Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

By the time Blitz realized he had a spot of blood on his boots, he was three pints of ale down at the tavern and feared that if he were to try to wipe it off, he would fall flat on his face. No one was paying attention anyway, as everyone else was full of more than three pints.

Then again, most of the small village of Liatris Grove spent their nights in the tavern than in their own beds. As a younger imp, Blitz had been part of the rambunctious crowd. He had his fair share of scorned lovers laughing and drinking around him that made him cringe at the memories. He knew he couldn’t keep himself on that path if he wanted to keep a roof over his head and a new pair of boots every few years.

It had been a long day at the butcher shop where Blitz apprenticed under the local butcher, Joe. Blitz was handy with a knife, and the work went fast, but the chilly October air made for dreams of afternoon naps curled under a soft blanket in front of the fire, not surrounded by the smells and sights of meat.

Fizz, his oldest friend, sat beside him at the bar with his sister, Barbie, on his other side. They had shared a loaf of bread with freshly churned butter and found that the heaviness of the wheat did not help with their exhaustion. The trio were tired from their days and spoke little between them. Fizz was an entertainer at a fancy tavern in the big city, but in his plain trousers and simple sweater, he just looked like good ol’ Fizz. Barbie was a seller at a market stall in town, and Blitz knew she had a rough time closing up as she still wore her seller’s apron over her patchwork dress.

All three could feel the incoming cold deep in their bones. Winter was on her way, and the harvest had begun. They would stay busy up to the first snow.

The tavern was loud, and Blitz didn’t even want to be there. The small home the three of them shared was just down the lane a few houses down the village square, and he imagined he would spend much less money just drinking from their own storages, but Fizz had insisted. We haven’t gone out in ages, he had begged, it’s my only night off and then I'm back to the city tomorrow!

Yet here they were, and none of them were having fun.

“I’m sorry, boys, but I’m too damn tired,” Barbie confessed as she set her mug down and threw her shawl over her shoulders. “I’ve got an early morning delivery of produce, so this is the last for me.”

“Yeah, me too,” Fizz sighed, futzing with a loose sweater thread. “I’m sorry I dragged you both down here. I’m ready to go.”

Blitz nodded, drained his mug, and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his long leather coat. “I suppose. You got the tab, Fizz?”

“Fuck no,” Fizz chuckled. “Three-way split.”

“Wait a second,” Barbie pointed at Fizz. “You admitted you dragged our sorry asses down here. Looks like the bill is on you, fancy pants.”

“Do my pants look fancy to you?” Fizz tugged at the plain cotton trousers that were patched in a few places with fabric Blitz had snipped from old blankets.

“I’m talking about the shiny, magical ones in your closet from your stupid boss.” Barbie crossed her arms.

“Mammon isn’t stupid, and my pants aren’t magicked because magic isn’t real!” Fizz stood up. “You are just jealous I have fancy pants and you don’t.”

Blitz groaned as he stood between them. Their nights out usually ended with any combination of the three getting into an argument about something, but that was just the nature of them growing up together and finding a way to survive the world together. It was never crushing or cruel, just three poor imps communicating quickly, as time was never often on their side. They might as well get all the issues out as soon as possible so they can go about their days and nights on friendlier terms.

“How about we-” Blitz was going to suggest drink-and-dash-ing when a ruckus from the back of the tavern caught their attention.

Far too many demons were inside, and it was hard for them to see what was happening. The candles only provided so much light, and much of the large building was in shadows. Liatris Grove mainly consisted of imps, but they had their share of taller folks, like hellhounds and a wandering succubus from time to time, and it was hard to see over them.

They heard another loud ‘No!’ and the inner instinct to save each other from the wrath of a folded belt snapped as the three jumped from their stools to the back of the tavern.

Everyone was too drunk and didn’t care about the tall avian demon pushing himself away from a shark demon.

“Come on, pretty little thing,” The shark demon tried to grab at the avian again. “Why do you have to be like that? It’s just a kiss. Don’t cost you nothing.”

The avian smacked the shark demon’s hand again and turned to leave, but the shark grabbed the avian’s waist and tugged him closer.

All the imps had to do was look at each other to know exactly the plan. Blitz snuck left of the avian while Barb snuck right of the shark. Fizz, on the other hand, moved forward.

“Bobby!” Fizz hollered just loud enough to catch the shark demon’s attention.

The shark demon looked at Fizz, then the avian demon, and then back to Fizz.

“Yeah, you son of a bitch, how are you doing?” Fizz laughed in that horrible stage laugh he did during his shows. “Get over here!”

“Heh,” The shark awkwardly said, pulling the other demon tighter. “I think you got the wrong guy, pal.”

“Oh shit, you are right,” Fizz corrected. “Not Bobby, shit, what was it again…Donny!”

“No,” He said, letting go of the avian. “You know me, Fizz, my name is Chaz-”

That was all they needed because the moment he let go of the poor sod, Blitz grabbed the bird’s hand and pulled him away as Barbie jumped onto the shark demon’s back and pulled him to the floor. Blitz was too focused on getting the poor sap whose hand he held out of the tavern, but he trusted that Fizz was quick to help Barbie get the jackass under control.

Although they didn’t always see eye to eye, the three were family. They only had each other, and that was all Blitz could ever need.

Blitz led the avian demon outside into the crisp autumn night air. The crescent moon was still bright, and the wind was low. He could smell the leaves as they broke down to the earth and the rich smell of fire from the brick houses along the lane. The stars twinkled above them, but they were little help beyond being something for Blitz to look at as he pondered his days.

He had done this routine enough to know to bring the demon behind the tavern while Fizz and Barb pushed the asshole out. He pulled the stranger to the bench overlooking the small garden where Sallie Mae, the tavernkeeper, grew herbs she infused into her spirits. Every now and again, she would give him a bottle for free, but he had a feeling that was more because he had spent so much time at their house since Joe was her father.

“Fuck, that guy was such a dick!” Blitz joked as he motioned for the stranger to sit down.

Now that they were out of the mess, Blitz finally had a chance to examine the poor fella. Avian, or any out-of-town demons for that matter, seldom made their way this far from the city. This was fine with Blitz because most city folk wanted far more of the village than it could offer. This demon, in particular, looked quiet and a bit shocked from the whole scene.

The avian demon appeared owlish, with blue-gray feathers and a large set of brilliant red eyes with a smaller set further up. He wore a golden moon pendant that fell against his soft chest fluff that poofed up from his dress. His hips were wide, and his limbs were long, but the emerald green dress with a checkered overskirt flowed down his body nicely. A small leather purse clung easily from a dark belt around his waist, which Blitz could only see because his heavy wool cardigan drew up as he placed his face in his hands and groaned.

“Hey now, you don’t gotta be embarrassed and shit,” Blitz told the owl. “Assholes like that are always around.”

“You don’t understand,” The owl said in a soft, muffled voice. “I knew better than to accept that horrible man’s offer for a date, yet… oh, I’m so mad at myself!”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Blitz kindly suggested. “Be mad at Chad for being a grade a cunt.”

“Chaz.”

“Might as well be a fucking Chad,” Blitz snickered, and his cheeks grew warm when the stranger let out a small chuckle that grew into a loud hoot.

The owl was cute when he laughed. His eyes crinkled, and he blushed prettily. Blitz knew if he wasn’t careful, he very well could want to make him laugh again. No, this bird was a distraction and a disaster waiting to happen.

“Thank you,” The owl said when he caught his breath. “I am embarrassed I didn’t handle it sooner. I think he just caught me off guard. I will make it up to you and your friends.”

“Don’t mention it,” Blitz said. “We don’t like seeing people taken advantage of is all.”

The owl grinned, and fuck, Blitz did want to make him laugh again. Instead, he held his hand out.

“I’m Blitz, by the way,” Blitz introduced himself.

“You may call me Stolas.”

Stolas placed his hand in his, and Blitz watched as their hands clasped. Stolas’ fingers were long and thin, and Blitz wondered what they would be like placed against his face, running down Blitz’s hips, scratching down his back…

“Are you new around here?” Blitz asked to take his thoughts off of Stolas’ fingers. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“We certainly haven’t,” Stolas said, his hand still clasping Blitz’s. “I would remember someone like you.”

It had been a while since Blitz had someone express their interest so openly, and he was so relieved he picked it up. The owl’s hand was cool in his own, and Blitz could feel his pulse against his wrist. The moon was shining down on them as if encouraging Blitz to go ahead and give it a try.

The three mugs of ale certainly helped with his bravery.

“Aren’t you smooth, birdie,” Blitz teased, bringing his free hand to Stolas’ cheek. “What about me would you remember?”

Stolas looked as though he was about to answer, but Barb's voice, so much like Blitz’s own, rang out the ‘all clear’ signal (it was literally her calling out ‘all clear!’ and Blitz knew they had to get a better codeword.)

“I should be going,” Stolas said as he stood. “I’ve already taken up too much of your night.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Blitz really thought this was going somewhere good. He searched his foggy mind for a bit of cleverness he knew he had, but the way the stars sparkled against Stolas’ eyes steered him away from sanity.

“Can I walk you home?” Blitz asked, and the hand still clasped in his tensed.

Shit, too forward.

Blitz tried to cover for his mistake. “It’s just dark out, and you never know what kind of creepers like Chaz are out. Or something even creepier, like ghosts or witches or something. Samhain is right around the corner, you know. Never know what scary shit is out in the woods at night.”

Stolas giggled as though Blitz had said something amusing but quickly composed himself.

“Thank you, but I should be fine,” Stolas said. “Neither I nor the moon fear Chaz or anyone of the sort. Perhaps, though, I shall run into you again soon.”

Blitz personally didn’t think the moon had feelings, but he didn’t bother commenting on that since Stolas said he hoped they met again.

“I’d like that,” Blitz agreed.

Saying fuck to patience, Blitz brought Stolas’ hand to his lips and left a small kiss. It was cheesy as all fuck, but the owl did not pull away. When Blitz looked up at Stolas, his pretty blush was a scarlet red, a shade that went beautifully with his dress.

Stolas took his hand back slowly, placed it to his chest, and waved before turning towards the village center. Blitz watched Stolas walk away, his long tail feathers swaying with each step until he was too far down the lane to be seen. Barbs and Fizz found Blitz shortly after and nearly had to drag his ass back to their little home.

They didn’t ask about Stolas, which was fine with Blitz, as he wasn’t even sure what to say. Fizz would make fun of him for saying that it looked like Stolas’ eyes held the stars they all wished on, and his hands could probably weave the very fibers of this world into something new because Blitz didn’t actually fucking know if that was true. Barb would say he was talking nonsense, but Blitz didn’t care. He needed to know more about Stolas.

