh, you came." He stepped out of the way to allow Oliver in before closing the door a little too hard and walking away. Despite Oliver's efforts, Atlas was still not very fond of him. It was a work in progress, at least.

Oliver followed the sound to join the others, setting Suri's gift on the table and looking for Sage. He found her amidst the small group of children there for the party, trying to wrangle them all to their seats. Joining her, he helped usher a few that he knew from the bakery and received a quiet hum of thanks from Sage. He watched her step to the side and sneak into the kitchen momentarily before returning with a lovely two-tiered pink and white cake. Oliver felt himself grinning, a warm pride in his chest, seeing her hard work turn out so well. The few visits he had made to help her – and try to befriend Atlas- had paid off.

Suri and the other children cheered, bouncing in their seats as Suri screamed, 'My sister made it herself!!' and pointed at the cake. The cake was placed at the head of the table where she sat. Sage carefully lit a candle in the shape of the number 7. All at once, the room began to sing Happy Birthday, Suri blowing out the candles before they could finish the last note.

Atlas appeared next to Oliver, arms crossed and stone-faced. "Sage was so proud when she got the cake right yesterday. Took like two tries." He grimaced at the thought of how much cake he'd had to eat recently, not exactly looking forward to eating more, but he would eat one piece to make her happy. He glanced at Oliver, who was giving him a surprised look. "Even if I don't like it, she really enjoys your company. So does Suri. At the very least… I'm willing to tolerate you. If you make her happy, I won't be the one to prevent that. But" he pointed at Oliver, intimidating despite being a bit shorter, "I'm not stupid. I can see how you look at her. And if you do anything to upset her, I will make sure you pay for it. Same goes for Suri."

Oliver nodded quickly. The brother's protectiveness was startling but, at the same time, admirable. "Yeah, got it. Of course... there was… something I wanted to ask if I could." Atlas raised a brow but made no further effort to look at him, turning back to watch Sage cut pieces of cake. "You can ask. Doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Okay, fair." Oliver chuckled. "I was wondering why Sage doesn't really talk?"

Atlas paused for a moment. "She's just quiet. Doesn't care to talk much unless it's to us when we’re here at home. People she's really close to. I dunno why, she just does." He shrugged.

Oliver nodded in understanding. He hoped one day he would hear her talk to him. A small thank you was given to Atlas before he stepped away from the wall and approached Sage. She smiled at him and offered him a slice of the cake, pride clear on her face. He took a bite and tasted it for a moment.

 Light, sweet, fluffy, not too dry. Wonderful.

He grinned, nodding. "It's amazing. You did a fantastic job." He stayed beside her for most of the party, helping her tend to the kids. Suri loved her presents, particularly excited about the box of cupcakes decorated with butterfly candies that Oliver had given her. So much so that she refused to let anyone else have one, to his amusement.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sage dropped into a chair beside him with a joking huff of exhaustion. 'Well, I think that's everything done.' She looked at the table, still messy from the party.

Oliver pat her knee with a small laugh. "You did good. I can clean things up for a while, take a rest." He stood from his seat, picking up the trash to put away. To his surprise, Atlas approached after a moment to clean as well. He looked at Oliver, studying him for a moment before turning away. It didn't take long to get the room cleaned and put things up in their places. Oliver lingered a while longer, talking with Sage and planning to meet in town in a few days. He trusted her, and he wanted to show her that. After deciding a place to meet and a time, he bid the siblings goodbye, receiving a tight hug from Suri on the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another day in the bakery, another day with little to no sleep. It was becoming hard for Oliver to hide the dark circles and lingering doubts that the voices in his dreams planted. It had never taken this long to get a batch of cookies done. He kept mismeasuring or forgetting what he had already done. Half a bag of flour and at least one wasted batch of cookies later, he had managed to get something in the oven. Last night's 'dream' was one of the worst ones. Filled with insults and fear, his worst insecurities come to life and reflecting off of him like a mirror. Deep down, in his core, he knew. He knew that these fears and negative thoughts weren't true. But it was getting difficult to ignore, those doubts repeating in his sleep every night like a mantra.

You don't belong.

Freak.

They only tolerate you.

They'll think you're crazy.

You deserve this.

Oliver pressed his head against the cabinet, unable to focus. Get it together. There's no good reason to be sent home. Splashing water on his face woke him up enough to return to work and get some things done. Decorate a few pastries, get those loaves of bread ready, tables need cleaning, something is burning..

What?

Oliver whipped around as the smell of smoke registered in his brain. Grey, ugly clouds seeped from the oven vents. He scrambled to pull the door open, coughing and waving his hand. Hard black chunks rested on the pan where the dough used to be. Oliver groaned, debating on saving the pan as he turned on the fans to air out the room. It was rare for him to bake something too long nowadays, let alone to burn something this badly. Well, that was a good sign.

After another batch prepared and a burnt pan in the trash, Oliver took a seat, pulling out a journal he had picked up to write in. Writing the nightmares seemed to help his mind while awake, at the very least. His art skills weren't anything extraordinary, but sometimes, he was able to draw some of the things he saw. That dark silhouette, the distorted image of Sage, the person with multiple faces...

Sometimes, it wasn't people. Sometimes it was images, flashes in his mind like a memory but not quite. Dead grass, screams, a storm, fire. None of it made sense. All of his thoughts muddled together until one pushed through the others.

Sage.

Everything felt at peace when he was with her. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking this was anything but what it was. He knew he loved her, but now wasn't the right time, not when he felt like a walking mess. Maybe he could at least be honest with her at their meeting, let her know he wasn't feeling well.

This time, he pulled the cookies from the oven on time, setting them aside to cool.

Sometimes, it seemed like sitting to process his nightmares helped, and sometimes, it didn't. He couldn't tell Joan. He was worried enough, and besides, there was no helping this. Oliver shook his head with a sigh, deciding to just not think about this until later and focus on work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, he trudged home with an odd feeling of being watched. He had worked late to make up for the wasted ingredients from the day. The sun was finishing its descent in the sky, offering its last few slivers of light for Oliver to see by on his walk home. He was feeling a little better, his coworkers distracting him for a while. He pondered what they would do for dinner that night when he stopped, a movement beside him catching his attention. He turned towards it and froze, his heart dropping into his feet. A shadowed figure stood at the tree line of the forest nearby, wavering like mist and glowing gold eyes boring into Oliver's green ones. A cold chill ran down his spine, knowing this figure was the one from his nightmares even before it whispered his name.

Was this real? Had he fallen asleep? Is this a hallucination?

Oliver stumbled back, voice caught in his throat. The figure only called his name again and beckoned him. Something about the voice was different than the dreams. This voice was gentle and calm. Not the violent and distorted screams like they had been.

This was wrong.

Turning on his heel, Oliver sprinted the rest of the way home. He dismissed Joan's concern with a comment of wanting some exercise and ran to his room to stretch his wings for a few minutes. He needed to go flying again, he decided. It had been a while. He faced himself in the mirror, wings and tired eyes. Rubbing his face, he turned to take a hot shower for a while. That usually helped when he was stressed.

Oliver started the water with shaking hands and let the warm water pour over him, feeling his muscles relax and thoughts slow. He stood quietly for a few minutes longer before shutting off the water and shaking the water from his wings. A quick towel dry, a change of clothes, and he felt much better. Shifting his wings away, he walked downstairs and sat beside Joan on the couch.

"You feeling alright? You seemed shaken when you came in tonight…" Joan asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Today was just.. weird." Oliver grumbled, picking at his shirt.

"I understand. You know you can always take a day off if you don't feel well."

Oliver waved his hand. "No, it's fine. Don't worry."

Joan watched him for a moment. "Alright. If you're sure. You up for making dinner tonight?" he asked with a slight hum.

Shaking his head, Oliver laid down. "I'm not really hungry, feel free to eat without me."

Silence washed over the room as they both turned back to the TV and drifted into their own thoughts. Oliver was sure he wouldn't get much sleep that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally done muddling through work for the day, Oliver walked toward his favorite spot on the edge of town where Sage agreed to meet and hang out. She was waiting for him where the trails started, waving hello as he approached. 'How was your day?'

He smiled and groaned with a small laugh. "Way too long. I'm just glad it's finished. Thanks for meeting me here. I figured this place would be fun to hang out."

Leading her down the trail, they spoke back and forth about what they had been up to since last meeting. Jobs, funny stories, interests, whatever came to mind. It helped to distract from all the strange nightmares for at least a while. Oliver eventually turned off the path, walking in a direction that seemed to be marked in a way only he recognized. It only took a few minutes to reach the point they were headed, but it was clear not many people visited.

A lake surrounded by rocks and trees, one piece of land with a weeping willow jutting out farther over the lake. Not too far from the lake was the edge of a cliff face, dropping into an overview of a more expansive forest and a distant field below.

Sage admired the area as they sat down, looking at Oliver in amazement. 'This is beautiful. Thanks for showing me.'

Oliver nodded, taking his shoes off and rolling up his pants to sit on the edge of a rock and dip his feet in the water. It was chilly but not unpleasant. Good for hot summer days like the ones approaching soon. He turned when he noticed Sage coming to join him, smiling. "I figured you would like it. I like coming out here to think, have some alone time. It's peaceful." He stared into the water, grimacing as flashes of hands reaching out to grab him flashed through his thoughts. He pulled his feet from the lake and settled under the willow tree.

'Are you feeling alright?' Sage asked, crossing her legs to sit by him. 'You're a little quiet today. Work stress?'

Accepting the chance to lie, Oliver nodded. "Yeah, something like that. This is gonna sound weird but.. hanging out with you and your siblings makes me feel better." He turned his head away, worried she would laugh.

Sage blinked, shocked but flattered. With a slight smile she pat his hand. 'Well, I'm glad we can help. Is that why you wanted to meet?'

"No! Well, yes, but… I also just like spending time together, you know? I don't have much to do outside of work usually." Oliver laughed nervously and rubbed his neck. "If Joan is at work I usually stay at home or come out here. Maybe run errands.."

Sage tilted her head. 'Your mom and Caelum don't come by?'

Oliver grimaced and sighed. "Mom does sometimes. She's on business trips and stuff most of the time. Really busy since her promotion. Caelum does a little every few years. Saw him recently, actually."

'Really? How did it go?' At his downcast expression, she placed a hand on his shoulder. 'Need to talk about it?'

A few beats of silence passed as Oliver considered it. He hadn't meant to come out here just so he could vent his problems to her. She offered, though, so maybe it wasn't too much. Maybe getting some things off his chest will help him sleep a little easier. With a sigh, he began to speak.

"It's always the same conversation when he comes over. Wanting me to act a certain way, do certain things to.. I don't even know, uphold the title he's so proud of, I guess. Make him feel like he's doing a good job." Laying down on his back, he turned away. He hated being so emotional about these things. As he spoke, he realized that maybe this issue went deeper than just his strained relationship with his father.

Sage placed her hand on his, encouraging him to keep going, that she was listening.

"Maybe I… maybe its something wrong with me." Oliver sighed.

Frowning, Sage tilted her head. 'What do you mean?'

"I'm never what I need to be.. what I want to be." His eyes darted to look at her for a moment. Maybe it was okay to tell her about what he was. Just a little. "I was born.. different." He felt the courage to open up die on his tongue as his eyes met hers. He was just too afraid to risk losing her.

'People like you just the way you are Ollie. Us, your job, your family..' Sage assured him.

Oliver turned his head again, squeezing his eyes shut. "You don't know my family.." he whispered. "It's not.. I don't know how to fix this. Fix me."

Sage put her hand on his cheek and turned his face to meet hers so he could read what she had typed. 'There is nothing wrong with you, okay? I like you just how you are. Sweet, and funny, and smart.. I hate that you think so badly of yourself Ollie. Because it's not true. You don't need fixing.'

Stunned, Oliver looked between her and the message on the phone. He bit down on his lip, tired of feeling on the verge of tears, and covered his eyes. After a long, shaky breath, he pulled her into a hug that she quickly returned. "Thank you, Sage… that means a lot. I'm sorry for dumping this on you." He laughed softly and pulled back, digging through his bag. "I actually uh, brought you something. To say thank you for everything you've been doing."

Sage opened the small box. Inside, nestled gently on a cloth, sat a silver necklace, a metal feather hanging at the end.

Chapter Text

Oliver sat down at an empty table with a set of articles in hand. The town library was quiet that afternoon, with only a handful of others milling the aisles or reading at tables. Any attempt to contact Caelum had been fruitless, and mentioning the name to Mrs. Cellus caused her only to shush him and send him back to work.

Something was strange, it was clear. Without answers, it was up to him to find them. His first thought was to try the library. If Mrs. Cellus also knew that name, then it wasn't just a Guardian, but someone local. He had never heard the name, so he gathered any news articles eighteen years prior or older. No luck for the first few years until the mention of some massacre caught his eye. The article didn't expand on the event, so Oliver kept moving backward. Until he saw an article from 26 years ago.

He pushed all of the other papers to the side and picked up the article, reading through it. He sighed heavily, finding not even this explained what happened clearly. He narrowed his eyes to skim through the paragraph again. 'After the horrible massacre that occurred at the wedding, all bodies were recovered. The only survivor was the mother of the groom, Cadoc, who has now vanished. In light of these events any further townsfolk with unnatural abilities will be punished if displaying them in public or posing any possible danger to those around them.'

For a moment, he sat still to process the information. So, there was a wedding, and this Cadoc guy was getting married. He pulled out the small notebook he carried to jot down the notes he was taking. Something happened that killed most of the attendees except for Cadoc and his mother. He made a note to see if he could find the mother, then resumed searching through the articles. Maybe he could get more information if he could find a wedding announcement.