***

The next morning, the three imps headed off to work. Barbie threw on her seller’s apron, Blitz pulled on his heavy boots, and Fizz dressed up in a sparkly jacket that glittered against the sun. Fizz made the three of them strong coffee with cream, and they held the clay mugs in their hands to help warm them from the chilly, frosted morning.

They left their little house on the lane to walk to the center of the village, where Blitz would go to the butcher shop, Barb to the market stall, and Fizz to catch a cart to the city. Surrounding the village was a forest alight with autumn colors and, just beyond that, rolling hills and valleys. It was a beautiful little village where nothing strange ever really happened.

Except, speaking of strange, everyone stood in the village center, crowding around something Blitz couldn’t make out until they got closer.

It was a stone statue that hadn’t been there the night before.

“Doesn’t that kind of look like Chaz?” Barbie asked.

It did look like Chaz. It even had his stupid toothy grin. It was certainly an eyesore, and by the end of the day, the village decided to drag the heavy thing out into the woods where no one could see it.

What was even stranger was that no one in the village ever saw Chaz again, and they all hoped he would eventually show up so they could tell him to take his stupid statue somewhere else.

Chapter Text

Blitz seldom remembered his dreams. Since dreams were just something he didn’t often have, he didn’t really miss them. He was happy he didn’t have the horrible nightmares he did as a younger imp, but most mornings, he woke feeling a little more empty than when he went to bed.

Any other night, he slept with no concerns in his little bed across from the window in his tiny attic room on the second floor. No one bothered him as Fizz and Barbs slept downstairs, household noise did not wake up, and he rose with the sun. It would have to take something extraordinary to pull him from his slumber.

Which, as it turned out, would be the soft touch of a kiss against his forehead.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw a mass of gray feathers and the shiny reflection of a moon pendant against his face.

“What the hell!” He yelled against the darkness, and whatever hung over him tumbled backward onto the floor.

“Sorry!” A squeaky voice cried. “My apologies!”

Blitz scurried to the top of his bed but didn’t need to turn on his gas lamp with how bright the moon shone in his room. He nearly knocked over his cold mug of water and had to steady the table before he woke the entire house.

“Stolas?” Blitz asked.

It was Stolas, the owl he had met the weekend before. He no longer wore the dress but a lacey pale green tunic tucked into a high-waist rich brown skirt. On top of his head was a wide-brimmed dark green hat that led up to a long point. He still wore the dark leather belt, but now several pouches of varying sizes were dangling from it.

“What are you doing here?” Blitz asked, feeling much calmer, knowing it was the friendly stranger.

Only, Stolas wasn’t a stranger any longer. He was an owl who freely gave Blitz his name and held his handshake far longer than he needed.

“I did not know you were a light sleeper,” Stolas whispered, but his eyes were clearly focused on something lower than Blitz’s face.

Blitz followed his gaze and remembered that he liked to sleep a bit freer than most. Luckily, the blanket was still pulled up to his bare waist.

“I’m not,” Blitz said as he tugged on his long sleeping gown and repeated his earlier question. “What are you doing here?”

Stolas stood from the floor, his hands fidgeting and not looking at Blitz.

“I know this appears terrible because…” Stolas searched for the word but eventually sighed. “Because it is terrible. I should have waited until morning, but I wanted to thank you for the help you provided to me the other day.”

Blitz shook his head. “I said it wasn’t a big deal-”

“But it was,” Stolas interrupted. “It was an incredibly big deal to me. You showed me such kindness that I’m not entirely sure I deserved.”

“I would have done it for anyone,” Blitz said truthfully. “Also, it wasn’t just me. Fizz and Barb helped out, too.”

Stolas nodded. “I know, and I am paying their kindness back in full. It is only that I did not know what to give you and thought… well, I wanted you to feel as good as you made me feel.”

Stolas pulled a small sachet from his belt. The delicate fabric had pretty little flowers embroidered on it. The sachet smelled pretty, like the fancy lotions Fizz put on his muscles when his pains acted up. Stolas looked down at the little package and held it out to Blitz.

“It isn’t much, but the dried herbs and flowers help with dreams,” Stolas said. “I know it might seem silly, but I would like you to have a peaceful night.” Stolas took another step and then stopped. “May I place it under your pillow?”

Never in his life had Blitz ever had someone ask to place something under his pillow, so he really didn’t know what the right thing to do in this situation was. The moonlight shone behind Stolas, illuminating his feathers around his heart-shaped face and casting him in a white light. Small white pupils stood out in his eyes, almost pleading with Blitz to let him do this simple task.

“Are you gonna kiss my forehead again?” Blitz asked.

“Well… I…um-you…I…” Stolas took a moment to take in a breath. “The kiss helps set the intention of the herbs. I crafted the blend, and by pressing my intention against you, the properties should follow. Chamomile and lavender are not persnickety enough to demand more than a simple kiss. So… If you shall allow it, I would.”

Blitz grinned as he snuggled back down in his bed. “All I needed was a yes, you silly bird.”

Stolas’ talons tapped against the wooden floorboards as he walked to the side of Blitz’s bed. Blitz watched the owl stop just short of his bed, and it was almost as though he was glowing. Demons didn’t just glow all willy-fucking-nilly, so it was a stupid thought.

“Please close your eyes,” Stolas asked.

“Sure,” Blitz said, soaking in the image before him. “Anything you say.”

He closed his eyes, hoping that this was just some weird foreplay, and felt Stolas’ hand slip the satchel under his pillow. A moment later, those long fingers that had captivated his mind all goddamn week gently settled below his horns. Then, Stolas left a small, quick kiss against his forehead.

For some bizarre reason, this was unlike any kiss Blitz had experienced. Immediately, he felt a sense of warm pleasure, like when Fizz placed warm towels to soothe his aching muscles or Barb made him hot apple cider on a cold evening. It was the feeling between sleep and wakefulness, a hazy, almost dizzy sensation. It was as if Stolas had put a spell on him.

Which was absolutely ridiculous, and yet…

“Hey, Stolas,” Blitz said, his words heavy and dragging. “Weird fucking question, but are you some sort of witch?”

No answer.

“Stolas?”

Nothing.

“I was just kidding. Don’t go.”

Blitz pried his eyes open, which was far more difficult than it should have been, but Stolas was nowhere in sight. Blitz’s door was still shut, and he hadn’t heard him leave that way. He managed to look out the open window, but that would be silly since Blitz was on the second floor.

Off in the distance, just as Blitz felt himself give in to sleep, he saw the outline of a small barn owl flying far away toward the moon.

***

For the first time in years, Blitz had a dream.

He was in a large meadow on his back, looking up at the stars. Under him was a dark violet quilt, and dried bundles of herbs and flowers were placed around him. Candles glowed above him even though there was nothing to hold them up. The moon was full and so bright, yet it did not burn his eyes. The trees were nearly bare of their leaves, but the air smelled warm and alive.

Everything felt so heavy.

“Where am I?” He slurred.

“Safe and sound.”

A weight landed in his lap, and Blitz followed the source of the voice with his eyes even though it was a greater task than it should be. Stolas was straddling his waist, wearing a gauzy deep blue robe with stitched golden stars flowing from his shoulders and bunching around his knees. The brilliant feathers were visible where the robe shifted from Stolas’ body, leaving Blitz with the impression that Stolas wore nothing underneath the nearly transparent delicate cloth.

The circle of candles still hovered above them.

“What are we doing?” Blitz asked as he tried to grab Stolas’ hips and groaned in frustration that he could not move.

Stolas bent at the waist, his thighs tightened against Blitz’s body, and cupped Blitz’s face with his hands.

“Sleep, my darling.”

“You fucking bet I will,” Blitz murmured and remembered no more.

Chapter Text

Apparently, autumn was the season for new faces in Liatris Grove.

Blitz woke up later the morning after Stolas’ nighttime visit. So much later, in fact, that he was very late for work. He quickly threw on his trousers and his coat, managed to brush his teeth with a tooth powder, and rushed out the door, still lacing his boots.

The butcher shop Blitz worked at was just across from the market stall Barbie ran, which meant that Blitz caught sight of the first new arrival before he even had a chance to start his workday.

The succubus was tall with rose-tinted skin, posy pink hair flowing down her back, tall horns with black tips, and a set of wings. She wore a short white slip with a long, lacey dress with ruffled sleeves over it. Her long tail was weaving along the market stall and falling far too close to Barb’s hand.

Barb’s hand weaved over to the succubus’ tail, and her mouth curled in a far too-flirty smile.

Blitz had to put an end to this now.

“Gooood morning, dear sister of mine!” Blitz called out as he skipped over to Barbie. “How is this fine October morning treating you?”

Both Barb and the strange woman turned their focus on him.

“Blitz?” Barbie’s eyebrow rose. “What are you-”

Blitz interrupted her.“I was just watching from across the street at my shop. You know, the one just over there-” Blitz pointed across the center, past the strange burnt spot where that weird statue of Chaz had been, “-where I can see your market stall at all fucking hours of the day from alllllll fucking angles. You know, that one?”

Barbie did not look impressed.

“What do you want?” Barb snapped. “Can’t you see I have a customer?”

The woman smirked at Blitz, and he felt the spines on his back raise defensively.

“Sure, yeah, great,” Blitz said, nudging his way against the stall and pushing the stranger to the side. “It’s been so long since we had a good twin-to-twin chat. I sense you are feeling stressed.”

The stranger tsked.

“Only now that you are here,” Barb growled.

“And I know that because I can always sense your emotions. Always.” Blitz leaned over the stall to pull Barb close so he could whisper to her. “Give me the signal, and I can get this bitch out of the village so fucking fast.”

“Ugh, go away!” Barbie pushed Blitz off of her and away from the stall. “Aren’t you late for work?”

A loud whistle that only Joe could make pulled Blitz’s attention. Blitz was late, and he really couldn’t afford to piss Joe off and lose pay since winter would be rolling in soon. He gave one last glare to the stranger before heading to the shop.

The rest of the morning was spent staring out the window, cleaver in hand, as he cycled between butchering the last of the late summer cows and trying to look as menacing as possible.

The stranger did not seem to mind as she stuck around the stall all morning, chatting with Barb and getting closer and closer by the second.

It wasn’t that Barbie couldn’t take care of herself because she certainly could, but Blitz noticed at a young age how folks looked at Barbie just a little differently than how they looked at him. It was almost like how folks looked at Fizz when his illness sparked up, and he had to use his cane. Perhaps they could smell what they thought was vulnerability or perhaps a perceived weakness that wasn’t really there.

Either way, Blitz always felt that he had to run to Barbie and Fizz’s defense before all else, even if they didn’t want to defend.

“You are getting distracted,” Joe huffed at the table beside him. “Keep up.”

The succubus was still there when Blitz took a lunch break a few hours later. Blitz took off his apron and fully intended to interrupt their discussion when another oddity caught his eye.

Fizz was already back, which was incredibly weird because Fizz usually stayed in the city during the week when he worked at Mammon’s.

Mammon’s was a big tavern in the city that had employed Fizz as a jester for several years. That had all been fine and fucking dandy until Fizz had his first episode of muscle weakness, and his asshole of a boss didn’t provide the time off that it took for Fizz to heal. For now, Fizz trudged through and suffered for it. Blitz knew it was only a matter of time before Fizz’s illness made it so he couldn’t work at all, and Mammon was milking Fizz’s talent for all it was worth before that happened.

This meant that Blitz was awfully confused as Fizz walked through the village center on the arm of a very tall blue avian demon dressed in a frilly suit and top hat.

“The fuck?” Blitz murmured and turned heel to catch up with Fizz.

The closer Blitz got to the large demon, the more he could make out his features. He had rooster-like qualities, but his face was almost vibrant neon—big city colors, not ones that could be found in their little village. Fizz was laughing at a joke the demon made in his actual laugh, not the stage one he put on for strangers.

“Blitz!” Fizz called when he spotted him, letting go of the demon’s arm to hug Blitz. “I quit!”

Fizz smelled like the lotion he used on his legs when they were acting up, and Blitz held onto Fizz’s arm when he pulled away from the hug. It didn’t seem Fizz noticed with how big his smile was. It was even brighter since he wasn’t wearing the tight clothing Mammon made him wear; instead, he wore a soft blue sweater and overalls with tiny flowers embroidered in a chaotic pattern.

Blitz took a moment to register what Fizz had said before responding. “You quit? Really?”

“Yes!” Fizz said, nearly stumbling but righting himself quickly with Blitz’s help. “Don’t worry about money because I already have a new job!”

Blitz blinked a few times before he looked behind Fizz at the giant rooster, who whistled awkwardly to the side.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Blitz motioned to the demon.

The demon stepped forward and held out his large hand to Blitz. “Asmodeus, but my friends call me Ozzie, and since you are a friend of Fizzie’s, you are a friend of mine. I take it you are the famous Blitz I’ve heard so much about?”

Blitz shook the very large hand in his before pulling Fizz to his side and away from the rooster with the excuse that they needed to talk in private for a moment. Once they were as private as Fizz’s legs would allow (leaning against the wall of the butcher shop), Blitz let all his questions flow out.

“Ok, so who the fuck is that guy really? Are you fucking him? Did he employ you? Cuz you shouldn’t be fucking someone who is your boss, Fizz, you know that. Is he making you fuck him? Because if he is, I’ll tear his fucking feathers out one by fucking one and shove them so far up his ass that-”

Fizz placed a hand over Blitz’s mouth with a laugh. “Calm down, tiger, no need to show your big bad fangs.” Once satisfied Blitz was going to keep his mouth shut, Fizz continued. “I met Ozzie a few weeks ago while at Mammon’s. We started talking, and as it turns out, Oz was looking for a break from the city life and wanted to move out to a quieter space to work on his inventions.”

“Inventions?” Blitz cocked his eyebrow.

“Oh yes, inventions!” Fizz looked like a child seeing fireworks at a solstice celebration for the first time. “Ozzie makes steam-powered machines. It is so cool, Blitz. He has shown me some of the stuff he’s created, and I think it will be big. He is a genius.”

Fizz’s eyes went soft as he sighed, and Blitz knew that look too well.

“You are fucking him,” Blitz accused.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t!” Fizz snapped, smacking Blitz’s shoulder.

Blitz groaned. “Fizz, you can’t work for the guy while doing that!”

“I’m not working for him,” Fizz said firmly. “I’m working with him. As in partners.”

Blitz spared a glance at Ozzie, who acted as though he was very interested in the burned mark where the stupid statue had been, although Blitz knew the fucker was eavesdropping.

“I don’t know, Fizz,” Blitz said quietly. “I don’t trust this guy.”

“You don’t even know him!” Fizz pushed himself off the wall, steadied himself, and then turned to Blitz. “I’ve been stuck in Mammon’s grasp longer than I ever wanted. Do you think I’m that stupid to fall into someone else’s trick?”

“No offense, but from where I’m standing-”

“Don’t say another word,” Fizz poked Blitz’s chest. “I don’t want to hear it. Maybe have a bit of trust in your oldest friend. I don’t need you to baby me.”

Fizz walked away, but he didn’t have to go far before Ozzie was by his side, offering his arm for stability. Blitz watched the two happily stroll away as though they didn’t sense the doom that lingered in Blitz’s chest. It only grew when, later that afternoon, he saw Barbie close up her stall early and walk hand in hand with the succubus stranger to the tavern.

Blitz didn’t understand who all these strangers were and why they wandered into their little village and took hold of the two people who meant the most to him. It had only been the three of them for so long, and he didn’t know if he could trust these two strangers with their hearts.

“Woah, Blitz, watch it!” Joe shouted.

Blitz looked down at the cleaver to find he hadn’t been cutting anything other than air and wood counter, even though he could have sworn he had just been trimming fat off a flank.

“Got your head in the clouds?” Joe teased but then sighed. “The change of the season is hard on everyone. Let's call it a day.”

Blitz was more than pleased to hand his apron off when Joe offered to wash it after he cleaned up his workstation. There was nothing for Blitz to do with Barb at the tavern with the pretty stranger and Fizz going on his romantic stroll with whatever-his-name-was. So he threw on his long jacket, wrapped his scarf around his neck, and strolled through the forest.

The forest surrounding his village was as pretty as a storybook. Little woodland critters frolicked among the fallen leaves, preparing themselves for winter. Deer trotted in the distance, eating the last of the summer grass. The sun shone down on the yellow, orange, and red leaves, painting a perfect atmosphere for a crisp autumn hike.

Yet Blitz didn’t feel peace at all. Instead, he felt like garbage.

He didn’t understand how his world turned upside down in a matter of a day. The fear of loneliness already struck him. What if Fizz moved in with Ozzie and stopped wanting to hang out? What if Barb became lovestruck with the pretty stranger and started spending every moment with her? What if Blitz was stuck in their shared home completely alone?

The thoughts plagued him so much that he didn’t realize he had stumbled off the normal trail until he heard the sounds of chickens.

“What the fuck?” Blitz whispered as he stopped short of a cottage he had never seen before.

The cottage was made of brick and dark wood. Smoke billowed from the chimney, and the flicker of candlelight could be seen in the windows. To the right of the cottage was a plentiful vegetable and herb garden, and to the left was a chicken coop where a dozen or so chickens pecked at the ground.

The door to the cottage opened, and Stolas emerged. He wore a wool brown skirt, a cream blouse, moon pendant, and a wide-brimmed green hat. He hummed to himself a lovely tune that stopped when he spotted Blitz.

“Oh, hello,” Stolas greeted him. “I didn’t think I would see you today.”

“Um, hey,” Blitz returned the greeting. “Is this your place?

Stolas looked around the small property and nodded. They looked at each other for a long while until Stolas finally cleared his throat.

“Where are my manners?” Stolas embarassedly giggled. “Would you like to come in for tea?”

It wasn’t like Blitz had anything else to do with Barb and Fizz busy, so Blitz accepted the offer. Stolas led him back into the little cottage, and Blitz wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this.

The cottage was a large single room, but it was very clear that Stolas made use of every inch of space. Half the cottage was just bookshelves with books, jars of dried herbs, and other trinkets that Blitz wasn’t sure what they were. The walls that were not bookshelves were dark green and either covered in dark shelving or lined with portraits of the stars. A kitchen was tucked into the back left of the cottage, and on the right was a large bed with dark violet bedding.

“Cozy,” Blitz said, sitting in one of Stolas's high-backed wooden chairs. A folded crocheted blanket served as the cushion.

“Thank you,” Stolas said as he took a kettle from a large fireplace and poured the hot water into a lavender teapot. “It has taken a few years to feel comfortable, but I am quite happy with what I’ve managed.”

“No way you’ve been here a few years,” Blitz challenged his statement. “I would have remembered you.”

Stolas grinned. “What would you have remembered?”

Already, Blitz felt more at ease with the repeated flirting. Stolas left for a moment only to return with a pint of cream, a sugar jar, and a plate of pastries. Once the tea was brewed, Stolas poured a cup for Blitz before himself.

“How did you sleep?” Stolas asked, and the events of the night returned to Blitz.

“Like the dead,” Blitz said. “Almost as though whatever you put in that pouch was more than some smelly flowers.”

Stolas stopped mid-sip and set his cup down. “Ah, yes, I was worried I made it a bit too strong.”

Blitz set his cup down, too, and leaned on his elbows against his knees. “So, what fancy herb did you put in there?”

Stolas crossed his legs. “Just chamomile, lavender, and my intention.”

“And ‘intention’ is what kind of plant?” Blitz asked.

“No, no, not a plant. Just my… well, just my intentions for what I would like the blend to do.”

Blitz remembered Stolas saying something about intentions, but he just thought it was random nonsense. Stolas seemed like the type to roll around in random nonsense.

“Ok, fine, keep your secret flower to yourself,” Blitz smirked. “You can’t just ‘wish’ things into the universe.”

Stolas grinned. “But you can.”

Blitz rolled his eyes and picked up the teacup again. “Getting pretty close to cuckoo there, Stolas.”

“Not at all.” Stolas scooped a spoonful of sugar into his teacup. “I put all the necessary ingredients together and focus on what I want the outcome to be. It is really quite simple. Just a manner of following a recipe.”

Stolas stirred his tea, and the spoon clinked against the porcelain. Blitz turned his attention away from the cup and back to Stolas.

“Why would you go through all the trouble of giving me a good sleep?” Blitz asked. “Seems like a lot of work for something that might not happen.”

Stolas brought his hands together in his lap, his grin growing even wider. “It would happen because I made it happen.”

Blitz laughed, nearly sloshing the tea from his cup. “Life doesn’t work that way, sweetheart. You can’t just want to do something, and then it happens.”

“Oh?” Stolas said, the soft clinking of the spoon against the teacup filling the silence until he continued. “Anyone can do it with little studious effort and practice. For example, I wanted my sugar stirred into my tea but didn’t want to tire my hand to move the spoon. Yet…”

Stolas brought his hands up from his lap to under his chin as he stared at Blitz, but that wasn’t what forced his eyes to grow wide. No, it was the sound of the spoon still clinking against the teacup. He hadn’t noticed something odd about the spoon stirring without Stolas guiding it.

Or, maybe Stolas was guiding it, but not with his hand.