A few pages back, he finds what he is looking for. A wedding announcement. A seemingly big deal as well. He writes down the names he sees; 'Siran Graham, daughter to Malthe and Odelia to marry Cadoc Halley, son to Ahmes and Eirian and grandson of…' He stopped.

How? This doesn't make sense. He thought he was the only one who was the child of a Guardian, let alone a...

Hurriedly, Oliver writes down what he's found, then stands and rushes over to the mythology section of the library. He pulls out a book and returns to the table. Flipping through the book, he searches until he finds the list of the Guardians. His eyes scanned the list of names.

Caelum, Guardian of the Winds. Aideen, Guardian of the Flames. Zera, Guardian of Life. Marat, Guardian of…

A glance to the wedding announcement- 'grandson of Marat,' then back to the mythology book- 'Marat, Guardian of Death.'

Oliver took a deep breath to settle his racing thoughts for at least a moment. He had never met Marat, but he knew who it was. What he didn't realize was that Marat had ever had a child.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. Cadoc's mother. The paper said she was the only survivor. Is that because she isn't quite human?

With his mind made up and a plan in motion, Oliver put away all he had gathered in the library and returned home with his notes in hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The air outside was peaceful, with clear skies and green grass. Oliver sat down at the pond area he loved to visit so much. Taking a much-needed flight would help to ease his nerves. He dropped his bag under the willow tree, along with his jacket. He took one last look around the area before stepping toward the cliff's edge. He turned, falling backward. Air swept up past him, wind grabbing at his hair and clothes. What would be a terrifying falling feeling for most was, to him, a comfort unlike anything else.

At the last moment, he flipped to face the ground and let his wings form, opening them and letting them catch the wind. He was pulled upwards by the draft and came to a calm glide above the forest. A soft quiet took over as he cleared his mind to enjoy the moment.

Time passed differently for him when flying. He could be there for hours, and it would only seem like a few minutes. This time, however, he made sure to keep track to get home on time. That night, he saw the shadow in the woods staring at him, which had kept him from working past sunset again.

Landing back at the top of the cliff, Oliver let his wings shift back to the marks covering his back and approached his things. He paused partway through putting on his jacket, frowning. The contents of his bag were dumped out all over the grass under the tree. The wind couldn't have done that, and he hadn't noticed any wild animals around. He knelt down to check his things. Someone hadn't found his things and tried to steal, he hoped. Everything seemed to be there, to his relief. He threw around one last glance before putting everything back in his bag and rushing home.

Despite the strange event with his belongings, that was not the subject on his mind as he trudged back through the forest to town. Instead, it was Sage. When he wasn't worried about his dreams or working, Sage filled his thoughts. She and her siblings had filled that gap in his life that had lingered for so long. Different to him, compared to others. Sage understood him so well already in a way he couldn't express with words.

Oliver took a deep breath, stepped back onto the sidewalk, and continued his trek home as he made his decision. Next time they spent time together by the pond, he would tell her. He would trust her with this secret. Something he had never trusted anyone but his family with. The certainty settled in his gut, heavy with the fear of what she might think. Yet, at the same time, the idea of revealing this part of himself lifted a weight from his shoulders that had made its home there for years.

Approaching the front door, Oliver took one last look behind him before stepping inside. To his surprise, Joan sat at the kitchen table, flipping through a book. At the sound of the door, he looked up to meet Oliver's eyes.

"Oh! Hey Ols, you're home early." he greeted, setting the book aside.

"Good. Pretty calm today. Atlas and Suri stopped by the bakery for a few minutes."

Joan smiled, "That's nice of them. I'm glad you had a good day. What do you want for dinner tonight?"

A beat of silence passed before Oliver smiled, mischief evident in his eyes. "Tacos."

"Aw, tacos? But that's so much meat." He groaned and shivered at the thought of the texture.

Oliver shook his head with a laugh. "I can manage that part if you'll do the rest." He knew that compared to baking, his strong suit had never been with cooking. But Joan was there to help if he needed it.

As they both prepared dinner, making occasional comments to each other, Oliver's thoughts drifted back to what he had found that day in the library.

This Cadoc was the grandson of the Guardian of Death, so technically, Cadoc would be something like a cousin, he supposed. Cadoc was getting married, but something happened. Almost everyone attending was killed, and then Cadoc vanished.

Caelum had to know something. He wouldn't have had such an extreme reaction to the name if not. Speaking to him would probably yield very little.

His only option was to try to locate Cadoc's mother, the only survivor. But that would be a quest for later.

Returning to the task at hand, Oliver turned off the stove as the meat finished cooking. Glancing over, he saw that Joan had finished preparing the shells and toppings. He grinned, stepping over and patting Joan's hand, "Looks good."

Joan gasped and yanked his hand away. "Aw, gross.." He huffed a small laugh and wiped his hand on Oliver's face. "Go wash your hands and get some plates already."

"Yeah, yeah," Oliver hummed. He did as Joan asked and helped him set up dinner, appreciating the distraction from the day's events. After eating, Oliver excused himself to go to bed upstairs. He pulled off his shirt and let his wings form as he lay down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't the beach. But it wasn't a regular dream either.

Oliver could feel it in his gut; these dreams were different. He took a deep breath and looked around to see where he was.

A party.

Other figures were at the tables, but they were all blurry, as if looking at them underwater. He turned again to see Sage sitting next to him. A voice calls his name, and he looks up to find Atlas standing up, staring at him. He can't make out the words, but they're filled with malice. Shock steals the words from his tongue. More and more voices pile on top of Atlas. Oliver closes his eyes and slaps his hands over his ears, the noise piercing and painful.

Suddenly, all the noise stopped, and the only sound left was Oliver's erratic heartbeat pounding in his ears. Slowly, he tears his eyes open. His pulse suddenly became muffled in his ears at the horror he saw. Bodies litter the room, lying on the floor and slumping over the tables. Sage stared up at him with empty eyes, sending Oliver tumbling from his chair to the hard floor. His breath came out in heavy gasps, eyes darting around the room.

"It wasn't fair."

The voice behind him startled a yelp from Oliver, whipping his head around to face the source. The black shadow with the glowing eyes stared down at him. But the angry, terrifying aura wasn't there. Instead, there was only a heavy grief, sadness lacing its words.

"They hated me for wanting to be happy." It continued. The longer it spoke, the more its form began to shake, and its voice got angrier and more distorted. "I can't help what I am. I just wanted peace. What did I do to them? They think I'm a monster because I'm different? That's not fair!"

Oliver scrambled backward, staring up at the figure. Suddenly, it clicked in his mind. A party. Deaths. This shadow.

With a shaking breath, he spoke the question in his mind.

"Are you… Cadoc?"

The shadow seemed to calm down at the name, turning its attention from somewhere in the distance to focus on Oliver. "Oliver…" it whispered.

The answer didn't seem to confirm anything, but Oliver knew no other alternative for what these dreams could be. The shadow kept talking before he could speak again.

"I know how you feel… You don't belong there. Stay with me…" The shadow held out its hand, "I'll be waiting."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver gasped awake, rays of the morning sun blinding him. He gathered his bearings and sat up, rubbing his face. He ran a hand through his messy locks as he untangled himself from the bed sheets. Smoothing his feathers as his wings shifted away, he pulled on a shirt and trudged downstairs for breakfast.

On the table sat a note from Joan, letting him know some pancakes were in the microwave. With a soft smile, Oliver walked over to reheat them. His mind wandered away to what he had dreamt of again. It seemed different. He was able to directly speak to someone in his dream this time, or at least it felt that way. The dream reflected what he had learned in the library. And if that indeed was Cadoc he was speaking to, it would only make sense for him to appear. Maybe he could try to talk to him again. Try to find out where he is. Oliver frowned, an afterthought coming to mind- If he's even still alive.

The beeping of the microwave snapped him to the present. He pulled the pancakes out and sat down. That whole situation could wait until later, he figured. Tapping one hand on the table, his phone vibrated halfway through his meal. He paused eating when he saw that it was from Sage. Worry churned in his stomach at the text.

'Can you come over? Please.'

Oliver set his half-eaten food by the sink and stood, sending a message in return before walking back upstairs to change. 'Of course. Be there soon.'

Jumping the steps two at a time, he tugged the bedroom door open and grabbed some clean clothes lying on the end of his bed. He changed quickly and ran a hand through his hair one last time before checking his reflection. After deciding he looked presentable, he jogged back downstairs to grab his bag. His notebook tumbled out of the front pocket before he could catch it. With a huff, he shoved it back into the bag and left the house.

Footsteps carried him swiftly down the sidewalk. Minutes seemed to drag on, and he felt like he was moving at a snail's pace. The wind whipped into a frenzy that followed along behind him, rustling the leaves like his nerves were. He whispered a thank you under his breath that his shift at the bakery was late today. With a quiet groan, he decided walking would take too long.

One glance to make sure things were clear and he ran toward the forest, shrugging off his jacket. He tied the sleeves around his waist and secured his bag around his shoulder. Shifting his wings, he jumped into the air with ease and soared over the trees to Sage's house. There was no time to enjoy the breeze today.

Careful to lay low and avoid being seen, he landed between the trees just out of sight of the house. He tugged his jacket back over his shoulders as he approached the house and knocked. The door swung open after a few moments to reveal Sage.

Tears stained her face, and she let out a shaking breath. She stepped forward, tugging him into a tight hug.

A spark of warmth ignited in Oliver's core at the contact before he regained himself and wrapped his arms around her in return. To his relief, she didn't seem hurt.

"Hey, hey, what's going on? What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing gentle circles on her back. He would wait for as long as she needed.

Sage pulled away and took another deep breath, wiping her face. A quiet anger settled into her features as she pulled out her phone to type. 'Atlas and I had a pretty rough argument. I,' she paused, shaking her head and deleting something before showing him the screen again. 'I think I should step out, give us both some space. I know he can take care of himself but.. he tends to be more impulsive when he's angry. I don't want him to do anything- '

She stopped, unsure how to finish.

Oliver squeezed her shoulder gently. "I get it. Go take some time for yourself. I'm sure you get tired having to be the caretaker so often… Here." He dug into his bag, pulling out a couple of dollars. "Stop by the bakery, tell them I sent you to get something."

With a quiet laugh, she nodded, giving him another tight hug. He hesitated for a moment until he spotted the necklace he had gifted her sitting lightly around her neck. He gently kissed the top of her head, stepping back just slow enough not to seem panicked about the action. "I've got it from here. Go take a break."

Sage took one more calming breath, smoothing her clothes with only a quick pause to let Oliver fix her hair. She smiled and walked away down the driveway.

A stone settled in his stomach as he approached the door. Atlas already wasn't fond of his presence, there was no telling how he would act when angry. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Before he could call out, a small pair of footsteps ran up and hugged his side. He looked down in surprise, then smiled, finding Suri clinging to his pant leg.

Suri bounced up and down, tugging his shirt. "Oliver! Are you babysitting while Sage is gone? Atlas is being mean right now." She huffed, "He thinks you're bad luck. But I think he's being dumb."

This made Oliver raise his eyebrows, but he made no comment on Atlas's opinion. "I am! I'm here to play with you until she gets back." He nudged her back gently and allowed her to take his hand.

"Atlas can join later if he decides not to be pouty. He's always so grumpy." She rambled on, pulling Oliver to what he could only assume was where she wanted to play. "Thinks everything new is bad. He's just scared to try new things I think." She whispered not very quietly, much to his amusement.

A stomping noise echoed down the hall as she pulled Oliver to sit at their destination of the small table sitting in the room of scattered toys. He turned to find its source.

In the doorframe stood Atlas glaring down at him, hair frazzled and still clearly worked up about their argument. They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Atlas stepped into the room and yanked a book off of the shelf. He sat in the corner of the room without a word, then turned his gaze to his book.

Oliver chewed his lip briefly, turning back to Suri when she called his name. "Sorry. What do you want to do first?"

A messy coloring book and a pack of crayons tied with a rubber band were pushed toward him. " Let's color!"

Seemed easy enough, he decided. He opened the book and flipped open to the first blank page. 'C' for Crow, it said. He hummed and picked up a black crayon. He glanced over to Suri's page and chuckled, unsurprised to see 'B' for butterfly on the page.

"Atlas, come color with us!" She called.

"No thanks.," he answered flatly as he flipped a page.

Suri huffed, "You're being mean!"

Atlas slammed the book onto his lap and leveled an angry gaze at her. "You're already coloring with him.," he sneered through gritted teeth, "what do you need me for?"

Hurt flashed over Suri's face for a moment. She turned away from him and back to the coloring book without answering. Awkward silence blanketed the room, only broken by the rustle of a page or scribbling crayons over paper.

Oliver put down his crayon, staring at the picture. Suri's quiet awe snapped him to attention.

"Ohhh, it's so pretty! Do you like mine?" She turned her page around. Most of the colors she had used were different shades of pink or purple.

He nodded and flashed a warm smile. "It looks great. Very pretty."

Before he could return to the book for another picture, a small hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the door. "I wanna play outside now!" Her tiny feet pattered against the floor before stopping. "Oh, oh! I wanna go swimming! Atlas, can we?"

The stone lying in Oliver's stomach got heavier at the thought until Atlas sighed. "Not if Sage isn't there, you know that. Maybe later."

Suri whined but relented, understanding. "Can we play hopscotch?" She looked at her brother for permission. An excited squeal escaped her mouth when he nodded, and she returned to pulling Oliver out of the room. As they walked outside, she rambled about other activities she wanted to do with him. Releasing her grip on him, she left him and Atlas to wait on the driveway for her to get the chalk from the toybox by the outside wall.

Atlas stood with his hands in his pockets. He cut his eyes toward Oliver, watching him closely. Suri loved her brother; he knew that. But why did it feel like she wanted this new person more? It had only been a month or so. Envy snaked through his ribs and his heart burned with the need to protect his sisters from this new possible danger in their lives.

He could be civil. Mostly. Deep in his mind, though, he followed the rules he had kept in his core for so long. Until Oliver could prove he meant what he said, Atlas would not budge.

Oliver sat down with Suri to draw their spaces with the chalk. He listened to her explain how to play, even though he already knew. It was clear she liked showing him and her siblings what she knew. He allowed her to go first before following, sparing Atlas a glance. He wanted to invite him to play, speak to him and try to settle the rocky waves of their relationship, if not for him but for Sage's sake. But he would give Atlas space, let him calm down.

Sage had warned him early on what her brother was like. It would take time for him to come around, but he would eventually.

Just as quickly as she got bored of coloring, Suri changed her mind to a new activity. Digging through the toybox, she came running back with two jump ropes. "Do you know how to play double Dutch?"

This time, he wasn't just letting her explain for the sake of it. In the corner of his vision, he noticed Atlas step over, picking up one end of each jump rope. His heart warmed knowing he would keep his little sister happy even when upset or distrustful.

Suri handed him the other end of the jump ropes before standing in the middle. "Okay, now you start spinning them!" She watched them both try to swing them in time correctly, laughing as they struggled for a minute until they got it correct. To his surprise, Suri was very good at it, encouraging her with a proud smile.

Oliver chuckled when she finally stumbled over one of the ropes. "That was impressive! Good jo- oh!" She pulled him to the middle and snatched the rope from his hands. "Oh, I'm doing it now. Alright.."

Atlas sat on his knees to even out the height with Suri. They started swinging the ropes on her cue, and Oliver stepped in. With a small smile, Atlas pulled the rope to the side and tripped Oliver up. The mischief quickly turned to a twinge of regret when Oliver's knees met the concrete.

The fabric of his pants tore from the friction, skin burning in pain. Oliver grunted slightly. It was nowhere near the most painful, but it wasn't pleasant. He heard Suri gasp and run up to him.

"Oh no! Are you okay?" She glared at her brother, standing awkwardly to the side, knowing he was at fault. "I'll get a band aid." She pointed at them both to stay still and ran inside, leaving the boys to themselves until her return.

Oliver saw Atlas shift out of the corner of his eye, glancing at the house and then back to the ground. His typically calm and aloof demeanor crumbled under the weight of accidentally hurting someone his sisters liked.

The front door slammed open again to announce Suri's return. She brought with her a bandage. Even from this distance, Oliver could see the shade of pink. He appreciated her concern even if he didn't really need the first aid. "Thank you. That's very sweet of you, Suri." He nodded his head once and took the bandage from her, placing it over his knee.

To his surprise, Atlas offered a hand down to help him stand. He took it and climbed back to his feet. A silent conversation passed between them. An agreement of peace, to be civil with each other.

Suri jumped up and down, pointing excitedly in the distance. "Sister's coming back!"

Oliver followed her gaze to find Sage waving at them with a warm smile. He stepped forward to meet her.

Sage wrapped her arms around him with a silent thank you. She looked at Atlas and raised a questioning brow. He sighed, "Yes, we stayed out of trouble. You weren't even gone that long.." He grumbled, attitude returning as if it had never left.

She rolled her eyes in amusement, pulling out her phone to say something. 'Thank you for watching them for me. If you want to stay, you can, but I won't make you.' She patted his shoulder once, ushering her siblings inside. Staring at him for a moment, she glanced back hesitantly, then returned her gaze to Oliver. Sage placed a chaste kiss on his cheek once, then turned and rushed inside with a blush blooming over her face.

The world stopped for a moment as Oliver processed what had just happened. He placed his hand on his burning cheeks. That alone was worth getting a scrape on his knees.

To avoid standing in the driveway like a weirdo, he turned to begin his walk back home, resting until it was his afternoon shift.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Cellus peeked into the bakery kitchen and knocked on the doorframe. "Oliver honey, take yourself a lunch break. Or late lunch? Snack?" She sighed with a slight shake of her head. "A break. You've been working nonstop since you came in this afternoon. Is everything okay?"

Oliver hummed noncommittally, earning a chastising stare and a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, I'll take a break for a few minutes. But uh, no, I'm fine. Just uh.." he cleared his throat, "I just feel bad for wasting materials the other day, I guess." He tugged off his apron to hang it up and wiped the flour and leftover dough from his hands.

For a moment, she studied him. Her wise and experienced gaze absorbed his image, followed by a shaking of her head. "A little wasted flour isn't as important as you are, hon. We can buy that in bulk. There's not more of you. "

"… Yeah. I know Mrs. Cellus."

She pushed him toward the door. "Go, take some time for yourself sugar. I don't want you back in this kitchen until you're fed and less mopey. Your mood will make all my cupcakes flat." she teased. "And when you get back you can help me ice the brownies, you hear?"

A groan left Oliver's mouth, knowing what that actually meant. "Alright, alright…" He stepped out of the kitchen as he decided what he wanted to do as a break. Maybe a walk and a stop by the nearby café would be good.

Oliver walked down the sidewalk past the few other food shops next to it to reach the café. He stepped inside, the bell jingling overhead as the door opened. He was greeted by the girl standing behind the counter, picking her head up from her hands.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" She droned, exhaustion in her voice.

A quick glance up at the menu and he had decided. Coffee made him a little too jittery to get work done. "I'll just get some lemonade, please."

He handed over his money to pay and stepped to the side, admiring the cozy, plant-themed décor. When his drink was ready, he took it with a 'thank you' and left the café. At the last minute, he decided to walk around the town square again.

The square was active at all times of the day with some type of event or group hanging out. It was the best spot to just sit back and watch. He strolled down the sidewalk, green weeds sprouting up through the cracks to grasp at the sunlight. A well-worn concrete bench tucked by some flower bushes caught his eye, the blooms not quite opened yet.

Wind rustled the leaves, blowing a few stray ones down the square. One landed in a girl's hair, Oliver stifling a laugh as her friend tried to pull it out. A quiet sense of loneliness settled as he watched them. Making friends was difficult, especially when trying to hide such a big part of yourself. He had friends, of course, but none he felt he could open up to.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, he took a deep breath. He was told to take a break and clear his mind. Sipping on the lemonade, he watched townspeople pass through the square, waving to those who recognized him. He had a quick conversation with an acquaintance in the supply store he frequented, then hesitantly returned to the bakery.

Another breath steeled him for the conversation he knew was coming. He tossed the lemonade into a nearby trash can before stepping inside. Mrs. Cellus waited patiently for him in the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Welcome back sugar. Hope you had a nice break. Come help me with these brownies now. I took care of those pastries for you." She spoke.

Oliver gave her a small smile and walked in, putting his apron back on. "I did. It was good to get some fresh air." He trailed off, picking up a bag of icing. Silence settled over the two of them. He waited for her to break the silence, knowing what was on her mind to ask for his help when she didn't actually need it.

Mrs. Cellus finally paused icing a brownie and turned her gaze to him.

"So. What has you hiding away in my kitchen, hm?"

"I'm- I'm not hiding," he huffed, "I just feel more relaxed working in here. I like my job."

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow, signaling him to try again. With a weary sigh, he relented.

"I've just been having really bad nightmares. It's been hard to get any good rest lately. I.. I can't focus." He ran one hand through his curls. "It's just getting to me a little bit, I guess. It's stressful."

A soft hum of understanding. "That doesn't mean I'll allow you to overwork yourself, though. No one can help if you don't tell anyone what's going on." She chided. One finger swiped chocolate icing over his nose.

Oliver nodded. "I know, I know.." He smiled, wiping the mess from his nose.

"Is there anything I can do for you though? You know I'm always going to do what I can for you."

He took a deep breath, smiling a little more when he felt her tuck a lock of his hair away from his face. "I.. could use a hug, I guess. And… maybe some company." he muttered, a blush dusting his face at the request. The embarrassment was misplaced, he knew. But that didn't change how strange it felt to ask such a thing.

Warm arms wrapped around him, enveloping him with a comforting hug that drained the weight on his shoulders. "Of course, sweetheart. Ill stay as long as you need me to."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver stood at his bathroom mirror, staring at the dark circles under his face. The conversation with Mrs. Cellus the day before had been a good reprieve from his thoughts and paranoia--- If it truly was just paranoia and had, in fact, only been hallucinating strange things, at least. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to sleep later that night.

Spending shifts staring at the ceiling, sorting through his thoughts, or picking at the feathers of his wings helped keep him distracted. Despite his best effort and many cups of coffee, he could feel the exhaustion weighing heavily in his bones the longer the day stretched on.

Gripping the counter in frustration, he splashed cold water on his face and shook himself from the stupor he found himself in. There were more important things to be doing than staring at his tired reflection.

The sound of the door opening and closing downstairs caught his attention. Joan must be home now. He stepped out of his room to say hello, finding Joan setting his jacket on the corner of a chair.

"Oh, hey Ols!," he smiled warmly, "What's up? How was your day?"

"It was fine. Pretty slow but still good." Oliver left out that he kept getting so distracted that he only managed to bake a few batches of food.

Irritably, he thunked down some ingredients to make a quick sandwich. He honestly did not have much of an appetite, but he needed something to keep himself going. A scolding would surely be due if he were caught making coffee this late in the day.

Joan hummed but nodded, glancing at the sandwich being prepared. "Not super hungry tonight I take it?"

A shake of Oliver's head.

"All good. Let me know if you do want anything later though." he offered, placing a hand on Oliver's shoulder for a moment before going upstairs to change.

Placing the sandwich on a plate, Oliver let out a heaving sigh. A shadow flickered and moved from the corner of his eye but he couldn't will himself to care. The knife he had been using slipped and fell into the sink. Trying to catch it felt like he was moving in slow motion.

Groaning, he shook his head to fight off the foggy feeling in his brain that muddled his thoughts. He didn't even realize Joan had returned until blonde hair entered his vision. How long had he been standing at the counter? When did Joan come back?

Questions filtered through his mind and slipped through his fingers like sand. His knees buckled underneath him, darkness creeping into his vision as he began to slump over.

The startled shout of his name seemed much too far to reach.

Chapter Text

Fuzzy voices stirred Oliver toward consciousness. Feeling returned in his hands. He could feel someone holding them.

Something cold pressed gently onto his forehead, causing him to scrunch his face slightly. The cold disappeared for a moment. A voice whispered before placing it on his head again.

Slowly, Oliver pried his eyes open. The light in the room was dim and didn't hurt his eyes like he feared it might.

What time was it? Where was he?

Last he remembered, he was talking to Joan, and then…

Oliver opened his eyes to look around, finding Joan and Sage looking worriedly at him. Joan pulled a washcloth into view, setting it aside as Sage squeezed his hand.

“How're you feeling bud..? Any aches?" Joan asked softly, reaching up to feel Oliver's face. "Still a little flushed but not as warm as you were.. What happened? We were talking and you just… fainted."

"I.." His mouth felt dry, and not just because he needed some water. He couldn't admit to Joan what was happening. He'd be so disappointed.

Sage reached forward with her phone, holding it in between them both. 'Can I speak with Oliver alone for a moment, please?'

"Sure." he nodded, "I'll be back in a minute with some water."

The two watched Joan step out of the room and close the door with a soft click.

When Oliver turned to look at Sage again, she was much closer to his face, startling him. "S-Sage...! Wh... what are you even doing here? What time is it?" He leaned back to check his bedside clock—so he was in his room—and it read 11:15 a.m. He scrunched his eyebrows. It was late in the afternoon when he'd fainted. Had he been unconscious all night?

'You aren't sleeping.' A phone shoved into his field of view. 'You're not telling us anything. Me or your stepdad. Why not?'

Oliver swallowed, unsure how to answer. She'd caught him, but how much could he really say without risking his secret?

“I've been having nightmares, that's all. I'm just not sleeping well because they wake me up a lot. That's all. I haven't really said anything because.. well, there isn't really anything to be done about it."

Technically, that wasn't a lie. She didn't need to know that he avoided sleep altogether until things passed.

'Did you dream this time?' She asked, watching his face.

He shook his head.

Sage placed the phone down for a moment and took his face in her hands. Too startled to react, he allowed her. "Uh.. what are you doing?"

Searching his eyes for a moment before pulling away, she nodded to herself. 'I was checking something, that's all.' She gave him an innocent smile. Sitting back, she took hold of his hand again.

The door creaked open again a few moments later to reveal Joan with two glasses of water tucked into his arm. He gave one to each of them, sitting on Oliver's bedside.

“Alright. So, what's going on Ols? Is this about those weird dreams you were having?" His brow creased in concern.

Oliver shrunk in on himself at the two pairs of eyes watching him so closely. "I mean.. I guess? I don't know. They're weird but.." He sighed, backing away from admitting the truth and worrying them both. "I don't know. I overworked myself this week I guess. I'm okay, really. I feel fine now."

Joan hummed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I'm assuming Mrs. Cellus isn't asking you to work overtime and you're just getting carried away?"

A nod.

“Okay. Well, I called and you're taking the next couple of days off. You've got a fever. Being sick and overworking yourself isn't healthy Ollie. You know that." Joan pat his knee gently, smiling at Sage when she nodded along.

'I went to the bakery about an hour ago; you weren't there. Mrs. Cellus said you'd called in sick, so I came to check on you.”

Oliver looked between them, unsure what to think. He nodded, whispering out an "okay…"

Setting the glass of water to the side, Sage stood. 'I should get back home. We'll be sure to visit soon, okay?" She squeezed his hand.

"See you soon!" Joan waved with a warm smile as she left before turning back to him. Something in his smile shifted. It seemed strained.

A sinking nervousness settled in Oliver's stomach. Did Joan hear what they had been talking about?

"I'm feeling better, I promise."