The question he had posed to Stolas the night before sparked back in his head.

“I have to go.” Blitz stood suddenly, his own teacup still in his hand as he refused to look down at the stirring spoon.

Stolas quickly rose, stuttering out an apology and a plea for Blitz to stay, but there was no way he could do that. There was no way he was spending another moment in this cottage, but as he turned to leave, the teacup in his hand shattered.

“Fuck!” Blitz cried out, a sharp edge slicing through his palm as the hot liquid and shards fell onto the floor.

The cut was deep, and his blood quickly flowed from the wound. Stolas leapt from his chair and took Blitz’s bleeding hand, holding it tight even when Blitz tried to pull it back. Strange words left Stolas’ mouth as he pulled a vial of liquid from one of his many pouches. He pulled the cork off with his beak and poured the thick substance smelling of yarrow and garlic over Blitz’s wound.

Blitz hissed when it touched the wound but quickly dulled to an ache. Stolas spread it around gently with the tip of his finger, then pulled a handkerchief from his belt and wiped the mess away. Blitz risked a quick look at what would surely be a deep scar to find…

Nothing.

No blood, no wound, and no sign at all that there had been an injury. Stolas, instead, sighed and placed a gentle kiss on where the wound had been.

Blitz wanted to scream.

“There,” Stolas whispered lightly. “All better.”

Blitz was certainly going to scream.

Instead of screaming, though, Blitz pulled his hand back and raced out the door. Stolas did not call for him to stay, which Blitz was grateful for because he had no clue what he would do.

***

Fizz and Barbie didn’t come back that night. Blitz ate his dinner alone, prepped for the next day alone, and then went out to their small back garden Fizz tended to smoke from a pipe. He was trying to kick the habit, but it wasn’t going well. He sat down on the little bench, lit the pipe, and drew in a breath of the burning herbs.

Intentions is what Stolas had said, hadn’t he?

Things were changing with the season. He could sense it around him. The fear of where he would be in a year heavily loomed over him. What if the pretty stranger stole Barb’s attention and her time? What if that big cock took Fizz under his wing and away from Blitz?

What if Blitz was alone? How did all this change in less than a day?

He looked up to the stars and let go of the sharp breath he held. All he wanted was for Fizz and Barbie to be happy. It's the only thing he had ever asked for. He just never expected he was what was keeping them from that.

Movement in the woods drew his attention.

Somewhere far in the trees, moving so silently that if Blitz hadn’t caught the motion, he wouldn’t have noticed at all, was a tall, graceful figure. The figure moved as soft as moonlight and wore a long, silky robe of darkness with soft gray and blue stitching to mimic wings. Blitz only noticed this for the figure was followed by a circle of lit candles floating around their head.

A soft humming traveled with the figure, a tune Blitz had heard earlier in the afternoon…

Blitz wasn’t sure if Stolas noticed Blitz watching him as he traveled deeper into the forest until the floating candlelight was too far to be seen. Blitz had a pretty good suspicion that the owl had something to do with the sudden upheaval of his life, and he would figure out why.

Chapter Text

The following day, Blitz woke with a determination to figure out just what the fuck Stolas was doing.

It was the start of the week’s end, and the wind was bitterly cold. He did not have to be at work today, for it was a day for chores and rest. Except, from the looks of it, it would be done alone.

Barbie and Fizz’s chores were already finished before Blitz woke up, and they were nowhere to be seen. At least Barb had left a note in scribbled handwriting:

Got a surprise last night. I already put it away in the cupboards. Going to show Verosika around town. Feel free to eat the pie she made. It isn’t poisoned. -BB

Blitz put the note down and opened the cupboards. Inside were dozens upon dozens of jars of preserved vegetables and fruits. Curious, Blitz opened the box where they kept grains and found it full to the brim. He even took a moment to look down into the cellar to find even root vegetables, salted meat, and a big bin of apples.

“The fuck?” Blitz whispered as he picked up the note again to reread it.

There was no indication of who left the food at all. He doubted it was Ozzie since the man didn’t look like he had ever had to can a pint of anything before. Verosika, maybe, but that would be too much work too quickly.

Which left only one choice.

Blitz sighed and looked at the note for a third time.

So the pretty customer’s name was Verosika. There was no note from Fizz about his whereabouts.

“Cute,” Blitz said stubbornly and looked at the pie.

It smelled like caramel apples, and as much as Blitz didn’t want to eat it because of what it signified, no one was around to watch him be petty. So he wrapped up the pie, grabbed a glass jar of cream, and brewed a strong pot of coffee. He placed it all in his little picnic basket. He then wrapped himself in a long, granny square scarf that Fizz had crocheted when he had to work on his finger strength after his flares. He almost left before remembering to grab the knitted spade cover for the end of his tail that Barbie knitted.

Then, he was out the door to Stolas’ cottage. He avoided the main street as he didn’t want to get stalled in his quest. He slipped out the backdoor and followed the woodland path deep into the forest. The wind was wilder than usual, and he dug his face deeper into his heavy scarf.

The morning was still early, so few folks were exploring in such blustery weather. The trees were becoming more bare each day, and soon, they would be covered with ice. For now, he would not think that far ahead. For today, he would get answers.

It took longer than he hoped to find the cottage again, and his tail was getting cold even with the spade cover. When he finally found the dark wood and brick cottage, he was more than relieved, but that calm did not last long.

The chickens were clucking up a storm, and Stolas did not answer his knock.

“Stolas?” Blitz called out as he circled the cottage. “Just wanted to pick up where we left off yesterday. About the whole the fucky spoon thing?” Only silence returned his call. “I brought pie.”

One of the chickens, a brown little hen, pecked at his ankle. Blitz cursed and had to stop himself from kicking the damn thing across the yard. Instead of violently assaulting his ankle again, the chicken walked up to the front door and pecked at it until it softly swung open.

“This is breaking and entering,” Blitz told the chicken. “You know that, right?”

The chicken clucked and walked into the cottage. Blitz shrugged and followed, telling himself that if Stolas got upset, he would blame the other bird.

The cottage was freezing and dark, and it was damn near impossible to see anything with the heavy curtains closed. The fire was out and looked like it had been that way for most of the night.

“Stolas?” Blitz called out. “Where are-oh shit.”

Only when his eyes adjusted did he find Stolas huddled on the large bed, his knees to his chest, his body shaking. Blitz set his basket down and raced to the bed but halted before his knees touched the mattress.

Stolas was in a loose white dress slip nearly translucent due to what could only be sweat. His eyes, all four of them, were closed, but Blitz knew he was alive from the soft whimpers.

“Stolas?” Blitz asked because he didn’t know what else to say or do.

Stolas moved his head lightly and managed to open his eyes, although it was apparent that it pained him.

“Blitz?” He croaked. “What-”

Stolas cut off his sentence with a groan and pulled his knees tighter to his body. A fresh glean of sweat was across his forehead, yet he shook as though he was freezing.

“Fuck…” Blitz murmured, and as he had always done when Barb or Fizz were ill, he sprung into action.

First, he put his hand to Stolas’ forehead and was surprised to find that he did not have a fever but was nearly as cold as ice.

“We have to get you warmed up,” Blitz told Stolas.

Stolas let out a pathetic hoot but didn't argue, so Blitz took Stolas under the arms and gently moved him to the top of the bed so his head rested on the pillows. His whole body was so cold it felt like he had been dunked in ice water.

Before putting the quilt over Stolas, Blitz wiped away the chilliness from Stolas’ brow, only to see that when he pulled the white handkerchief away, this was not sweat—or at least, not any sweat Blitz had ever seen, for it glittered like stars reflected in the clear creek and dried as blue as Fizz’s delphiniums.

“Just-just magic,” Stolas muttered. “It won’t hu-hurt you.”

Blitz wanted to throw the handkerchief down and flee like he had done the afternoon before, but he couldn’t leave Stolas in the way he was. Even if the guy was clearly messing around with his life.

“Why are you leaking… um…?” Blitz asked as he wiped away the last of the… well, whatever Stolas wanted to call it.

“My own fault,” Stolas whispered before falling back into a pained sleep.

Blitz wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he finished cleaning Stolas’ face and pulled the quilt over him. He couldn’t leave him in a dark cabin like this, especially with how chilly the nights were getting, so he started the fire back up. Then, because he knew the bird liked tea, he set a kettle on.

Then he remembered the basket he had brought and figured he might as well get a cup of coffee and take a seat while the kettle warmed.

“Does this happen often?” Blitz asked the chicken.

The chicken clucked: “Not in a good long while. The thing about Stolas is he has been alone for a long time, not countin' us chickens, and he is thrilled to get to know ya. He might have overdone it last night, but it's only because he thinks he ain’t any good at talkin' to ya and knows folks always like a gift or two. Only he don’t know when to stop. I supposes he is lovestruck, and ya better be all Stolas is hopin' for, otherwise, us chickens are known to peck out sensitive parts of wicked demons, so mind yer step.”

But Blitz couldn’t speak chicken, so all he heard was some clucking and squawking before the chicken strutted out the door.

“Hm,” Blitz tsked and sipped his coffee until the kettle whistled.

He poured some hot water into a basin, folded a hand towel, and soaked it in the hot water. After squeezing out the water, he moved his chair to Stolas’ bedside and laid the towel on Stolas’ feathered forehead. Stolas stirred but did not wake.

“I don’t quite understand you,” Blitz whispered. “If you are a witch like you say, why are you wasting your time on me?”

Stolas didn’t answer, and Blitz didn’t ask again.

***

The rest of the morning and into the late afternoon, Blitz spent keeping Stolas warm and wiping away the… well, fuck it, the magic that slowly trickled out from his body. Stolas stayed asleep, only whimpering every so often. Blitz kept the kettle on, pumping more water from the well out back so he could make him a fresh pot of tea when Stolas would wake.

But Stolas did not wake.

By nightfall, Blitz had already made the decision he was going to stay. Barb was probably dancing with Verosika at the tavern, swirling her around like she did with all the other pretty boys and girls she tried her hand with. Fizz, that romantic son of a bitch, would undoubtedly be too busy planning out his wedding to the near stranger he already seemed to be shacked up with.

Not like anyone would be waiting for him at home.

He ate the pie for dinner because he wasn’t certain about the food in Stolas’ cottage. He weighed his risk of possibly poisoned pie or accidentally eating something that turned him into a lizard or something. He chose the pie, which annoyed him even more because it was delicious.

After wiping away another round of magic from Stolas’ forehead, he went out back to feed the chickens. The brown one that let him into the cottage earlier squawked: “You are a good lad, but I don’t trust ya yet. We are all watching you.”