"I'm sure you do," Joan nodded, "but I still want you to rest for today at the very least. I don't want you working tomorrow at the very least. But I want you on bed rest today. Take a nap, relax, okay? I'll come back with dinner later."

With a gentle ruffle of Oliver's hair, Joan stood and left the room, footsteps echoing down the hall.

Silence settled over the room as Oliver watched the door. There was no way he'd be able to sleep right now. The last dreamless sleep was lucky, and probably only because he was so tired. If that's what had to be done to avoid these nightmares, he would do it. Speaking of nightmares, though...

Oliver leaned over to his bedside and opened the drawer to grab his notebook. Flipping it open, he read through what he had written—his dreams, what he had theorized, what he learned from the library.

His nightmares had to have some connection to reality. Glancing between the pages, something caught his eye.

In his recent dreams, the party full of people that suddenly were all…

Quickly, he shook the thought away and looked at what he'd written from the articles. Skimming through them, everything suddenly made sense.

These dreams. They weren't predictions or random events. They were of the past. Cadoc's memories. But why? How? What started all of this?

Oliver groaned, running a hand down his face. One answer leads to nothing but more questions. He supposed progress was still progress, at least.

One underlined note in red caught his attention. Cadoc's mom had survived. If she's still in town, she could give Oliver some answers. He grabbed his phone and opened his messages with Sage. For a moment, he hesitated. Did he want her involved in all of this? One favor can't hurt. Besides, he could find some excuse for it.

Sage replied quickly, assuring him she would have an address for him when they visited the next day. To his relief, she didn't ask why he needed such a thing.

Until then, he could only wait.

To ease the tension in his muscles, he lifted the back of his shirt to allow his wings to form. He hadn't stretched in a while, and his body had started to complain. Pulling a couple of loose feathers, his mind wandered around the room while he waited for Joan to return. He wouldn't be taking that nap if he could help it.

Before long, a soft knock on his door made Oliver sit up. The door creaked open, and Joan peeked his head in. "Oh, you're already up. I made your favorite—you're allowed to eat in bed this time," he teased as he opened the door completely. Balanced in his arm were a cup and a plate. He set them in Oliver's lap, who chuckled lightly.

"I didn't know we had the stuff for shrimp alfredo right now."

"Well," Joan admitted with a smile, "I made a special trip for you."

Oliver shot him a look but accepted the food. "Thanks, dad."

Joan hummed and plopped onto the bed next to him, bumping shoulders. "Scoot and make some room. I'm gonna bring my plate up here. Make a mess on your bed," he teased, rolling over to stand back up. He returned quickly with a drink and plate of his own and shimmied an arm around Oliver's wings when they both settled.

"So," he started, "How'd you sleep? You slept right?" Joan narrowed his eyes slightly.

Oliver nodded with a small huff. "I rested, yeah." His wings twitched at the thought of how many half-truths he'd been telling lately.

The answer seemed to satisfy for now. "Good. Now eat or I'll take your phone."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Water sloshed around his ankles, calming and cool. This wasn't the beach, Oliver realized, half relieved and half angry. He'd fallen asleep. But no beach didn't mean he was safe. In fact, the new environment had him more worried.

Oliver turned, seeing Sage standing not too far away, water reaching her knees.

She looked… normal.

Sage waved at him with a gentle smile and beckoned him closer.

Maybe this was a typical dream after all. If it were just a dream about him and Sage, he certainly wouldn't complain.

After a moment, he complied, wading toward her through the chilled moss-filled water. He took her outstretched hand in confusion as she tugged him over to a small bed in the water.

Grinning, Sage reached down and scooped her hands down, turning to face him and showing what she'd caught. A small fish swam lazily in the water, stopping for a moment to investigate her hand. She smiled at the fish before setting it back into the water and gesturing for Oliver to try as she stepped back behind him.

Oliver stepped forward, searching for the moss bed Sage had found. A cold shiver ran up his spine. He saw nothing but hands reaching up for him in the water—the hands that always tried to drag him into the ocean.

A hand gently touched his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Oliver.."

Her voice was soft, and for a moment, he was sure he had imagined her speaking until she did so again. The hand left his shoulder and was replaced with a cold feeling. "Look at me.."

Slowly, so slowly, he turned to look at Sage.

If he weren't dreaming he surely would have fainted.

The twisted, wicked smile on her face is unnatural. Too big for her face and just so wrong on the face he'd grown to love. She raises a finger to point, and only then does he notice the crowd standing in the water behind her.

Easily the entire town, maybe more. Their faces all blurred together into one writhing mass of bodies, shifting and whispering, hungry to tear at him.

"This is what he really is! What you've let creep back into the safety of our town!" She rasped.

In a panic, Oliver looked down and behind him, finding his wings exposed. No matter how he tried, he could not will them away.

He needed to run. To fly. Escape, somehow.

The hands grabbed his ankles, scraping the skin of his legs with long claws. The crowd stepped forward until Sage blended with the crowd and continued toward him.

Desperately, he fought the hands grasping at him, only for them to try to snatch his hands as well. The crowd descended upon him quickly and mercilessly, smothering him. He stumbled backward. The inky hands in the water wasted no time grabbing at his wings, tearing out feathers like the leaves on a tree.

Oliver gasped, writhing as a harsh yank on his wings made him cry out.

"Oliver."

A quiet voice tore through the gibberish of the crowd.

"Listen."

Through the panic, he searched for who called him.

"Grab my hand."

Between the bodies pressing down on him, a hand reached out, wavering but waiting. Without hesitation, Oliver grabbed the hand and pulled himself up. A groan of pain escaped between his teeth, and the hands fought to keep hold of his wings. He shoved his way through the crowd as the hand tugged him away until he suddenly stood on the beach again.

"There you are.."

Oliver rubbed his eyes before focusing on the figure before him.

That shadow. The shadow that he'd seen watching him.

Smoky black but clearly the silhouette of a man, golden eyes staring back at him.

"I've heard much of you, as I'm sure you have of me by now."

It didn't take a genius to know who stood before him.

"Cadoc…"

The eyes squinted, almost a smile.

"Yes. I don't have much time to speak to you now. But I wish to do so again in your next dream if you would allow me.”

The lines between reality and dream blurred, and Oliver rubbed his face. Was this still his imagination or truly the person he kept hearing of?

"Why?" He asked, tired. "What do you want from me? Why is this happening?"

The eyes watching him became downcast, and the shadow sighed. "I'm sorry. I hate that you are experiencing such pain. No one else can possibly understand how this feels. You don't belong anywhere and it's not fair. To be judged for being yourself." It raised a hand. "But I know what it's like. I can help you. You can belong with me. Help me set things straight…"

They watched each other quietly for a moment as Oliver absorbed Cadoc's words. They rang true as much as he was ashamed to admit. Aside from Cadoc and his mom, there had never been another half-human Guardian.

"Come and find me again in your dreams. I can show you what must be done. You, my mother, and I are the first of our kind Oliver. We must stay together." The shadow began to dissolve, and the voice faded.

Crawling up his legs, the sensation of hands returned. Looking down in a panic, Oliver felt his heart skip as the water in the sand rose, and the hands, along with it, dragged him under.

His eyes snapped open.

The room felt too humid and too cold. Oliver felt his heart slamming against his ribs as the panic of the nightmare subsided and the cold sweat disappeared. He laid still and watched the ceiling, counting through deep breaths. His back ached.

Sitting up made Oliver wince. He glanced at his clock. It read 9:30. He slept in. With a sigh, he climbed out of the bed, slipping into another hot shower to soothe his back and think.

All the dreams felt real, but this one was different somehow. Cadoc spoke to him and found him. He said to look for him again in the next dream…

Cadoc’s words resonated in his core. He didn't know what to believe. Caelum and everyone else seemed to avoid any mention of him, but speaking to him only showed an angry and hurting person. Why couldn't both be true? Maybe they are.

Oliver turned off the shower and dried, considering looking for Cadoc or not. Maybe a decision for later.

Joan was sitting on the couch as he descended the stairs, looking up at the creak of the last step.

"Hey! Good morning bud, how you feel?" He smiled.

"Fine." He shrugged. "I thought you worked today?"

Standing from the couch, Joan stepped into the kitchen. "Yeah, I called out today in case you needed me." He hummed, digging through the refrigerator. "Hungry at all? Was going to make us some breakfast bowls."

"Hm." Oliver rubbed his neck and grunted a small yes. "I plan on going out for a bit at least. Just for a walk. Get some air, you know."

He stepped up beside Joan, pulling out some eggs and sausage to put in. It was a much quieter morning than usual, but a welcome change for today.

The two of them sat down at the table, enjoying the meal they'd cooked together. Oliver often wondered why they kept the third chair around. He glanced at Joan. Neither had ever mentioned divorce, but it was clear neither was interested in the other anymore.

Joan noticed his gaze and offered a soft smile. "How'd you sleep?"

Oliver felt his other hand scrunch the fabric of his pajama pants. "I slept.." He answered slowly, before leaving it there. His grip tightened. If he followed Cadoc, what would happen to Joan? To Sage?

They'll be fine, a little voice whispered in his mind.

They can learn to live without you.

"Hey, you still with me? Ollie."

A hand in front of his face startled Oliver from his spiraling thoughts. "Sorry. I was just… thinking. Maybe I just need to make some sleeping changes. Maybe I haven't been practicing my power enough.." He lied.

"Could be. Have you been practicing?" Joan asked between bites. "You don't practice much here at least. Not that I've seen."

With a mischievous smile, Oliver flicked his hand at Joan. A swift breeze knocked his already loosely sitting glasses from his face.

"Not that you've seen." He snickered.

Joan feigned an annoyed sigh and picked up his glasses from their spot on the table. "Fair enough.," he relented, "maybe I deserved that. If you do go for a walk, try not to be gone too long okay? Sage and her siblings are coming over to check on you remember." He pointed his fork at Oliver as he stood.

"Oh yeah. And you're doing dishes tonight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver sat under the willow tree by the edge of the pond. The typically calming water seemed less appealing last night. Kelp and weeds drifting in the water seemed too much like long fingers waiting for him to step within reach. The wind tugged through his hair, a consistent and comforting hand.

How is it fair to find comfort in something that technically cursed him to be different? Have these horrible, confusing dreams? Feel too uncomfortable to be honest, and put relationships at risk?

Angry, he picked up a rock and threw it, watching it bounce once before falling messily into the water.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.

He never asked for any of this. Why does he have to hide such a major part of himself just because other people would judge him? He never asked for a lot. He never really wanted anything. Was it too much just to want to be himself and be treated like a normal person?

Frustrated, Oliver threw another rock as far as he could. His eyes burned with an anger he so rarely expressed.

"Maybe Cadoc is right…" He sighed, dropping his head into one hand.

At least for now, he could have some peace. He knew his dream was probably just that—a dream. Yet a small worry inched into the back of his mind: Maybe she would react the same way in reality.

He slid a hand down his face and closed his eyes. He would not sleep, but he would at least rest and listen to nature.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver closed the door softly behind him, calmer than he had felt in a while. Nothing had really been solved, but he appreciated the time to himself anyway.

"Welcome back Ols! Feeling better?" Joan peeked over the edge of the couch.

"Yeah, a little bit. The fresh air helped." He nodded, sitting down on the couch. "Sage is coming over still..?" He tried to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

If Joan noticed he didn't mention it. He patted Oliver's shoulder once. "As far as I know. But if you don't want them to visit they don't have too you know. You can change your mind."

"Yeah, I know." He chuckled, "I just wanted to be sure. Maybe we can make them some lunch..?"

Joan smiled. "Sure, why not. What do you wanna make?" He sat up and stretched.

A few beats passed in thought as they both went through the kitchen for ingredients.

"Maybe something with fruit? It's hot out…"

"Like a fruit salad?"

"Do we have the stuff for that?"
"Well did you get the groceries I asked you to last week?"

"Ugh, yes. I only forgot the one time."

"Fruit salad then."

Oliver rolled his eyes with a small smile, passing the time with his dad in comfortable silence, aside from occasional comments about ingredient measurements. It helped distract him from the whirlwind of thoughts keeping him awake—almost enough to make him forget his dream about Sage.

As if sensing his train of thought, a soft knock on the door caught his attention. Wiping his hands on a towel, he stepped away from the counter where Joan was finishing the lunch. He opened the door to Sage and her siblings. "Hey! You're just in time. We were making lunch. I hope you didnt eat already." He smiled around, a knot forming in his stomach.

ran forward, wrapping her arms around Oliver's legs as they stepped inside. "Oliver!! Hi! I missed you!!" She squealed as Oliver bent down to tickle her sides before picking her up.

"I missed you too! You being good for Sage and Atlas?" He smiled, walking them to the kitchen.

Atlas glanced over at the mention of his name. He studied them for a moment before relenting and approaching Joan to help serve the food.

"Yeahhhh," Suri whined, "Sissy said you're sick! You should go lay down and have soup like she always makes me do." She slapped a hand on his forehead as if to check his temperature.

Oliver laughed and removed her hand. "I think she was exaggerating a little. I was just sleepy. I'm always at the bakery making snacks for hungry little kids like you." He poked her forehead as he set her in a chair, earning a giggle. "Thank you for worrying about me, though. That's sweet."

Distantly, he felt Sage's eyes on him. He was yet to look at her directly, to speak. His chest tightened in fear of that twisted smile on her face.

The five of them passed out lunch and sat down to eat before they moved into the living room.

Sage nudged his arm gently. 'You're actually feeling better right?'

Oliver suppressed the startled jump at her contact. "I-oh, yeah, I am. I'm... I'm good. Promise." He answered quickly. His short and unusually nervous answer caught Atlas's attention, narrowing his eyes in confusion but keeping his mouth shut.

Slowly, as conversation passed between them, Oliver felt his shoulders relaxed and the anxiety in his gut dissolve. He was being silly, letting dreams get to him like that. Nothing he ever dreamt really depicted the future; why would it now? He released a soft breath as the worry slid off his shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bakery was having a slow day today. The occasional customer coming in for a snack or picking up an order wasn't out of the ordinary. Neither were delivering orders, as Oliver typically was the one to deliver those. Today was no different.

Mrs. Cellus peaked in through the kitchen entrance door frame. "Oliver, honey, I need you to make and run a delivery, okay? So go ahead and get it done when you're finished with those pastries." She placed a piece of paper on the nearby counter before leaving the room.

Pausing work after sliding the baked goods into the oven, he walked over to check the order. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise. A pomegranate cake…

Oliver hummed in interest and walked over to the stack of dessert cookbooks kept on a shelf. Flipping through a couple until he finally found a recipe, he set it down on the counter to gather ingredients. He was surprised they had any pomegranate in stock with how uncommonly it was asked for.

It wasn't a complicated recipe to follow. The hardest part was pulling out the seeds from the inside of the pomegranate and the stains it left on his hands. He huffed but waited until he was finished with the cake to try and wash his hands. No point if they would just get dirty again.

He only paused once to remove the pastries and set them aside to decorate when cooled. After filling the two cake pans, he slid them into the oven, wiping his hands over his apron. Red still stained his hands. He chuckled to himself morbidly, noting how, if he hadn't known better, his hands looked like the aftermath of a murder.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he returned to the pastries and set them out for display. Idly, he cleaned the kitchen while he waited for the cakes to finish. Glancing at the address written on the order, he hummed in worry. Another area in the East End. Why did it seem like all the deliveries lately were to places he wanted to avoid?

More time must have passed than he realized as the oven timer went off to signal that the cakes needed to be removed. He jolted upright from his wandering thoughts and pulled the cakes before they burned to return to work. He removed some frosting he'd prepared earlier to put a simple layer over the cake and add some small details. With a satisfied sigh of finishing the cake, he dropped a few pomegranate seeds on top for decoration.

"There… not my worst, I'd say." He noted to himself, sliding the cake gently into a delivery box. Removing his apron and tucking the address note in his pocket, he carried the cake box out of the bakery toward its destination.

His fingers quietly tapped the sides of the box as he walked. The closer he got to the east end, the more anxious he became. The last time he'd been here, that woman at the store had told him those strange things. He made sure to walk on the other side of the street from that store when he neared it.

Slowly, he realized where the address had asked him to go. It was almost exactly across from the area in which that massacre had happened.

A girl with light green hair sat on a bench outside the building. As he approached on the sidewalk, her head turned to face him, her face twisting into an odd smile.

Oliver bit back a small gasp of surprise. Down the right side of her face and her upper arm were small horizontal scars littering her skin. Two larger ones cut through her right eyebrow and across the bridge of her nose. What in the world had happened to her?

"Did you order the uh, pomegranate cake..?" He stuttered out before quickly gathering himself again.

She smiled a bit more. "I did."

A strange feeling crept through him as her eyes bore through him. Robotically, he exchanged the cake for the money, lingering there for a reason he couldn't explain.

The woman noticed him standing for a moment longer and chuckled, shooing him off back down the street. He felt her eyes digging into his back until he rounded the corner of the street.

Walking back to the bakery was over in a blink, but Oliver's mind stayed dwelling on the woman. Why did she make him so uneasy? Why did she almost seem familiar? He wasn't one to judge by appearance—that would be a bit hypocritical—but something about her just unnerved him to no end.

Pomegranate staining his hands made him too jittery to continue working. He turned on the sink and scrubs at his hands, fumbling with the soap as his hands shook.

He was paranoid. He had to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver glanced between the paper in his hand and the door in front of him. He'd checked three times to make sure but still worried he had the wrong place. But he had to know. He had to find out what really happened. Not from a paper, not from Caelum, not from rumors. He needed to learn from someone who was there.

Raising a shaky hand, he knocked softly on the wooden door. A voice called from the other side to wait a moment. Oliver shifted the small box of muffins he'd prepared to soften the conversation.

Finally, the door creaked open to reveal a woman. Her hair was white, save for a few black strands that were still holding on. In her left hand was a dark blue cane supporting her weight. Heavy, world-weary eyes gazed down at him.

"Yes?"

He swallowed before speaking. "Hi ma'am, my name is Oliver. Are you Eirian Haley?"

"I am," she nodded. Why? Are you trying to sell me whatever is in that box?" She eyed it with suspicion.

"No, no. I was actually hoping to speak with you for a little while? I brought some muffins just as a uh, gift." A nervous laugh escaped him, and he opened it for her to see inside. He wasn't sure if gift was the right word.

Eirian seemed to think for a moment before returning her attention to Oliver.

"I don't need to be bribed for conversation, son. What are you wanting to talk about?" She asked, seeming warmed by the idea anyone wanted to speak with her.

"I was hoping to ask you about…" he paused and took a breath. "I wanted to know what happened to your son, Cadoc.."

Oliver felt his heart clench at the hard shift in her gaze. Surely, he would be denied.

Eirian sighed. "No one has asked me about him in over a decade. No one wants to remember that day." Her eyes narrowed, but she stepped back, opening the door for him. "Why do you?"

Pleasantly surprised, Oliver thanked her and stepped inside. It felt odd to blurt out something he had worked so hard to hide, but she needed to know in order to understand why he was here. Following her to a couch with a small table, he explained himself.

"I know he and you are descended from Marat. I'm.. I'm a half blood as well. Caelum is my father. I've been… having dreams. Nightmares. Your son's name has come up several times even though I've never met him. He wants me to… join him but I don't know what that means. I… tried to do some research but I didn't find much. But I saw that I might be able to speak with you. I just…" he glanced away for a moment. "I'm lost with what is going on. I want to understand what happened twenty years ago. It might help."

Quietly he studied her expression as she eased herself onto the old couch. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "That would make us something like cousins, then.." Eirian closed her eyes for a moment. "I see why you brought the muffins. Maybe not a bad idea after all."

Oliver handed the box to her and allowed her to take a muffin. "I suppose it would… I'm sorry to barge in on you so suddenly like this. I just don't know who else to go to for help with something like this. Even Caelum isn't sure what it is."

"You're having strange dreams, you said?" She placed her muffin down on the napkin.

He nodded.

"Cadoc and I experienced dreams as well. Typically, twisted versions of past events, or of the other guardians. Very rarely would anything of the future appear. But our abilities are different from yours, so there may be some variation." She explained. "The dreams themselves usually don't have much meaning. But in your case, this is more urgent."

Leaning forward, Oliver looked at her pleadingly. "Is there anything you can tell me about what happened that day? To you, and Cadoc?" Guilt ate at his insides at asking her to relay what he knew was such a painful experience.

Eirian took a deep breath, any mirth gone from her eyes as she replayed that day. "I do not know all the details. Cadoc is the only one who does, I'm sure. But it was his wedding. His father and I were so happy for him. He'd suffered so much because of his heritage."

"People knew..?" His eyes widened.

"Things were different then, son. But for us particularly, things were difficult. No one loves the idea of death. People get the wrong idea of our abilities. Folks assumed we were the reason they passed, and not just their guide to the afterlife. Though that was mostly Marat's duty… Cadoc and I always had to be careful. Getting emotional was dangerous."

Oliver sighed and nodded. He knew from experience what she meant, but maybe not quite the degree of control they had to have. "Makes our powers unstable… it mostly just makes things windy for my but… I can't imagine for you."

A hollow smile passed Eirian's features. "Yes." She inclined her head to glance at a photo on the wall. "If we were not careful, we truly could cause death. None of us wanted to prove rumors correct. But Cadoc… he was always more emotional than myself. At the reception, a man started to berate him. Said terrible things. And that was all it took. Cadoc lost himself in anger. It killed everyone. Everyone but me, only because I'm not human. But it weakened me." She tapped her hair. "I'm not as old as I look."

Oliver's mind was filled with hundreds of questions as she spoke. Was his own power that dangerous? What was said that made Cadoc react so violently? Was he truly the bad guy as Caelum made him out to be?

Oliver made a mental note to speak to him again about this situation.

A beat of silence passed before he spoke again. "What happened to Cadoc..?"

A cold blank expression passed over Eirian's features—something not quite sad but not quite angry. "I wish I knew. He helped bring me to the door of the local hospital, but after that, he disappeared with my father. Marat came back later to explain that he had to face 'consequences,' but never explained more than that.

Finally, Oliver could place the emotion.

Disappointment. Grief. A cold, numb acceptance of what happened. Cadoc lost his wife, but Eirian lost both her son and husband that night.

"I'm… so sorry."

leaned over to a side table and picked up the photo she'd glanced at earlier. It was the only one he could see of the three of them.

"I thought he had learned to control himself," she sighed, "I thought I taught him well. Some nights he'd… come home, bleeding or bruised. The other children were afraid of him. Yet he had always tried to be kind. I suppose he'd finally had enough." Gingerly, she allowed Oliver to take the frame and hold it.

"I'm not sure what I would say even if I did see him again." She muttered, seemingly more to herself.

In the photo stood Eirian, much younger. A thin but genuine smile sat on her face as a man embraced her with one arm—her husband. Standing between them was a younger boy with pitch-black hair and hazel-brown eyes that almost seemed to shine gold. Cadoc. He looked happy.

A pain almost not his own washed over him as he returned the frame, climbing to his feet. "Thank you. For telling me all of this. I promise, I'll do what I can to set things straight. I'll try to bring Cadoc home."

Chapter Text

Oliver stood near the front door, arms crossed as he waited for Caelum. He would be visiting soon and had a lot to answer for. It was even stranger now, knowing who Cadoc was. His mother never mentioned Caelum, so what caused such a panicked reaction before? He would find out.

Minutes ticked by in an agonizingly slow march. The silence filling the house emphasized Joan's absence, but maybe it was best he wasn't present for this conversation.

In the quiet wait for Caelum to arrive, Oliver's mind drifted back to his nightmare about Sage. She would never do something like that, right? Why would she? Unless… No. She had never mentioned the Guardians, let alone ever feeling slighted by them. She didn't even recognize Caelum in the photo.

A knock jolted Oliver from a panicked spiral. He stood from where he leaned against the wall and opened the door. Caelum stood at the door, turning to face it when he heard it open, hinges making the softest of squeaks. His eyes widened slightly when he noticed Oliver's wings tucked over a tank top.

"Oh! Oliver. I didn't realize you ever…" He trailed, unsure how to finish the sentence.

Oliver shrugged and stepped aside to let him in. "Well, no reason to hide them in my own house unless there's company." 

The Guardian nodded with a soft hum and sat down at the table as he had before. Shutting the door behind them, Oliver sat down with a heavy sigh. This would not be a pleasant conversation. But then again, wouldn't just sitting down on this news for the rest of his life be worse?

"I know about Cadoc. What happened to him…"

A strangled noise escaped Caelum. "How could you have possibly learned about that?" He gaped. 

"Because." Oliver huffed. "I knew you wouldn't outright tell me if I asked you. So I went to the library. Did my research about it, found his mother. I went and spoke with her." 

Silence drifted between them until he spoke again. "I don't understand. Why are you so scared? What is it about him that me just mentioning the name made you freak out and leave? What happened to him?" 

Caelum's head dropped, and a strange emotion crossed his face. His voice came out subdued and strained, so unlike the unabashed confidence he typically spoke with. "Cadoc and I were close friends once upon a time. But after the wedding, and the trial…" He let out a pained and sigh-like wheeze, "Something changed. I don't know when or why. Maybe if he hadn't gotten so angry that night…" His gaze drifted off as if reliving the memory.

Oliver stared, more questions entering his mind as each word from Caelum's mouth filled in the gaps in his narrative. He opened his mouth to speak, but Caelum cut him off.

"What's done is done. He is dangerous now, and I can only assume he knows who and what you are, that you exist. Someone else like him. Using your dreams, trying to use you in order to retaliate for what was done to him. My son, I beg you," each muscle in Caelum's face stretched into something wrought with a pain unimagined yet before. An expression he never wanted to see on his father's face, subpar parent or not. Oliver could feel his heart lurch, bile stirring somewhere in his stomach. "Do not seek him out. Do not let him hurt you." Caelum's expression had already tensed up again into something tinged with a fearful disdain. 

With another heavy sigh, Oliver stood from his chair. His wings fluttered in irritation. "You won't even tell me. You won't explain anything -  no matter what I ask! How am I supposed to avoid doing the wrong thing when I don't even know what the wrong thing is?" A puff of air, tinged with a hint of ozone, breezed between them. Harmless but suffocating, the smell burning Oliver's nose, making his lungs shudder and his feathers ruffle. Caelum seemed nowhere near as affected, but Oliver expected as much. 

Caelum raised his hands, slow and cautious, as if encountering a caged animal. "Oliver, Please." He begged, "Even I don't know everything that transpired that night - or after. I was only there to determine his guilt. I don't even know what his final punishment was, but clearly it wasn't death. Not in the traditional sense, at least." Caelum seemed to hesitate, fingers twitching before slowly curling into his palms, scratching at the lines in his skin. Caelum was nervous. Cautious. Watching every breath and twitch and calculated move that Oliver made. "I am not aware of a Guardian who has been killed. I do not know what he wants, except that it will endanger everyone. Please, do not listen to whatever he tries to offer you. I only want you to be safe." 

A heavy silence falls over them. Oliver narrowed his eyes and sat down again. What else were they meant to say now?

The two of them sat quietly for several minutes until the sound of the door opening startled the both of them. 

Oliver turned to find Joan stepping inside as he pulled off his jacket. His eyes darted between the two sitting at the table. "Oh! Caelum, hi. Ols, you uh, didn't tell me he would be visiting tonight."