Again, Blitz had no idea, so he just told the chicken to eat up before heading back inside. He got the fire going again, blew out the candles to save on wax, and realized he had no idea where to sleep.

He could easily snooze on the highback chairs, but he knew he would get his horns stuck in the arms and end up scratching them all up. There was no way Blitz could afford to replace them.

Blitz contemplated his options, glancing over at the very large bed with only a sliver taken by a sick owl.

“I will keep my clothes on and sleep over the covers,” Blitz told Stolas.

Stolas did not respond.

“No funny business,” Blitz murmured as he removed his boots and jacket, leaving his trousers and undershirt on. “Unless you wake up and… no, goddamn Blitz, get your shit together.”

Blitz crawled onto the bed, moving carefully without shifting the mattress too much to disturb Stolas. He knew if Stolas woke up with no explanation as to why Blitz was in his bed, there would be some explaining to do.

But then again, Stolas seemed to be as into Blitz as Blitz felt for Stolas… at least as much as he thought he was? Was Blitz still into Stolas after finding out what happened yesterday? Blitz pondered this as he watched a single drop of magic fall from the corner of Stolas’ eye.

“Are you sick, or are you injured?” Blitz asked. “I can probably heal injured, and I can tend sick, but I haven’t the foggiest idea what to do here.”

Blitz’s mama used to talk about magic in the same way any other mama talked about magic. Fairy tales at bedtime, superstition to teach, and folklore to learn. Mama had taught him how to care for others, and he would do that for Stolas.

Stolas whimpered in his sleep and furrowed his eyebrows.

“You can’t be sleeping too good right now,” Blitz sighed, and the idea sparked. “I don’t know anything about magic, but lavender does smell nice, so maybe that would help.”

Blitz looked above him at the bundles of herbs hanging down and sniffed until he found one that smelled similar. Then he looked around for chamomile but couldn’t quite remember what that smelled like, so he just stuffed the bundle of dried lavender under Stolas’ pillow. The brittle flowers broke and scattered across the sheets.

“There.” Blitz rubbed the remaining lavender from his hands. “That should help you get some rest.”

Blitz expected Stolas to look more at ease, perhaps a little less in pain. His face relaxed, but his chest did too. In fact, his chest stopped moving altogether.

“Stolas?” Blitz whispered, and then more loudly. “Stolas!”

Stolas did not answer, wake, or move. He was utterly still.

“No, no, shit,” Blitz hissed as he scurried up to his knees and placed his ear to Stolas’ chest. When he heard nothing, he shook Stolas. “Wake up, Stolas. This isn’t funny.”

Stolas’ body moved with his with no resistance.

“Wake up!” Blitz cried. “Please wake up.”

A minute passed, then another, and then a third. Blitz fell into a deep silence, a dreadful fear of this reality.

Blitz felt his eyes well up with tears.

A mixture of sorrow and shame circled him. He had just met Stolas. They had perhaps three conversations at most. Flirty but nothing profound. Nothing for Blitz to feel this despair over.

Blitz rested his hands over Stolas’ heart, hoping he could feel his heart thud again, and laid his forehead over his hands.

Fuck, he regretted not sticking around the day before. Perhaps he would have known better about what ailed Stolas, or maybe he wouldn’t have been out in the woods.

Blitz lifted his face towards Stolas to see him still in an unwavering peace—no breath, no movement.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you,” Blitz whispered. “I would have really liked to.”

Keeping his hands over Stolas’ heart, Blitz leaned down to kiss his cheek.

Two things happened then very quickly.

First, Blitz felt a sudden shock, what he could only describe as the first plunge into chilly water, that pushed him up and away from Stolas.

Second, Stolas sat with a gasp and clutched at his chest. A brilliant golden light stemmed in his chest as though he was holding a fallen star.

“Fuck!” Stolas cried as he tried to catch his breath. “I didn’t know… you could have told me you could do that! Would have saved us both this trouble.”

“Do what!” Blitz shouted back as he scooted as close to the opposite side of the bed as he could.

Stolas looked down at the light as it slowly faded from his chest. For someone who had been dead only a moment ago, he looked very much alive. The hollowness surrounding him had become whole again, his cheeks round and his eyes sparkling in the golden glow.

“Gift your magic to me.”

“Give you my what?” Blitz stuttered. “I can’t give you shit. I don’t have any fucking magic!”

Stolas’ eyes glanced downwards, and Blitz was fool enough to follow. Blitz’s hands were outstretched, and it was only when Blitz paid attention that he realized that chilly feeling still lingered there.

Blitz already knew that when he looked, there would be a light mimicking Stolas’. He just fucking knew it.

Sure enough, the golden light hovered against his palms. Although bright as the sun, it was as cold as snow. Blitz knew this wasn't just light.

“Magic?” Blitz whispered.

“Magic,” Stolas answered. “And what lovely, beautiful magic it is, too. How easy you wield it. With only a little practice and confidence… dear Blitz, would you like to join me?”

Blitz swallowed hard. “Join you in what?”

Stolas smiled. “In being a witch, of course.”

Blitz did not answer, for it was his turn for his breath to leave him as he fainted against the bed.

Chapter Text

“Mama, what is that?”

“Yeah, Mama, what was that?”

Blitzo thought Mama smelled like cinnamon as he nestled his face against her long, dark hair. Barbie sat next to him on her lap as Fizz, the neighbor boy who showed up one day and never left, slept soundly next to them. Blitz was only six, but he could already tell that the time of both twins sitting comfortably in Mama's lap was coming to an end. For now though, he would enjoy breathing in Mama's scent and feeling her warm skin against his.

“That is a shooting star,” Mama whispered to not wake Fizz. “Whenever you see a shooting star fly across the night sky, you must make a wish.”

“Like for a new toy? “Barbie asked.

“Or apple pie for dinner?” Blitz added.

Mama laughed and pulled them both closer.

“You could,” Mama said. “You could use that chance to wish for what you want most. You won’t see many shooting stars in your days, my sweet loves, so make the wishes count.”

Blitz closed his eyes as he nuzzled closer to Mama.

“What do you want, Mama?” Blitz asked before yawning.

Mama kissed the top of his head. “All I want is for my babies, and I mean even the ones not from my body-” Mama smoothed the blanket over Fizz, “-to be happy.”

Blitz looked at Barbie and then Fizz before he closed his eyes to fall asleep in Mama’s arms. Mama’s wish was a good wish, and he would wish for that, too.

***
Blitz seldom remembered his dreams, but he remembered dreaming of Mama when he woke the following day. Only, he wasn't in their old bed the four of them shared, but tucked under the heavy quilt and the smell of fresh biscuits. He could hear a soft humming followed by the quiet clucking of a chicken as though the hen was singing along.

Stolas was across the cottage in the little kitchen wearing loose linen pants that billowed like a skirt and a very heavy blue sweater. The moon pendant he wore hung low on his chest. The chicken, the same brown hen from yesterday, wore a… well, Blitz wasn’t sure what it was, but he figured it was a sort of chicken-sized apron.

“Yes, I do think raspberry jam would work nicely with this batch,” Stolas told the chicken. “You always have a good sense about these things.”

The chicken clucked back.

“Can you understand the chicken?” Blitz asked.

Stolas turned quickly to Blitz, sending a smidge of the raspberry jam shooting into the air and landing on the floor. The chicken clucked and hopped to the jam, pecking at it with her yellow beak.

“Good morning,” Stolas greeted him.

Blitz didn’t return the good morning because, honestly, he really wasn’t sure it was a good morning. It was a morning, to say the least, and just like when he woke yesterday, he had far more questions than answers.

“Did I bring you back from the dead last night?” Blitz asked.

Stolas blinked rapidly and put the jam spoon down.

“I didn’t die,” Stolas scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

“I would think that because you did die.” Blitz pointed at his own chest. “You need your heart beating to be alive. As a butcher, I would know that.”

Stolas nodded slowly.

“Unless,” Blitz continued. “Witches don’t need a heart?”

Stolas shook his head quickly.

“That is complete fiction, my dear,” Stolas answered. “I, like any other living being, need to breathe. My heart was still beating, just very slowly. Let me grab you a biscuit, and I will explain.”

Stolas did explain as he sat in the chair next to the bed, but Blitz wasn’t sure he understood most of it. Stolas spoke in length about the exchange of magical abilities, conjuring intention and spectral understandings, and the give and take of lunar energies.

Blitz nibbled on the biscuit until Stolas finally took a breath, which then Blitz interjected: “Could you maybe explain that in a way I would understand?”

Stolas blushed. “Right. Essentially, I used too much magic, and my body had to work out the remains before replenishing it.”

“Gross,” Blitz said, unsure if it was actually gross. “You have to die to replenish it?”

“I wasn’t dead,” Stolas corrected him. “Just in a heavy trance, which you quickly pulled me out of with your gift.”

Blitz stuffed the rest of the biscuit in his mouth to stop himself from panicking about what he had done the night before. Stolas waited as though expecting Blitz to, but when he didn’t, he continued.

“Replenishing can take hours, even days, and you allowed me to avoid that entirely, for which I am grateful. It is a very beginner mistake, and I should know better than to push that hard with my abilities.”

Stolas sighed as he crossed his legs, his long fingers fidgeting with his moon pendant. With the biscuit long gone, Blitz had nothing to stop him from asking questions.

“Was it the fruit?” Blitz asked.

“Hm?” Stolas cocked his head to the side.

“All the jarred fruit and veggies and shit,” Blitz shrugged. “I’m assuming you left that on our door.”

Stolas blushed a furious berry red once again. “Oh good, it worked. I was nervous since I wasn’t physically there to see, but I assumed since you stayed with me last night, it was enough to allow the village a few days rest at least.”

“Stolas, my kitchen is bursting,” Blitz said with an eye roll. “We aren’t going to need to stock up like usual. You have no idea how much money and time you saved us.”

Stolas grinned, and the feathers around his neck and face fluffed. He must have been embarrassed as he quickly stood to fill his teacup. The brown hen, still pecking at the jam, made a low noise, and Stolas immediately answered with an ‘Oh, hush you!’

Stolas could understand the damn chicken.

Returning with a second teacup for Blitz, Stolas sat on the edge of the bed instead of the chair. Blitz’s spine raised as he sat on the other side near the wall. He was curious if Stolas was comfortable being this close to him. Which, Blitz supposed, he must be since the chair was still available. By the looks of it, Stolas had also slept in bed last night. The notion that they had shared a sleeping space and Blitz didn’t even remember it would haunt him; he just knew it.

Blitz sipped the tea, pleasantly pleased at its floral sweetness, and sighed. Now was as good a time as any to get into it.

“Magic, huh?”

The little smirk on Stolas’ face gave away how excited he was to talk about it.