"No," Oliver stood and smoothed down a few stray feathers from his earlier outburst. "I just wanted to ask him about something."

Sensing the tension, Caelum rose from his chair as well. "I was just leaving actually. Joan, have a nice afternoon. Oliver, please. Remember what I said." He stepped around Joan and out the door, taking flight before either inside could say anything.

Joan closed the door in a stunned quiet before turning to his stepson. "Well.. what did you ask him about?"

"Just some dream stuff."

"Did it help at all?" he set his bag on the counter where it always stayed.

A quiet hum. "Yeah, kinda."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver stared up at the ceiling, waiting to fall asleep. Doubts circled his mind. He glanced toward his window where the trees crowded the side of the house. He sometimes wondered how well he might fare if he ran away. His silent feelings of being outcasted felt like too much sometimes, overriding rational thought. Such feelings had been appearing more often lately. They clouded his brain like smoke, blurring out what he knew was true. But then, he would remember Sage. Joan, Suri, Atlas, Mrs Cellus… the tiny family he had begun to make his own. Suddenly, the fog in his mind would clear like someone had opened a window. 

He traced the feathers marked into his skin with a finger. Clinging to the warm thoughts of his loved ones calmed his heart, settling him to sleep despite his developed fear of doing so. Slowly, his eyes fell shut, drifting into a peaceful sleep for some time.

Until the peace was broken. 

The fluttering sounds of wings filled his ears, starkly aware they were not his own. His gut told him it wasn't Caelum either. But then, who could it have been? Zera? He'd been told she had wings as well.

Looking up from where he lay on the rocky, burnt-red ground, he saw a figure dash into a nearby tree line. The rock and forest blended in a way that looked wrong but somehow still seemed to work. 

Oliver looked around to see unfamiliar surroundings. "What-.." A high-pitched scream interrupted him, and he turned quickly. "Who's there!?" The cry rang out again, louder this time. He started and turned to a random direction of the forest and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He needed to help them. Except, wait.

The screaming kept repeating, always behind him, as if it was chasing him. He stumbled over a root in his path, but he managed to stay upright. Whatever was making that ear-piercing shriek was determined to catch him. The screaming didn't let up, not once. 

Finally, he broke through a line of pine trees and found himself in a clearing. The sight froze his blood and scared him into still silence. The one screaming, it was himself. Yet, it wasn't. The copy was knelt down, hands over its head. Its back faced Oliver and hid its expression. Why was it screaming? What's going on?. He winced and covered his ears before returning to watch the scene play out. 

Suddenly the copy went limp, and blood pooled from its body. It began to flood in from all sides, gushing the red liquid through the trees and up from the ground. It seeped into his shoes and stuck to his skin, soaking through his clothes no matter where he turned to escape. His wings felt as if they were filled with lead. As the level rose, he was forced to swim to keep himself from drowning. His head suddenly hit something. He looked up, but nothing was there like it was glass. Then, a sudden realization hit him. He was trapped in some kind of snow globe, and he had been running in circles around the clearing, explaining why it never got quieter. The blood rose higher, inches from the top of the glass, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

He turned. 

The figure had reappeared. It dove down, and he watched. 

A sudden tug on his leg yanked him under. The blood crept into his nose and mouth, filling his lungs with the sticky red liquid. He coughed and choked, trying to swim up and resurface for air, but to no avail. The force of the grip pulled him farther and farther down, never stopping. His lungs felt like they were going to burst. Until the weight in his chest vanished and his back hit the rocky ground he had awoken on. 

Slowly, his eyes cracked open. Above him, the figure from before flickered and shifted. Nothing about it was possible to make out except for the deep blue wings spread from its back. It pinned him down on the rock by his arms, sitting on top of him to prevent escape. The places it grabbed him were like living static, pins and needles spreading under his skin. 

It exuded malice and darkness, staring through him even without eyes. It sneered at Oliver, mocking him for his weakness and taunting him. Oliver tried to fight back, but the entity was too powerful. It seemed to know all of his flaws and vulnerabilities, using any attempt to escape against him in a cruel game of cat and mouse. As the seconds stretched out, Oliver felt his resolve weakening. Doubt and fear crept into his heart, clouding his judgment and sapping his strength.

Voices tore through the silence, ringing as if they were coming from inside his head. The first voice to cut through the senseless noise was Atlas.

"I knew we couldn't trust you. You're terrible for her. You'll only bring us trouble. "  

Shook his head, trying to dislodge the voice. That's not true! Maybe at first, but he couldn't possibly still be thinking that, right?

He heard another voice, one he had heard only hours before. 

"No matter how you try, you will never belong with us. You are not like us. You are like him ." His father's voice spat, not even daring to speak Cadoc's name. 

"Stop it!" Oliver shouted at the entity. It was trying to get into his mind. "That's not true! It's-" 

Another voice cut him off, freezing his blood with the fear in the little girl's voice. "Please! Don't hurt us! "   

Suri was never afraid of him. She… there's no way. But what if? 

Gritting his teeth, Oliver continued to fight the voices, but his energy began to dwindle even in sleep. 

"How did I end up looking after a kid like you? You're more effort than you're worth." Joan sighed, disappointed and apathy dripping from his words. 

Make it stop. This had to stop. Please. 

Before Oliver could make any more attempts to fight with the last of his energy, the final voice gripped his attention as if grabbing him by the throat. 

Sage. 

And yet, he wasn't sure. It didn't sound right. But how would he know? She'd never spoken. 

The whisper was distorted, yet in his gut, he knew. 

"Did you really think I would want to be with something like you? I could never love a freak. A monster . "  

Oliver screamed. 

The rocks digging into his back trembled, and the weight pressing down on his chest suddenly vanished. He gasped for breath and opened his eyes. 

Cadoc stood beside him, gripping a sword. The metal dripped a black substance. He had killed the strange entity. Wiping the stained edge of the sword across his hand, the liquid vanished, and he tucked away the sword to offer out a hand. "There you are." 

Heaving breaths left Oliver's mouth as he took in the person before him. "Cadoc.. h-how… how did you.?" He took the hand and stumbled to his feet.

"I could sense your distress when I started searching for you. You're.. quite a state." 

Blood still soaked his clothes, clumping his hair and streaking down his face. He grimaced. "Ugh… yeah." 

Cadoc waved a hand with a chuckle, clearing up the blood dripping off of him. "Here. Let me clean you up." The forced smile on his face dropped after a moment. "You know why I'm here though, don't you? I need to know if you've made a choice yet."

Oliver blinked. "I… I don't know." He turned his gaze away. 

"The thing that attacked you. The things you heard." Cadoc began, tone dire, "that is what will happen if you continue as you are. What they will think of you. I can help you prevent that." 

A long sigh left Oliver. "That's what I worry. But…” His gaze lifted to meet gold set into a void of black. "One more day. That's all I ask. Please." 

Silence pressed down on them. Cadoc's eyes on him felt heavy, like the creature from before pinning him to the ground. Finally, he spoke. 

"Very well. One more day. Any longer and I will come and retrieve you myself." A small pause, as if realizing how his words came out, before continuing. "I only want to save you from a fate like mine. I will do what I must to be sure. Even if you won't agree in the beginning." 

Cadoc began to turn, prepared to leave.

"Wait-!" Oliver reached out slightly. There was one thing he wanted to ask first. "Why haven't you let me see you? Like… your real face. Instead of this?" He gestured to the dark silhouette facing him, glowing eyes the only distinct feature he could find. 

For a moment, Cadoc didn't speak. Either unsure how to answer or hesitant to. "This form… it is the only way I'm able to appear, when trying to reach past where I've been imprisoned to. Besides, some would argue… my appearance isn't as pleasant as it used to be."

The answer didn't make complete sense, but Oliver understood well enough. He didn't want to mistakenly say yes or no to anything, so he simply nodded. 

"I'll be waiting Oliver." 

The voice faded, and black crept into his vision until he jerked awake in bed. 

Oliver groaned. This would be a long day. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver set away the last tray of sweet rolls for the day, sighing and wiping his hands on his apron. Humming as he milled through his cleaning before they closed, his mind drifted between his dreams and what he had learned. Nothing quite made sense. Like he was trying to put together a puzzle, but one piece never fit right. 

A break by the pond may help clear his mind before sleeping tonight. 

Putting away his apron and ensuring everything was off, he exited the kitchen. "Okay, I'm finished for the day. Bye, Mrs. Cellus!" He waved and stepped out the front door. She lifted a hand and bid him farewell as the door closed with a small bell chime. 

Before the day ended, he decided to spend some time outside before heading home. Taking his usual trek across town and ducking into the forest, he took his side path to the pond he enjoyed so much. Distantly, his mind drifted to his nightmare of the place, but he couldn't quite remember what had happened. 

With a quick shake of his head, the thought was gone, and he slipped off the jacket he kept over his tank top. The air was nice. Despite knowing the place was hidden, he was not prepared to display his wings without flying away. 

In the silence, he took time to really think about what Cadoc offered. There were so many questions he couldn't find an answer for without following this proposal. What really happened to Cadoc? Who was really the bad guy in all of this? Did Oliver truly fit better with Cadoc, someone like him? The same thought stopped him that had before. His family, his friends. He didn't think he could bear to leave them without a word or even with a warning. 

A soft rustle and gasp yanked him from his thoughts with the same startling feeling as a horror movie. Seeing who it was, he almost felt like he was in one. 

Sage stood at the edge of the trees as if she was just as surprised to find him- and maybe she was. Her expression didn't quite meet his eyes, angled slightly lower. 

Oliver didn't have to ask to know what she was looking at. He felt the color drain from his face. He wasn't ready to tell her. He wanted to plan this out. But he couldn't now. 

Finally, he worked his tongue out of its lead weighted feeling and shifted more to face her, hiding the marks on his back. "Sage! I- uh… what… what are you doing here? I didn't-.." 

Stopping when Sage stepped forward, he felt his hands tremble. She stepped forward, raising a hand gently as if facing a cornered animal- and maybe, in some sense, she was. Her bag was now discarded softly into the grass as she approached. Slowly, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. His muscles jerked under her touch. 

In a silent acceptance, Oliver allowed her to nudge his back toward her again. He didn't speak until her phone was in his view. 

'I didn't know you would be here. I didn't mean to scare you. What is this on your back, though?' the phone was taken for a moment, then returned. 'You can just tell me if you don't want to talk about it.'

A small laugh left Oliver. "No, no.. It's okay, I.. I had wanted to tell you at some point anyway." He took a breath, hitching when he felt her fingers brush the marks across his back. "What do… what do you know about the Guardians?" 

A pause, some noise, and then the phone appeared again. 'I've read about it and heard stories, but I never really researched in depth or anything.'

"Right. That's about as much as most people." He joked. He gripped the fabric of his pants, trying to calm his nerves. "One of the guardians is uh… my actual dad. You saw a picture of him once I think." 

Oliver shifted again, pulling the back of his shirt down. "The marks on my back are part of what i inherited from him… they can uh, form. When I want them to, into actual wings. I don't often though because it's, you know, easier to hide this way.. Most people now would run me into the East End, or even out of town if they knew what I was…"

Behind him, Sage hummed. A soft hand rested on his shoulder. A whisper soft as the breeze over the grass met his ears. "Oliver, look at me." 

Every muscle in his body stiffened. The nightmare from nights ago crashed into the front of his mind with the weight of a train. 

His heart was pounding in his ears, and he scrambled out of her touch. He turned to face her, terrified the whole town would be staring at him. Feet slipped on algae and sent him tumbling back into the shallow water. The grass in the water like fingers, reaching and grabbing to pull him under. 

Sage gasped and reached out to help him up. The amused smile crossing her face fell at the terror painted on his. 

"No, don't, please!" 

He had to get out. She would tell them all. She knew. Horror climbed his throat and threatened to choke him. 

Oliver pushed to his feet and ran past her, leaving his bag and jacket long forgotten. Pushing through stubborn branches, desperate. The heart-grabbing, gasping sobs of fear, of terror as he heard her voice echoing in his mind. 

Even when bumping into a woman on the forest path, he only keeps running. She calls something to him, but it doesn't pierce the ringing in his ears. 

For a moment, he faltered. A branching path was calling, pulling at the frayed edges of his mind. Without much thought, he chased the feeling. Anything to hide. 

An empty clearing pushed open in front of him. In the center, a rip in space sat. Warping, shifting, and twisting. 

From within, a silhouette reached out a hand and called. "Oliver. Come, you'll be safe. I'll protect you."

Heaving, Oliver glanced behind himself once. The panic rose again, and he stepped forward quickly. He reached in and grasped the hand, tugged into the figure's chest. 

The tear he stepped through began to mend itself.

There was only enough time to see Sage break into the clearing after him. Shock and fear rose over her expression, screaming his name before the tear and the forest vanished. 

Slowly, dripping water from his fall in the pond, Oliver lifted his head, searching for the source of the warm embrace. 

Despite the age and deep scar crossing their face, it was clear who had reached out for him. 

Cadoc. 

Chapter Text

Sage stared at the spot Oliver had just been.

He was gone.

Mind stuttering back to life, Sage turned on her heel and sprinted toward the lake she and Oliver just left. Despite her racing thoughts, she made a mental note of how to return to the clearing.

The lake came into view between the trees ahead. Sage yanked up her bag and whatever Oliver had left. Without stopping to breathe, she ran toward Oliver's house.

Sage's chest burned, a mix of fear and need for oxygen. She banged frantically on the front door, heaving as she finally caught her breath.

After seconds that felt like hours, the front door clicked open to reveal Joan's concerned expression. His frown deepened upon noticing Sage and her distressed appearance.

"Sage? What's going on, what's wrong?"

With shaking hands, she held out Oliver's bag and jacket for him to take. Her voice cracked, rasping in her panic. "Oliver…"

Joan's face dropped, color draining in his face. He stared at the jacket momentarily before meeting Sage's eyes, his voice coming out like hers.

"Where's my son?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oliver didn't move, the realization of what he'd just done finally sinking in. A weight settled on his shoulders. He looked up to find Cadoc had given him the jacket he'd been wearing.

Cadoc scanned him for a moment, then smiled slightly. "I'm sure you're cold. Come on, I'll get you some dry clothes."

A hand on Oliver's back guided him forward. "Where are we?"

For a brief second, Cadoc's face hardened then softened again. "I can explain everything later. It looks much scarier than it really is, trust me."

As they walked, Oliver scanned their surroundings. The ground stretched on for miles, nearly flat and a red brown color. In the distance several cliffs silhouetted the sky, only a few shades lighter than the ground. Figures milled about close by but never strayed any closer to him or Cadoc. Any that seemed to close moved away as they approached, like Cadoc’s presence alone was enough to repel them.

Small structures buried themselves into the ground, half built homes, crumbling walls and decaying furniture. Broken picture frames and decorations scattered the ground. Oliver’s gaze lingered on a photo, leaning against a stone to the side. From where he stood, the people were hard to make out, but if he looked long enough, the figure inside with red hair resembled.. no, that didn't make sense.

Upon noticing his gaze, Cadoc nudged the boy and moved him along a bit faster. "Ignore those. They're not for us."

With his attention away from the photo, Oliver studied Cadoc's appearance. His memory returned to the photo he saw in Eirian's home. Looking closely enough made it evident this was the same boy. But the one in front of him was older, aging him more than just physically. A tiredness rested deep in his expression, weary in his imprisonment.

Cadoc's skin was pale, face and hands marred with scars and continuing under his shirt. Black hair was swept messily from his face and stopped just above his shoulders. His eyes were a deep black, marked only by gold irises, like the ones Oliver saw in his dreams.

Oliver frowned and turned his gaze away. Though some questions were answered, he kept finding more. Where they were, what exactly happened after the wedding, and the scars Cadoc had gained. He had the chance to ask soon, he supposed.

In the distance ahead, one structure stood out from the rest. A building- a house, fully built, unlike the rest. At the door stood a silhouette. As they got closer, Oliver could finally make them out.

Ashen grey skin and long black hair, with piercing lavender eyes that watched them approach. His clothes were deep blue and pastel purple, and a satchel hung from the belt on his hip. A dark grey cloak sat on his shoulders; a mask of the same color hid the bottom half of his face.

As they approached, Cadoc spoke. "I'm back sooner than expected. Oliver, this is Rue. Rue, Oliver."

Rue bowed his head, "Nice to meet you." He spoke, following Cadoc and Oliver inside after opening the door.

"Rue is one of my closest aides." He turned over his shoulder to face Rue for a moment as they walked through the home. "Do you know where Hannael has gone off to this time? I need her to return now."

A beat of silence passed as Rue thought before answering. "I'm not sure, but I can go find her. I'll be back." His footsteps faded as he turned and went in another direction in the home.

The two passed several rooms before Cadoc stopped at one and entered. A sitting room with a few decorations on the walls, particularly the photo of a girl with hair so blonde it almost looked white. Oliver sat down where directed, pushing damp hair from his eyes and giving Cadoc's jacket back to him.

"Before I answer your questions," Cadoc started as Oliver opened his mouth, "I'm going to find you some dry clothes. I'll be back in a moment." He turned, folding the jacket over a chair as he exited the room.

The room Oliver had been led into was surprisingly cozy for what he expected from this mysterious man. A few couches, a small fire in the hearth, pictures on the walls. His gaze returned to the picture- a girl with silvery blonde hair with who he recognized as a young Cadoc. He could only assume the girl with him was who he had married. Before he could further examine the room, he heard the door click open. He looked over his shoulder to see who had entered.

Rue shrugged off the cloak around his shoulders and walked over to stand by the fire. The mask he wore stayed over his mouth. He was silent for some time before his gaze turned to Oliver. "Cadoc says you are a half blood like him. Is that correct?"

Usually, that would not be something Oliver would divulge so quickly. But something about this person made him feel calm. "Yeah, I am.." he answered. "Caelum is my dad."

A beat passed between them before Rue nodded. He studied Oliver for several minutes until the door opened again, and Cadoc returned with dry clothes for him.

"I'm sorry to make you wait. Needed Hannael to make a quick trip. Rue, can you wait outside for her to get here?" Cadoc asked as he handed Oliver the clothes. Rue nodded and made his way out. "There is a spare room there you can change in." Cadoc pointed to a room on the right.

With a quiet thank you, Oliver stood, taking the clothes to the next room to change. His mind raced, body on autopilot as he peeled off his damp clothes for the dry ones.

Where was he? Was this a mistake? The worry gnawed at his chest, and suddenly, with a clearer head now that his panic had died, he felt it might have been just that- a mistake.

The question briefly passed his mind of how these clothes were his size and where Cadoc had retrieved them, but he supposed it didn't truly matter.

Oliver stepped back into the main room to find Cadoc and one new person standing nearby, talking with him idly. Pale skin and green hair, small scars littering the left side of her face. Oliver froze for a moment in shock- he'd seen her before.

Noticing he had entered the room, Cadoc looked over to him and smiled. "Oh, you're back. I hope the clothes fit alright. Oliver, this is my right hand, Hannael."

Hannael grinned at his expression, threw one hand up in a wave, and then turned back to the book she was looking at.

Cadoc turned his gaze back to Oliver, gesturing for him to sit down. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions now.."

"Yeah, I do." Oliver answered, sitting down a comfortable distance away. The sinking feeling in his stomach grew the longer he was here- something was wrong. "Where is this place?"

The sound of Hannael snapping the book shut made Oliver jump. "You're in the underworld kid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joan yanked the front door open, Caelum's hand raised about to knock. A frantic look in his eyes mirrored Joan's. "What happened?"

Caelum stepped inside, forcing a smile toward Sage, who was sitting at the table. Had she not been so shaken up, she was sure she'd be more awestruck.

The door shut with a click as Joan shook his head. "I don't know. Someone took Oliver. He was supposed to come home from work two hours ago but.." he took a deep breath to compose himself. He could get emotional later. "Sage came running to the house about an hour or so ago, she had his jacket and his bag. She said someone took him."

Caelum nodded, turning to face Sage and sitting in the closest chair. Humans were not his specialty, but he would try for Oliver. "I need to know what happened. Who took him? What did they look like?" He asked, voice strained in its attempt to sound calming.

Sage's expression tensed, gripping the blanket around her shoulders. Watching Joan for a moment, she pulled out her phone to begin typing what she knew.

".. Hello? Are you ignoring me?" Caelum frowned, glancing at the thing in her hand. "What is she doing?" He looked at Joan, who bit back a small laugh despite the situation.

Walking around to Sage's side of the table, Joan stood next to her and placed a gentle, encouraging hand on her shoulder. "Sage doesn't really like to talk, so she uses this to write what she wants to say."

Joan read along as she typed, face falling in fear, and placed her phone down when she finished. He took another deep breath before meeting Caelum's eyes and explaining what Sage had typed.

Anger burned in Caelum's veins, wind stirring in the room.

"Cadoc."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What?!" Oliver jumped back up from his chair, breath catching in his chest. "I-I… am I dead?" He gripped his shirt, trying to recall if he somehow had died.

Cadoc stood as well and held up his hands to calm the boy. "No! No, you're not, I promise." He turned a sharp glare to Hannael. "I want to speak alone."

Hannael rolled her eyes, dropped the book unceremoniously on the dresser, and left the room.

Now alone, Cadoc returned his focus to Oliver. "I promise you aren't dead. I… am not either, technically speaking. But Hannael was correct, you are in the underworld."

Sure that his legs would give out from the sudden adrenaline, Oliver dropped back into his seat. "So… Rue and Hannael, are they also..?" Cadoc shook his head.

"No, they both have died. You and I are the only ones who are not dead." Oliver put a hand to his forehead, "but I delivered food to her.. in Rawlin. Did I deliver food to a ghost? Can she even eat?"

Despite himself, Cadoc laughed and shook his head. "I can't traverse earth myself; no physical form to do it. However, I can give a little bit of my power to others, give them a body to go in my stead. Mortals need much less magic to maintain themselves you see." He explained as he sat down across from Oliver.

"I… guess that makes sense. So, all the people we walked by and the reason for the weird buildings are.. the dead.", he mumbled, trying to think through what he was learning. "But I still don't understand. From everything I've read and been told, I… why are you here? If you aren't dead? What happened?"

With a glance toward one of the blurred pictures in the room and a heavy sigh, he turned. "I suppose you have a right to know. It doesn't surprise me none of them have told you what happened."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the dark, almost inky-looking, haired groom sat beside his now wife, he couldn't help but grin. He may have struggled nearly every waking moment to get here, but now that he was sitting at this table with his one true love next to him, he couldn't help but feel his heart almost sing in unspoken elation.

Sure, her parents refused to give him their blessing for eight grueling months, but after those months, their cautious glares softened into tentative gazes, and they reluctantly allowed their daughter, Siran, to marry him.

"Cadoc," he jumped at the clipped sound of the man calling for him, a gravelly and heavy-sounding voice that matched Siran's features in the most minute ways, down from the bend of her nose to the way her lips quirked when she smiled.

"Malthe," he said breathlessly. The man's eyebrows furrowed almost unnoticeably when his name fell from Cadoc's lips.

"Yes. May we talk before we continue with the dinner?" Cadoc could only wordlessly nod, standing up with an unsettled sigh.

"How about we go inside for a moment?," he suggested, the older man nodding in agreement.

The two left the banquet, walking into a separate room most likely meant to be used as a foyer, the awkward silence between them eating up the newly wedded man standing before his now father-in-law. "What's wro-"

"I would like to ask you to please divorce Siran." Cadoc could almost hear the cracking and crumbling of his heart as he stood before Malthe, shock slipping onto his features almost instantaneously.

"What?.." The silence that hung in the air after his question answered him before Malthe began speaking.

"Siran, she... She doesn't deserve someone like you. She deserves somebody who can, and will, love her and keep her safe." Malthe continued, "and I do not believe that you are fully capable of supplying that for her..."

Cadoc stood; the air that had begun to cool the sweat on his skin started to feel thick and laden with emotion that he couldn't begin to decipher.

"I understand that you may think that, but Siran trusts me, as I trust her. Therefore, since you have no further control of her life, I will not." The older man paused, eyebrows raising after a few moments after his sudden rebellion.

"No… Ah. I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand. You mustn't say no. If I must get outside authorities involved and tell them what you are, I will, but I will not have my daughter marry and have children with someone bearing a curse like yours."

Oh. So that's what this whole matter was truly about. Another individual, scared of what he was and taking only that part of him into account, declaring him a monster just simply because of his heritage. Did they treat his mother this way, too? That indecipherable feeling returned tenfold this time. Cadoc could feel his throat tighten as tears welled in his eyes, though they did not fall.

"Oh. Very well, then. Just... Let the current marriage papers process, and as soon as they are confirmed, I shall request the form for divorce." Cadoc forced out, surprisingly well-composed, for the news that he'd just received.

Malthe nodded and, without another word to his unwilling son-in-law, left to return outdoors, leaving Cadoc standing inside.

The man stood there for a while longer, letting the tears roll down his cheeks in a failing attempt to soothe his aching heart and burning throat.

Once he'd composed himself and the burning in his eyes turned to a dull ache, he returned outside, slipping on a hollow smile that Siran could distinguish from his real one a million miles away, yet didn't question as he halfheartedly participated in the festivities.

Not long after, a man Cadoc only vaguely recognized stood and tapped his glass to gather the party's attention. He cleared his throat before he spoke. "I would just like to say congratulations to the new couple. I never thought I would see a monster get married to such a beautiful woman, but here I am." He started, pausing, and grinned slightly as an influx of voices began to rise. "Cadoc, a descendant of Marat, the one who takes away our loved ones, walks among us, and we let him? We don't punish him for ripping us away from those we care about?" He spoke, his grin dropping to stare down Cadoc's shocked expression. "I'm not scared of you, monster. I won't let you hurt us anymore."

Cadoc's face had paled considerably, the glass he held slipping and shattering on the floor. He stood quickly, knocking his chair to the ground as Siran got to her feet as well. She moved to touch him, trying to calm him from the disrespectful villager.

Cadoc's breath heaved as he stared at the man before him. His hands clenched, the temperature dropping suddenly. He felt as if he was not in control of himself, only watching. Siran gripped the sleeve of his suit worriedly, calling his name in hopes of returning him to the present, but to no avail. He ripped his arm from his wife's grasp, storming toward the stranger, who stood his ground nervously.

How dare he. Who did this man think he was? Coming to his wedding and ridiculing him during what was meant to be the happiest day of his life. He deserved to be punished.

Cadoc grabbed the man, shirt in one hand and chin in the other. His hands were unnaturally dark and cold as ice, sending shivers down the stranger's back. "You're not scared? Well.. How about now?" An unnatural smile crept onto his face, tilting his head in glee at the man's fear. The man began to gasp for air, his skin paling and sinking in on itself as if the life had been sucked from him. Partygoers began to scream, rushing from their tables and looking for an exit as the lights started to flicker and shatter. Siran screamed for Cadoc, pleading for him to stop.

The shadow beneath Cadoc's feat grew, spreading and reaching like tendrils toward the other people as if it were alive. It swallowed everyone and everything in reach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cold. Cold. He was cold. And yet, there was a fire lingering under his skin, burning his veins as it flowed through him. What was it? What happened? Why was he so cold? As his eyes opened, he could feel the protests from his body, burning and aching, the light hurting his eyes. As the sun beat down on his skin, he still couldn't help but feel chilled to the bone as the fire was snuffed out.