“When I first met you,” Stolas started, then realized how much he was shaking with his story and set the teacup down before continuing. “I thought I felt a little something. Magic isn’t very easy to feel unless you know how that person wears it, and the feeling could have just been how the moonlight looked shining down on your-”

Stolas caught Blitz’s raised eyebrow and paused to clear his throat before continuing.

“Anyway, I couldn’t be certain then, but I am now. I can feel your magic inside me, interlacing and weaving with my own. It is so different yet so…” Stolas placed a hand over his heart. “Perfectly lovely.”

Without the heavy dark curtains, the morning light streamed through, encapsulating Stolas in a shimmering glow. Fuck, he was something else, and Blitz wished he could learn what made Stolas so fascinating.

Besides the whole witch thing.

Which, speaking of…

“So am I, like, a witch now?” Blitz asked. “Because that would be fucking something.”

Removing his hand from his heart, Stolas scooted closer to Blitz on the bed until their knees touched.

“That is entirely up to you,” Stolas said. “Most folks live their entire lives unable to harness the glimmer of magic in them. While I won't tell you what to do, I will say your magic is unlike any I have ever felt.”

Blitz’s shoulders dropped. “Do I have shitty magic?”

“Oh, no, no!” Stolas quickly reassured, grabbing Blitz’s hands. “Very much the opposite. Your control is not great, and it's clear you haven’t a single clue what to do with it, but I would guess, with the right training, you could do the most impossible things, my dear.”

Stolas’ hands were gentle in his own, very much like they had been only a few nights before. It was almost enough to make Blitz feel like this was all normal. Although Blitz did not know Stolas well, he could sense the owl had a hard time lying. This meant that Stolas really did want him to explore what lingered inside of him, waiting to come out.

What if Stolas was right? What if he could heal Fizz’s wounds? What if he could make sure Barbie never faced danger? What if he could keep them comfortable and safe for the rest of his days? What if Stolas was right about his magic being something lovely?

Blitz had always wanted to be lovely to someone. Maybe he could be lovely to Stolas?

Wouldn’t that just be something?

“Would you be the one teaching me the impossible things?” Blitz asked.

Stolas squeezed his hands. “I would very much like to.”

“Alright then, silly bird,” Blitz squeezed his hands back. “Make me a witch.”

***

A little after they finished their tea and pastries, Stolas altered a pair of dark linen trousers and a green sweater with a simple swish of his wrist. Blitz stared in amazement as the outfit compressed itself to a shape that fit Blitz.

“Holy shit,” Blitz said as he picked up the clothing. “Does doing magic ever get old?”

Stolas laughed as he headed to the door to give Blitz privacy. “Never.”

Blitz quickly changed and threw his boots back on to chase Stolas out the door. He found him in the vegetable garden, speaking to the chickens.

“I am simply asking that you do not give him a hard time,” Stolas whispered to the brown hen.

The hen said: “I ain’t given him a hard time, but I ain’t given him an easy one neither. I don’t trust the lad yet. It was awfully nice watchin’ him care for ya, but ya know how lads are. I see the way he was lookin’ at ya when he came around the first time. Wild thoughts in his head and his eyes on your skirt.”

Of course, Blitz only heard: “Cluck, cluck, squawk, cluck.”

“I think I am perfectly capable of-” Stolas stopped speaking to the chicken when he noticed Blitz. “Please pay no attention to the chickens. I let them wander around the cottage. They are wonderful at eating the pests.”

The hen replied: “Also wonderful at pecking at lads who don’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Blitz looked at the hen in confusion, for he suspected the hen was speaking to him, but the hen sauntered off when it was clear Blitz was not going to answer her.

Stolas looked around the garden until he spotted what he was looking for. Most of the crops had been cleared away as the season was ending, but a few fat orange pumpkins remained among the autumn vegetables in the patch.

“A little unconventional,” Stolas admitted. “But this should do nicely. When I was a nestling, my first test of skill was seeing if I could pick up my favorite doll using just my magic. Since we have already seen you break things when your magic gets a little out of hand-”

“Um, excuse me, but what the hell did I break?” Blitz interrupted.

Stolas placed a hand on his hip. “My teacup.”

“No, that was you, remember?” Blitz rolled his eyes. “I was trying to leave, but you broke the teacup just to show off your healing skills.”

Stolas’ eyebrows furrowed. “No, Blitz, I didn’t do that at all. I thought you had gotten so upset that you shattered it, but I no longer believe that was the case. Were you known as a destructive child?”

Blitz snarled. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Stolas huffed. “Oh, come now, no need to get feisty. I’m not insulting you. I am just asking if things ended up broken around you often?”

Blitz shrugged. “Well, yeah, I liked to roughhouse, but things tend to break when you do that.”

“But what about when you were scared? Or upset? Or when your parents used strong words towards you?”

Blitz didn’t like to think about this childhood. A drunken dad, an ill mama, three little imps just trying to get through the day doing what they could to keep everyone alright. He thought of when the harvest wasn’t good or a cow got loose, and his dad would always blame it on Blitz even though Blitz couldn’t see how it was his fault.

Yeah, things would break. Of course, bottles were thrown at Blitz or once his arm when his dad pulled at him too hard.

“I don’t know,” Blitz said quietly. “Let's just move on to your test.”

Stolas’ expression turned soft, but he didn’t press. Instead, he quickly twisted his wrist, and one of the orange pumpkins rose from the ground and floated toward them as though an invisible person had carried the pumpkin. Which was ridiculous since invisible people weren’t real. Then again, as of a few days ago, magic wasn’t either.

“A simple summoning spell,” Stolas explained as the pumpkin did a quick twirl and landed carefully at their feet. “A large part of the magic is the intention you put behind it. As long as it harms none, it should be fairly easy to ask your magic to comply. Using tools that will help your magic along provides a stable foundation to any request.”

Blitz looked down at the shiny and bright pumpkin and then back at Stolas. “But what about impact?”

Stolas thought for a moment before responding. “What do you mean?”

Blitz sat on the giant pumpkin, crossed his legs, and placed his chin on his hand. “Consider this, birdie. You gave me a big ol’ gift basket of goodies, right?”

Stolas narrowed his eyes as he plopped down in the dirt, clearly uncaring if it ruined his trousers. “Yes, but I’ve explained I did that to thank you and your family for helping me.”

“I ain’t saying I’m not happy about it,” Blitz held up his hands. “But I think there may be some key details you aren’t thinking about. Where did all the food come from?”

Stolas raised his eyebrow. “Gardens.”

“Whose gardens?”

“Ah, I see,” Stolas said. “My own and local farmers.”

“Did you pay the farmers?”

“I paid them what they would have gotten at the market,” Stolas said. “Also, saving time to jar, package, and sell the items.”

“Sure, but what if you threw off their process by taking a portion out just for me?” Blitz asked.

Stolas shook his head. “What is left for them to process?”

“The rest of the-wait,” Blitz paused his argument. “What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?”

“Did you… Stolas, did you seriously do all the winter prep for everyone?”

Stolas tsked. “Of course I did! Do you think I would get magical exhaustion just from what I provided you? I wanted you to relax, and I assumed that even if you were settled, you would still need to work to provide for your community, which is honorable. So, I made it so that your community had all that it needed. Did you not notice?”

Blitz shook his head. “No, I came directly to your house to ask you what the fuck was going on but stumbled across a dying owl-”

“I was not dying,” Stolas added as Blitz kept talking.

“-and spent the rest of the day making sure he didn’t die. So no, I didn’t know, just like I don’t know why suddenly two new strangers showed up in town and magically fell in love with the two most important people to me.”

“I’m not sure either.”

“Bullshit.”

Stolas clicked his beak. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Sure, like you didn’t break the teacup.”

“Blitz, I didn’t break the-”

“Then how did it break!”

Suddenly, with a loud pop, the pumpkin exploded.

The pumpkin had been strong, but even if Blitz’s weight broke it, the speed and force the pumpkin shattered was beyond what one little imp could do. Blitz landed hard on the ground as the pumpkin innards flew in all directions. Seeds and the stringy pulp landed on Stolas, the cottage, and the little brown hen eavesdropping in the lettuce patch.

The look of shock on Stolas’ face said enough.

“Fuck this,” Blitz cursed as he wiped pumpkin off himself. “Fuck magic, fuck your chicken, and fuck you.”

Blitz stood from the pumpkin mess and stomped out of the garden, past the cottage, and down the forest trail. He heard Stolas asking him to wait, but Blitz was through with this.

He ignored Stolas, and he ignored the embarrassed hot tears trailing down his face.

***

Barbie and Fizz did not come home that night, but he knew where they both were this time. When he got into the kitchen, he found a note in Fizz’s handwriting:

Hey B, we are going to be at the celebration tonight for the end of the harvest. This is the earliest we’ve ever had it! Come find me, BB, Oz, and V! Drinks on Oz! -F

Blitz decided he wouldn’t go. They should have fun, and he would only bring them down.

Instead, he washed in the large tub, scrubbed the pumpkin from the new outfit he knew he should return to Stolas, and then went to bed even though it was only noon. He curled up around himself, his tail wrapping tight to his body, and slept an uneasy sleep.

***

Blitz woke with the smell of lavender and the sound of a festival from his open window. The moon was high in the sky, and a small barn owl sat on his window sill.

“Stolas?” Blitz asked.

In a blink, the little owl was gone, and instead, Stolas was sitting on the window sill in a violet gown, a dark furlined cloak, and a crown of lit candles.

“Hello, Blitz,” Stolas answered as he stood.

It must already be time for Millie and Moxxie to set off their annual harvest celebration fireworks, for Blitz heard the whirl and then the explosion in the dark sky. As Stolas walked towards his bed, bright dashes of brilliant blue light danced behind him.

“Why are you here?” Blitz sat up in his bed, but this time, he did not reach for his nightgown and the cool air caused goosebumps on his skin.

Stolas stopped at the foot of his bed, and the smell of lavender became even stronger.

“I am here to offer you one last gift,” Stolas said, but his voice sounded tired. “I do not wish any anguish on you. While magic is part of me, I understand if you want no part of it. If you ask, I will take the memory from you.”

“What do you mean?” Blitz asked.

Carefully, Stolas lifted the skirt of his dress just high enough for him to kneel on the bed. The gauzy fabric pooled at his knees and the furlined cloak looked like a blanket on the bed, but Stolas kept his distance. Blitz swore he saw the fireworks reflected in his eyes even though he did not face the window. The only other light was the glow from his crown of lit candles.

“I can make you forget what you know,” Stolas offered. “I can’t take the magic fully from you because it isn’t mine to take, but I can help you go back to a time when you didn’t know it existed.” Stolas paused and looked down at his hands as a soft yellow glow formed in his palms. “When you didn’t know I existed.”