It was silent as death; not even the chirp of birds could be heard around him; the only sounds were the wind and the distant rustling of trees.

Wrong. This was wrong.

The last he remembered was the reception after his and Siran's wedding ceremony. He was happy, and she was glowing, her benevolence sticking out against all the cruel and conniving guests. And now, there was no cheer, and the only light he could feel was the sun's fading rays above him. Was he alone? Where was she? His light, his peace?

Once the lingering cold surrounding him had mostly faded, he willed himself to sit up and figure out what had happened. He wished that he hadn't. The shiver returned, only stronger this time. Instead of chilly fingertips and goosebumps, he could almost feel the frostbite setting in, like stepping out into Antarctica during winter in shorts. His hands fumbled to find solace and ground himself by grabbing the grass, only for him to feel it crumble beneath his fingertips. It was dead. Grey, lifeless, and cold, just like he was.

Cold.

Did he cause this?

No.

The lifeless corpses of animals and bugs surrounded him. The dead grass that he was now sitting on was decomposing around his feet; he could feel it as it withered away beneath him. No. No. No. Siran. Papa. Mom. Where were they? Were they okay? Were they alive? They had to be somewhere. They had to be okay. They were all that he had. The moon and stars in his night sky. The sky couldn't live without the stars.

He scrambled to stand, throat aching and burning as it began to close in panic. "Si–" He coughed, throat dry. But he needed to know if they all were safe. If she was safe. "Siran!" He called, voice weak and scratchy. Where was she? Maybe the garden? She'd always loved the flowers as they bloomed during this time of year, which was why their wedding was planned around the blooming flowers.

He began to walk, and as he did, all he could feel was fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. Fear for Siran's wellbeing, fear of himself. He was a monster. A murderer. He couldn't even deny it now. That's all he was. An angry, monstrous murderer.

As he reached the gardens, he called once more. He didn't have to finish before he saw her, and finally, he froze. Whatever remaining warmth that resided within him was thrown straight into the wind. He'd found her. There she was, his sun. His usually warm, shining star, so dim and cold. He'd done this. He hurt her. His cold darkness had engulfed her light. And she was paying the price. Burning throat and frostbitten legs forgotten, he began to run. To his fading light.

"Cadoc," she began, letting out another labored breath. He was here. He was okay.

"My star," he began, voice wobbling. "Are you okay?"

"I don't think so, my love."

And those six simple words tore him apart. He was losing her, "No…" and then the tears truly began, the warmth starkly contrasting with his ice-cold skin. He could hear her breathless, airy laughter, though it was no longer filled with the same radiance that it normally was.

"I don't believe that is our choice, my love. Death," she took in a shuddering breath, and that only managed to egg on the overwhelming guilt and regret he felt. "Is not ours to control."

He knew that. He knew it better than anyone. Born to the Guardian of Death made it starkly clear. He had no control over it. "I don't want you to go..." he choked out, tenderly grabbing her hand. Even as she was leaving him, she was still warm. Warmer than his darkness. "No one… no one else has ever given me a chance."

She smiled. Even now, as they were forced to depart. Her hand squeezed him, and he could feel her comfort even without words. He found it almost funny. Even in her last moments, she was taking care of him. "I... I don't know what you saw worth saving..." He paused, letting out a weak sob, voice now wet with tears. "In something as horrible as me." Her grip slowly began to loosen. It shattered him. He really was losing her. And coming to that awful and horrifying realization hurt more than anything.

"I will never forget the love you gave me." There it was again, that dazzling smile. This time, he couldn't help but return it, weak and shaky as it was.

"You'll always be my twilight, Cadoc..." she whispered. "I love you." This time, her words were stronger, more assertive. And he laughed softly, bringing her hand up, kissing her palm softly, then placing it on his cheek.

"I love you." He began, finding solace in the feeling of being so close to her. She let out a breath, her smile growing faint.

In a split-moment decision, he moved so that her head could rest on his chest as he hugged her close. He moved his head so that he could softly kiss her hair, taking in a deep breath as he pulled away.

She smiled. She was leaving him; he could feel it. The coldness seeping into her usually warm hands and the slowing of her heart. And yet, he didn't want to let go. He couldn't, not of the only thing that has ever made the darkness break into a beautiful dawn.

"I love you, Cadoc.." she mumbled, words almost inaudible if it weren't for him being so close. He used a singular hand to guide her chin up, placing a gentle peck on her lips, smiling mournfully. It's a shame that the light and darkness always had to be separated, no matter where and when.

"I love you too, Siran. So, so much."

And just like that, the sun had finally set. He whispered her name, choking on his words. Thunder rattled the sky above his head yet fell on deaf ears. "Answer me, please. Don't-… please, don't leave." He shook her gently, calling her name again. "Wake up, please!" Raindrops landed on his head and down his shaking shoulders. As the sky broke open, so did his heart. He pulled her head to his chest, turned his head to the sky, and screamed. He cursed at the world, at himself. Why did this have to happen? It wasn't fair.

Even when his tears ran dry, the rain kept pouring. He sat there on the ground for hours, knees soaked in mud and mind exhausted. He heard his name called, but he made no move to react. A pair of feet entered his vision, and he didn't have to look up to know it was Marat. "I don't know what happened. There was a man, he... I got so angry."

Marat bent to his level, moving Cadoc's soaked hair from his face and placing his hand on his grandson's shoulder. "It's alright. You don't have to explain. I'm so sorry, Cadoc." He sat with him momentarily, mulling over what to say before deciding the boy had suffered enough. "I have to help her and the others move on. I'm sorry." He gestured inside the reception room. "Your mother is still alive, but she's weak. Go and help her while I work here, alright?" He placed his hand over his grandson's, who complied after a moment. Cadoc kissed Siran's head one last time, whispering a goodbye and telling her he loved her before letting her go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marat led Cadoc down the strange halls, the latter looking disheveled and completely drained. He left his jacket and tie behind, the suit making him feel claustrophobic in his guilt. Marat glanced at him with a sigh. "The others are not aware yet, except for Briony, what with the animals and such…" He trailed off for a moment, sure Cadoc knew what he meant. "It'll be difficult to keep the situation under control. But if we choose our words carefully, maybe we can get through this without much of a fight." He placed his hand on Cadoc's back, who only nodded slightly in response. He couldn't bring himself to do much aside from walking.

The two entered the assembly room, all Guardians already in their places save for Marat's empty seat. Caelum nodded to him, not greeting him in the usual way due to the circumstances. Zera spoke, startling Cadoc to attention. "Why have you brought this child here? Humans are not permitted here; you know this." Marat stepped forward, unconsciously shielding Cadoc from her. "Seeing as he is my grandson, this instance might constitute an exception. There… was an incident. One that may require intervention on our part." Zera gestured to a nearby slab on a pedestal before answering. "Show us. We will deliberate after." Marat gently ushered Cadoc to the side, who found himself standing near the other Guardians. He tensed, terrified of what he'd see as he watched Marat place his hand on the slab.

Once his hand made contact, veins of color burst from under his hand, traveling down through the floor and up to the wall. The colors swirled and shifted until Cadoc saw himself, forced to watch again as the stranger heckled him until he could take no more. Only this time, there was no blacking out. A hand over his mouth, he watched in horror as the image of him sucked the life out of everything in the area. He didn't dare turn to see the others' reactions, but he heard the sounds of surprise as he turned his gaze to the ground. He couldn't watch anymore. Marat pulled his hand away, sparing everyone, including Cadoc, the sight of him mourning Siran.

As the images on the wall dissipated, the room erupted into panicked voices from the Guardians. Marat did his best to calm them down, but his gentler voice drowned easily in the noise. Zera didn't allow it for long, standing from her chair with wings spread out, speaking at a volume she hardly ever used. "Enough! You are all dismissed. Marat and I will discuss this further by ourselves. We will reconvene later." She joined her counterpart in the center of the room as the rest exited. Marat placed his hand on Cadoc's shoulder. "Wait just outside for us." Cadoc nodded, biting his lip as he left the room. He had only been in the Guardians' home a few times, but never on his own. He stood close to the door, hoping to hear them even though he knew he might not like what he heard.

"Zera, you know that isn't fair! He's practically a child! He's still learning to-." Zera turned quickly, an intense expression on her face. "Marat, you misunderstand your place. Do not mistake me for being merciless, but that child must be punished. You seem to forget yourself. You know very well the humans will kill him without second thought. Be thankful we are discussing this at all." She sighed, watching Marat run a hand over his face. "Of course, I know that. But I'd much rather we just……"

Cadoc grimaced at the realization; he was a dead man either way. He breathed a laugh through his nose at the thought that maybe he wouldn't be separated from Siran for as long as he thought. He sighed, deciding he didn't want to listen anymore. Hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned to see who was there.

Stalking toward him was the most temperamental of the Guardians, Aideen. "Who do you think you are?! A massacre! Killing all those people, are you crazy? What were you thinking, doing something like that?!" Aideen was in his face, backing him into a wall.

Cadoc shook his head frantically. "It's not like that, I swear! It was an accident; I couldn't-"Aideen cut him off with a harsh laugh. "That is such a sorry excuse! What kind of accident is that? After all the training Marat supposedly gave you, there's no way you had no control of anything. I haven't even seen any remorse from you, actually." Cadoc opened his mouth to respond, but Aideen grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him closer before he could. "I don't know what they plan to do with you, but you better hope that it-" They stopped as the glow of a familiar warmth lit up their faces.

Zera sighed, relenting. "Very well. He will be contained here while we deal with the aftermath in Rawlin. Then we will decide whether –" Her sentence was cut short as they both turned to the hall in a panic at the sound of Cadoc's screams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cell was quiet. Cadoc had been granted a new shirt, and his wrist was shackled, connected to the wall by a chain long enough to give him a decent range of motion. He tensed at the sound of footsteps, praying it would not be Aideen again. He visibly relaxed as Caelum came into view. Of all the Guardians, he was closest friends with Caelum. He often visited for flying (which Zera only allowed if he was not spotted) but usually spent most of his time there with Cadoc.

Cadoc raised his head, looking up at Caelum from his spot on the floor. The blonde cringed, seeing for himself the angry red burns dancing across Cadoc's arms and face and disappearing into his shirt. "Wow… Aideen really went off on you..." Cadoc sighed and gave a halfhearted shrug. Every movement in his upper body ached. "Zera healed what she could." He had been told that, unfortunately, even she could not mend his injuries completely, and he would be left with scars.

Caelum rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well... they won't be allowed to participate in this whole situation anymore, so you don't have to worry about seeing her again." It was clear there was something more he wanted to say, adding to the tension in the room. Cadoc didn't answer for a minute, letting Caelum stew in his anxiety until the silence was broken. "I know you didn't come for just that. What is it?" Caelum's shoulders dropped, and he gathered himself to answer.

"Did you really… mean it?"

"What?"

"Did you really mean to kill all those people?"

Cadoc straightened despite the burning ache. "Are you serious? You know me better than that."

"I know, but..." Caelum shook his head, "What if… I mean, not many of them treated you very well so…"

"What are you trying to say?" Cadoc grit his teeth and forced himself to stand.

"What if… on some level, deep down, you wanted to? Have some kind of revenge, you know?"

This time, Cadoc shook his head. "That's ridiculous. Even if I did, you think I would have acted on that?"

"Right, but- m-maybe it wasn't conscious?" He backpedaled, trying to explain and not anger Cadoc further.

"I can't believe you. You said you weren't scared of me, that you trusted me!"

"I do! But just give me a straight answer! Did you want to hurt them?!"

"If you don't stop, I may hurt you!" Cadoc warned, masking his fear of the returning cold sensation in his hands.

"What, like you hurt Siran?" As soon as the words left him, Caelum wished he had never come to the cell in the first place. Cadoc stared at him, mouth open as several emotions shifted across his face.

"…Get out."

Caelum raised his hand. "Cadoc, I didn't- "

"Get out!!" He jerked forward, held at bay by the shackle on his wrist. Caelum jumped back, giving him a sad look before turning and vanishing from view. Only then did Cadoc slump back down to the floor, covering his face in shame.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the time came, Marat was the one to retrieve Cadoc. That also meant he was the one who had to bind his grandson's hands—word had spread of Caelum's conversation, and how it had ended, so Zera deemed it necessary as a safety precaution. Marat was worried. Cadoc had not spoken, an intense look on his face. Something had changed, or even broken, in the time since Caelum spoke to him.

As they entered the main room, Marat stopped Cadoc in the center, then moved to sit in his spot. Only one seat remained empty- Aideen's. Zera sat in the center, staring at him for only a moment before she spoke. "Cadoc, you are charged with the murder of 32 humans, with the exception of your mother, who did not perish. This court has found you guilty and has decided your sentence. You are granted mercy and, therefore, will not be put to death."

Marat sent a relieved smile to Cadoc, who did not even glance in his direction. "You will be stripped of your physical body and banished from the mortal world. You will spend your existence in the underworld with the dead." She paused, something like sadness flashing across her face. "We are sorely disappointed. You should know better… Do you have anything to say before you are banished?"

Cadoc lifted his gaze from the ground to lock eyes with Zera. "You have no right to feel disappointed of what I did when you were the reason it happened. Don't act like you have nothing to do with it. You're the reason I ever had these cursed abilities, but you all treat me like a monster. So, what would that make you?" He laughed at her expression of shock. No one had spoken to her with such disrespect. "I'm a better person than any of you could hope to be. I'll show you. Maybe then you'll see how wrong you are." Cadoc growled. Zera gave him one last look, any remorse for his fate gone, and sent Marat to take him away.