Blitz sat up straighter. “Why would you do that?”

Stolas glanced back at him, and the glow disappeared. “Because I want you to be happy, my dear, and if I am standing in your way-”

Blitz wasn’t sure what prompted him to leave the comfort of his quilt to brace the night air in only his night shorts or why he quickly crawled to the end of the bed to cup Stolas’ face in his hands or what the hell gave him the courage to kiss Stolas in the way he had wanted to since they had first laid eyes on each other.

But he knew it sure as hell wasn’t Stolas’ magic.

It could have been Blitz’s, but who the fuck knew.

What he knew was that he was kissing the witch, and the witch was kissing him back. Stolas wrapped his arms around Blitz, his fingertips pressing against his bare back to pull him closer. Blitz kept Stolas’ face in his palms, for he didn’t want to let go yet. Stolas tasted like sugared lavender tea, just like how Blitz imagined he would. Sweet and floral and comforting.

After a time when things felt right, Blitz whispered against Stolas’ lips. “You will teach me magic?”

Stolas grinned at his words. “Yes, I will teach you anything you want to learn.”

“Will you keep this secret?” Blitz asked. “I don’t want to frighten Fizz and Barbie until I can properly explain.”

Stolas pulled away just enough to see his face. “I will keep you secret only as long as you are comfortable and not a moment more. I find it will be hard not to want to be by your side each moment of each day.”

Blitz smirked. “You don’t need to keep us secret, silly bird. Just the little magic thing.”

“Oh yes, the little magic thing,” Stolas laughed, and then he kissed Blitz again and again and again until they both fell against the mattress in each other's arms.

The candle crown was discarded onto the bedside table, but the small flames were nothing compared to the bright golden glow Stolas and Blitz shared between them. Blitz noticed it but was not frightened by how he shined against Stolas. In fact, he tangled them both in it until the light tied them together like a thick rope, making it nearly impossible for them to let go of each other. Blitz nestled his face against Stolas' neck and breathed deep his lavender smell and, strangely, cinnamon.

"You are lovely," Stolas whispered as he threw the cloak over them both. "So very lovely."

They fell asleep holding each other with the noise of the early harvest festival as their lullaby.

Chapter Text

Magic lessons were not as easy as Blitz hoped they would be.

“Focus on the pumpkin,” Stolas whispered into his ear for the hundredth time, his hands on his shoulders. “Remember to project your magic. Ask it to come to you.”

“You told me not to fucking talk,” Blitz hissed.

“In your mind, my dear.”

“Then I’m not talking, am I? I’m just thinking.”

“Don’t be difficult.”

Blitz groaned and tried again to feel the magic but felt nothing. None of the magic he had felt the night before was coming back to him. Instead, he just felt frustrated.

He quickly learned that Stolas, as a lover, was far different than Stolas as a teacher. Having Stolas in his bed was wonderful. They hadn’t fucked, barely even touched each other, but letting his newfound magic dance around Stolas, tangled and interwinding with his, was something he would never forget. Even when they woke, their legs locked together and their foreheads touching, they had done nothing more than smile, yet it was the happiest he had felt with a lover in… well, his whole life.

Now, back in the Stolas’ vegetable garden to avoid any prying eyes, Blitz didn’t feel like smiling one bit.

“This isn’t going to work!” Blitz groaned, throwing up his hands. “I can’t feel it the same way you can.”

Stolas moved away from Blitz’s body and touched his beak as he thought.

“Perhaps we need to start even more basic,” Stolas finally said. “Foundational components. I have some handbooks that I can break down into smaller chunks to-”

“No,” Blitz held up his hand. “Anything but that.”

Stolas crossed his arms. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“I could ask the same thing about you, princess.” Blitz stuck out his tongue. “We have been trying for hours. Maybe a fucking break would be nice.”

“Fine!” Stolas huffed. “I need to tea.”

But as Stolas turned to stomp into the cottage, something flew past Blitz’s head and whacked Stolas in the shoulder. Blitz snarled as he swung around, ready to attack whoever threw something at Stolas, but no one was there.

“Blitz, did you throw a radish at me?” Stolas asked.

Sure enough, Stolas held up a radish in his fingers.

“No, of course not!” Blitz quickly denied such a horrible act.

Sitting unamused by Blitz’s failed efforts, the brown hen said: “I saw him, Stolas. Lad threw that radish at ya with his magic.”

Blitz pointed his finger at the hen. “I don’t know what that bitch said, but I didn’t do it-ouch!”

Blitz looked down at his feet to see another radish bouncing at his feet from where it hit him in the shoulder. Stolas, looking smug, shrugged.

“Wasn’t me, darling.”

Blitz looked to the hen, who didn’t say a damn thing.

“No commentary from you?”

The hen was silent as it strutted away. Blitz held up a finger to accuse Stolas of fighting dirty, but he felt a sudden chill in the tip of his finger. He didn’t need to turn to investigate it, for Stolas gasped and clapped.

“You are doing it!” Stolas said quietly. “Look!”

In the garden patch, all the carrots were no longer fully deep in the dirt but peeking up through the soil nearly a fingertip length. Testing it, Blitz curled his finger, and the carrots slowly followed.

Blitz lifted his hand with a wicked smile, and all the carrots raised high in the air. “You sure that radish wasn’t from you?”

Stolas gasped. “Why, I never…”

Suddenly, every radish, brussel sprout stalk, potato, onion, and turnip swirled around them as Stolas flicked his wrists.

“You wouldn’t,” Blitz challenged.

“I wouldn’t?” Stolas raised his eyebrow. “My darling, I would.”

They would be happy to report no injuries during the great garden battle. When the hen found them later, Blitz and Stolas were covered in soil as they rolled amongst the vines and heads of lettuce, kissing as the rest of the harvest floated gently above them.

The hen tsked: “Ridiculous lads.”

Neither heard her, for they were too busy laughing under an unusually warm autumn sun and shadows of floating vegetables.

***

When Blitz arrived home later that afternoon, Fizz and Barb were waiting at the kitchen table.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Barbie cried as she jumped up to pull Blitz into a hug before letting go. “Where the fuck have you been, and why the fuck are you covered in dirt?”

Fizz hugged him as well, a little less tight than usual as his pale green sweater got covered in soil. “We haven’t seen you in days.”

A tinge of bitterness was on his Blitz’s tongue. “Haven't you both been a little busy with your new eye candies?”

Fizz’s face fell as Barbie rolled her eyes.

“How would you know?” Barbie said. “You’ve been avoiding us.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Blitz replied. “I’ve just been keeping to myself.”

“That’s the definition of avoiding,” Fizz added. “Are you ok?”

Blitz was more than ok. He was wonderful. While still nearly feral and unknown, the magic that flowed through him tickled his fingertips. He wanted to tell them all he had experienced over the past few days. How he had brought Stolas back from the dead (regardless of what Stolas said), how he had made vegetables twirl in the air, and how he kissed the prettiest boy he had ever met.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Blitz answered.

Barbie and Fizz knew better.

“Will you come out with us tonight?” Barbie asked. “Since the weird stuff that happened in the village, we’ve never had so much time to just be with each other. We fucking miss you, Blitz. Plus, I met someone I want you to meet.”

And then Barbie made a face Blitz had never seen before: she looked shy.

Ever since childhood, Barbie was always confident, self-determined, and brave. These traits were something that even Blitz had to work hard to achieve, but they all came naturally to Barbie. Even when she had taken lovers before, she was always the one to cut them loose when she got bored. Now, with a soft blush under her eyes, Blitz realized that Barbie was happy enough to let her guard down.

Blitz turned to Fizz when he asked. “And Ozzie?”

Fizz smiled so wide. “Ozzie keeps asking when you are going to be around. He really wants to get to know you.”

That wasn’t a stage smile. Fizz was happy.

Barbie and Fizz were happy, and it wasn’t because he had been away. Sure, it wasn’t Blitz making them happy, but they wanted him to be happy with them. It wasn’t that they didn’t need him so much as they wanted him to share in what was making them smile.

Blitz’s voice was thick when he spoke next. “Ya know, I actually have someone I would like you both to meet, too.”

***

After a good scrub and dinner with his family, he bundled up and headed back to Stolas’. He had told Stolas he would be back tomorrow, but he couldn’t imagine that Stolas would be upset with his early arrival. It was well after dusk, and everything was covered in a hazy fog.

Blitz heard voices as he rounded the corner leading up to the cottage. He followed the voices through the trees when he realized they weren’t from Stolas and the hen.

He stopped at the treeline and found a familiar-looking meadow. The grass was strangely green for how cold it had been, and in the middle of the meadow was a tall oak tree with orange, red, and yellow leaves.

The full yellow moon cast enough light for Blitz to see the three Goetia figures holding hands before the tree.

The parrot wore a burgundy suit with pearls along the bottom of the jacket and golden buttons. He had large spectacles and wore a crown of autumn leaves. The peacock wore a light blue dress and a white shawl of diamonds. On his head, he wore a crown made of moss, acorns, and twigs. These birds looked out of place like they didn’t belong in this meadow.

Stolas, though, looked like this was the very earth he was molded by. He wore a gauzy, deep blue robe with stitched golden stars. Around his head was a crown of candles.

The three chanted in a low voice together, and Blitz wasn’t quite sure what he had stumbled upon but watched in awe as their clasped hands glowed. Blitz couldn’t be sure how long this went on, but their chanting stopped at the same time, and Stolas let go of the other's hands.

The parrot pulled the peacock close, and they kissed, wild and frantic. Blitz watched as the peacock combed his fingers through the parrot’s feathers. They both took a single step back when a sudden light covered them, and they were gone.

“Shit!” Blitz cursed, and Stolas’ head whipped towards the treeline.

“Blitz?” Stolas called out. “Is that you?”

With his hiding place gone, Blitz made himself known. Meeting Stolas near the tree, he finally saw that it wasn’t just the birds in the meadow but a strange setup. They had been standing on a dark violet quilt with bunches of what looked like the hanging bundles of Stolas’ flowers and herbs around them.

“What were you doing?” Blitz asked, standing just outside the quilt.

The wind picked up momentarily, and Stolas's gauzy robe danced behind him, exposing his bare legs.

“We were giving thanks to the moon and the magic that she provides,” Stolas said. “Vassago and Andrealphus join me once a month here to show our gratitude. They then leave to give thanks in a way only lovers can.”

“Why would the moon care about that?”

“Because lovers often express their strongest desire under her gaze,” Stolas answered. “What can be more magical than that?”

Blitz’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you do after the other two leave?”

Stolas stepped to the center of the quilt. “I give thanks alone here at my altar.”

The magic in Blitz’s center sparked, asking for Blitz to fucking use it. Blitz wasn’t sure how he knew what the magic wanted, but he simply did.

“Alone, eh?” Blitz asked.

Stolas took another step to the edge of the quilt and held out his hand. “I’ve never had someone to share in this ritual. Perhaps, if someone should like to join me…”

His magic burned colder, prickling at the ends of his fingers. He wasn’t sure what to do with it, but he knew he had to do something. Only when he touched Stolas’ hand did his magic hint at settling, and Blitz knew then that Stolas was his catalyst, his guide, and his calm.

“I want to show gratitude with you,” Blitz said as Stolas guided him onto his back on the quilt. “Every night, I want to show the moon what I think of you.”

Stolas made a strange noise, almost like the call of an owl, as he nestled down between Blitz’s legs on the quilt.

“More importantly, I want to show you what I think of you,” Blitz said as Stolas’ fingers unlaced the front of Blitz’s trousers.

“What else,” Stolas cooed as his hand slipped under Blitz’s pants to grab how of Blitz’s hard cock.

“Fuck,” Blitz hissed as Stolas pulled Blitz’s pants down enough to expose him to the night air. “I want to mix my magic with yours. I want our magic to get so tangled that we can’t pull it apart. I want- oh fuck.”

Blitz lost his words as Stolas took him in his mouth. On instinct, Blitz grabbed Stolas’ feathers along the back of his head, not to push him down but to encourage him.

“I want-” Blitz tried again but moaned as Stolas took the whole of him in his mouth and down his throat. “I want–shit, Stolas, I want to introduce you to my family.”

Stolas pulled off Blitz’s cock with a cough. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Blitz blushed, but he continued. “I want you to meet them. Maybe we could…I don’t know. Get dinner together?”

It sounded so stupid, yet Stolas’ feathers fluffed, and he kissed Blitz again on his mouth, cheeks, and between his eyes.

“Yes,” Stolas said. “I would love to meet them. Anytime. Any place.”

Stolas kissed him one more time before he straddled Blitz’s hips, moving over his cock. Blitz watched in awe as the candle crown Stolas seemed to tear apart, and the candles danced along the periphery of the quilt. The sheer robe he wore bunched around his knees, but Blitz could feel he wore nothing underneath.

“You are safe and sound, my love,” Stolas whispered as he lowered himself onto Blitz. “Join me, Blitz.”

Blitz moaned in pleasure as his cock was engulfed in the warmth of Stolas’ body. Blitz’s hands went to Stolas’ hips, once again not to control him, but to follow along with the motions of Stolas’ body.

Almost at once, the magic in Blitz’s body swirled from him, golden and brilliant, and danced around Stolas’ torso until it met Stolas’ own magic. Somehow, that union felt better than Stolas’ body, but not by much.

There was a subtle intensity to Stolas’ movements, less practiced but more wild, as though chasing pleasure than creating it. That was fine by Blitz because Stolas did not stop him when he thrust up to meet his frantic bucking. In fact, Stolas’ cries garbled.

“More, more,” Stolas cried as one hand grabbed at his feathers and the other reached to the sky.

“Let the world hear you,” Blitz smiled as he felt the tension build in his gut. “Scream your thanks, Stolas.”

Although this ritual quickly tumbled into something rough and hard, Blitz couldn’t call it anything other than making love because that is what he felt in the center of his magic. It was not vicious or unkind but something new.

When Stolas came, he did so with a beautiful cry that was almost like a song. His body shuddered and tensed around Blitz.

“Cum with me, darling,” Stolas begged. “Please, please, please…”

Who was Blitz to refuse such a request?

Later, as they lay on the quilt in each other’s arms, messy and spent, they looked up at the moon. Stolas held his hand up to the sky again, and Blitz saw the shimmering of his magic dancing on his fingertips. Blitz joined him, his own magic dancing until it again sparkled together.

“I think I’ve been teaching you wrong,” Stolas whispered. “I am a being of knowledge and facts. You, my most beloved, are a marvel, for your magic isn’t based on any technical work. No amount of study or teaching will support your growth. You are one of a kind.”

“Then what am I?” Blitz whispered.

“You are led by you,” Stolas answered. “Your magic doesn’t heed your commands because it is simply you. It is no different than your heartbeat. Something instinctual and innate. I suspect now that you know it is there, your understanding of it will be clearer. You don’t need me.”

Blitz lowered his hand to turn Stolas’ face to him. “I still need you.”

Stolas kissed him. “Wonderful, for I think I need you too.”

As Blitz grew sleepy in the autumn night air, he let his mind drift as he stared at the bundle of flowers. From their smell, he knew one set of purple flowers was lavender, but another set, long stems with violet, spiky buds, was a mystery to him.

“What are those flowers?” Blitz asked as he leaned over Stolas to grab a bundle.

Stolas took the bundle to get a better look. “That is the liatris plant. Bountiful in these forests. I assume it's what your little town is named after.”

“Huh, you don’t say,” Blitz murmured as he watched the flower twirling in Stolas’ grasp. “And what kind of magic does that plant carry?”

Stolas put the bundle down, yawned as he stretched, and pulled Blitz to his side. “It symbolizes happiness, my love.”

Blitz smiled. Of course it did.

Chapter Text

Blitz woke up on the quilt in the middle of the meadow at dawn. When he did not feel Stolas beside him, he became concerned, but Stolas’s soft humming quickly soothed his fear. Blitz did not feel the chill, although the ground around them was frosted.

Only a few steps away near the lonely tree, Stolas stood nude under the new light of day. His feathers stood at odd angles, but he looked as beautiful as he always did. Stolas ran a single fingertip down the bark of the great tree, and a sudden wind picked up, taking the last remaining leaves to scatter away into the forest.

“Good morning,” Stolas called over his shoulder.

“Mornin’,” Blitz answered, feeling no hurry to leave the quilt. “Did we do right by the moon?”

Although Blitz could not see Stolas’ face, he knew he was grinning. “I would think that we satisfied her quite well.”

Stolas’ long tailfeathers swished, and Blitz found himself admiring Stolas’ long back, the curve of his hip, and his thick thighs. Last night had been wonderful, but Blitz craved so much more.

If Stolas’ theory was correct, and Blitz’s magic could be as simple as it sounded, then nothing should be holding him back from taking what he wanted…

The trail of magic leading from Blitz’s fingertips scurried across the ground like a winding vine, trailing along until it reached Stolas’ talons and raced up his legs before wrapping around his waist.

“What is this?” Stolas giggled.

“Just me understanding my magic,” Blitz said.

Curling his fingers into a fist, he drew Stolas towards him with his magic. Stolas laughed as he was pulled away from the tree and back onto the violet quilt. Envisioning what he wanted, Blitz twisted his hand, so Stolas turned until he faced away from Blitz. When Blitz lowered his hand, Stolas was directed to stand over Blitz’s face.

“We gave our gratitude to the moon, but what about the sun?” Blitz said. “Seems that fucker deserves some thanks every now and again.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Stolas said.

With a snap of Blitz’s fingers, Stolas was pulled down by the golden bonds. Feeling more magical than ever, Blitz grabbed Stolas’ tailfeathers in his fist and began his work praising the daylight with his tongue between Stolas’ thighs.

***

Much later that morning, Blitz and Stolas walked hand in hand back to the cottage. They were dressed again, and although they didn’t speak, they discovered they didn’t need to. They instead listened to the crunch of leaves under them and the soft song of a barn owl awake far too late into the day.

The cottage was just like it had always been, and the little brown hen clucked as she greeted them. Blitz wanted nothing more than to go into the cottage and spend the day in Stolas’ arms, but he knew he had something far more important to do.

“Stolas,” Blitz said. “Do you have any plans for today?”

Stolas shook his head. “I do not believe so.”

“Since we are both free, would you want to go to town with me and meet Fizz and Barbie?”

Stolas let go of Blitz’s hand only to clap in delight. “That sounds lovely! I want to make a good impression. I have just the outfit to wear!” Stolas raced to the cottage before turning back to Blitz. “Would you like to tea while I get ready?”

Blitz took in a deep breath of the Autumn air. “Nah, you go ahead. I think I will enjoy the day a little longer before we get going.”

Stolas blew him a kiss before gently shutting the door behind him. Regardless, Blitz could hear him humming his little song.

The brown hen, who had watched the whole thing, clucked: “Ya know, lad, I wasn’t too sure at first, but I think ya might be a good egg. Stolas loves very hard, hear me? Don’t go breaking his heart. He is already devoted to ya.”

Blitz sighed. “And I am devoted to him.”

The hen and Blitz looked at each other in shock at the realization of mutual understanding. The hen quickly clucked back to the bare vegetable garden to pick at bugs.

***
Can’t wait to meet your special someone tonight! Six-way split on ale! -BB&F

“What if they don’t like me?” Stolas asked as they stood outside the tavern.

“They are going to love you,” Blitz said, squeezing Stolas’ hand. “I promise.”

How could they not? Stolas looked gorgeous in his long rust-colored dress, wearing a soft knitted black sweater to ward off the late Autumn chill. Of course, his golden moon pendant hung around his neck.

Then again, Stolas could wear a goofy ass hat and romper, and he would still look gorgeous.

“I hope so,” Stolas sighed. “I hope I’m not too dull for them.

Blitz tugged on Stolas’ hand to pull him down to eye level. “Look at me, Stolas. You are funny and kind. You are quick to help anyone in need and incredibly smart. Plus, you know, the whole magic thing.”

Stolas kissed Blitz. “Not like Chaz?”

“Fuck no,” Blitz laughed. “We don’t even know where that fucker went. Would be nice if he showed back up just so we can have him take his stupid statue.”

“Hm, I wonder,” Stolas said, his voice too forced.

Before Blitz could ask what that was about, the tavern door opened, and Fizz stood on the other side. He looked more relaxed than he had in years. Behind Fizz, Blitz could see Barbie at the bar counter paying Sallie Mae for drinks. Verosika sat beside her, an arm around Barbie’s back, and to the left was Ozzie, looking over to Fizz with a soft grin.

“Are you coming in or not!” Fizz teased. “Stolas, right? Lovely to meet you! I can’t wait to tell you every embarrassing thing I know about Blitz!”

Fizz grabbed Stolas’ hand and pulled him out of Blitz’s hold. From the tavern doorway, Blitz heard Verosika yell, “I love your outfit!” and Barbie already teased him about his taste in men. Ozzie had a drink to hand to Stolas as Fizz pulled out a barstool.

They all looked so happy.

A soft, nighttime Autumn breeze flowed past Blitz, bringing in the rich scent of cinnamon. Blitz took a deep breath, nodded, and smiled as he entered the tavern to join his family.