Chapter Text

The Tides Between

Tommy flips through the book, his eyes skimming over the passages as he tries to find the page he’s looking for.

Fae & Fairies, no…Griffins, not that…Potions & Enchantments…

Oh, that’s kind of interesting. Tommy pauses his search for a moment, skimming the contents. Huh. Tommy didn’t release there were that many potions.

Tommy shakes his head, blinking. No, he had to keep looking. He shouldn’t get distracted by some invisibility potions or whatever they’re called.

He keeps searching, chewing on his bottom lip as he flicks through the pages, cursing whoever had owned the book in the past for ripping out the contents page.

Who does that?

Tommy boxes his irritation in, taking a breath as he searches through the pages before finally, finally finding the page he needs.

Selkies.

Page 121

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The Tale of the Selkies: Sea-Folk of Old

In the ancient days, when the world was yet full of mystery and wonder, the folk who dwelt by the cold shores of the northern seas often spoke in hushed tones of the Selkies, those strange and enchanting beings of the deep.

Known to be seals beneath the waves, yet able to cast off their sleek skins and walk upon the earth as men and women, the Selkies possessed a beauty and grace that few could resist.

Of Their Nature and Origin

Tales do tell that the Selkies were born of the sea, children of the ocean’s depths, with seals as their kin. When upon the water, they swam swift and sure, their seal form guarding them from harm.

Yet, on the nights of the full moon, or at times when the sea called them near to shore, they might slip from their sealskins and take the form of fair mortals, their hair dark as night or golden as sunlight, their eyes holding the deep secrets of the sea.

Though many believed them to be enchanted creatures, half of this world and half of another, some claim that the Selkies were folk cast into the sea by ancient sorcery, doomed to roam between the world of men and the wild waters.

Others whisper that they are the lost spirits of drowned sailors, given new life by the sea.

Love and Longing

The Selkies, though of great beauty, oft found themselves drawn to the world of men, and many a tale tells of a Selkie maiden or man taking human lovers.

These unions, however, were not fated to last, for the Selkies ever longed for the sea. In the telling of these tales, it is said that the Selkie could only remain on land so long as their seal skin was hidden from them.

 Should they find it, they would return to the waves, leaving their human lovers behind, though sometimes with heavy hearts.

Many a fisherman or maiden, it is told, would find themselves bewitched by a Selkie’s charm, seeking to hide the creature’s sealskin in hope of keeping their love bound to them.

 Yet, in nearly every tale, the call of the sea proves too strong, and the Selkie will find their skin, slip into the waters, and vanish into the deep, never to return.

A Wondrous Gift and a Sorrowful Curse

The Selkies, in their dual form, were said to bring both great joy and great sorrow. Some tales speak of Selkie folk as bringers of fortune, blessing those they favoured with abundant fish and calm seas.

Others, however, tell of their vengeance, for they were not to be trifled with. Should a man or woman steal away a Selkie’s skin and keep them from their ocean home, the consequences could be dire.

Some tales tell of storms and shipwrecks wrought by the grief of a trapped Selkie, while others whisper that the heartbroken creatures would come ashore at night, weeping at the doorsteps of the very ones who held them captive.

Page 122

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Signs and Folklore

In the villages along the cold coasts, it was said that Selkies would often linger near shore, watching the land with sad and longing eyes.

Some swore that the sound of their singing could be heard on quiet nights when the moon shone bright, their voices as haunting as the crash of the waves.

Fisherfolk who spotted seals following their boats would claim these were Selkies, watching over them from the water.

Old wives would warn young women to keep a wary eye upon the sea, lest a Selkie man steal them away with a kiss, while men were told to guard their hearts from Selkie maidens, lest they lose them forever to the ocean’s call.

In the End

Though the Selkies are beings of legend, their tales live on, woven into the fabric of coastal life, where the sea’s beauty and danger remain ever-present.

They are creatures of two worlds—neither fully of the land nor wholly of the sea—caught between the joy of human love and the eternal pull of the ocean’s depths.

Tommy wants to bang his head onto the table as he reads through the book, swallowing the lump in his throat as his eyes flick up back to two certain passages.

‘In the villages along the cold coasts, it was said that Selkies would often linger near shore, watching the land with sad and longing eyes’

‘Some tales tell of storms and shipwrecks wrought by the grief of a trapped Selkie, while others whisper that the heartbroken creatures would come ashore at night, weeping at the doorsteps of the very ones who held them captive’

Tommy shudders, slipping his sweater further up on his shoulders, ducking his head in hopes of further hiding his tears. His heart aches, and Tommy knows he’s right.

The longing for the sea, the urge for the waves, all of it.

Tommy’s coat.

Tommy doesn’t remember much from his childhood, all he was told is he was found alone, abandoned on the beach.

Tommy knows now, why exactly he was there, and why exactly Dream never lets Tommy touch the shining coat hanging up above his father's desk, or why he so desperately wanted it.

Death.

What the hell is he going to do?

Tommy knows he’s not a normal kid. His father knows it too.

From how the sea would call to him, draw him in until he was standing at the shore, the waves lapping at his sandy feet.

His father would always catch him before he could go deeper, dragging Tommy back through the sand, cursing angrily at the ocean as if it wronged him.

Maybe it had.

Tommy shudders.

He closes the book, holding his head in his hands as he processes the information carefully, taking deep, slow breaths as he tries to steady himself.

He’s fine.

He’s ok.

He glances back to the book and slides it away from himself, even though he knows the distance won’t change the information he’s just processed.

The information that Tommy’s thoughts about his father were right, that there was something wrong with how he’d never let Tommy near the water, how whenever he held that coat in his hands Tommy would sob and shudder in fear.

He didn’t even know why he did it. He just- it was like he could feel it when his father would grab the coat, heat radiating from the lighter his father would hold near it.

Gods.

Tommy knew it. He just- he couldn’t admit it. Couldn’t admit that to his father, to himself.

What’s he going to do? He can’t- he can’t stay here, not now that he knows this. Tommy wishes he’d just been killed.

Wishes when his father first found him on the beach, he’d let Tommy be swept up by the waves.

“The Arcane Codex. Is that what youth is into nowadays?” Tommy startles from his spiral, his swirling blue eyes snapping up to meet a vibrant red.

Tommy swallows thickly, looking up at the man, then back to the book. Tommy forces himself to relax. He shrugs as normally as possible.

“What’s it matter? Just readin’, innit?” Tommy says, leaning back on his chair. He inwardly curses himself as the larger man just hums in reply, flipping the book open.

“Selkies, huh?” the man huffs, and Tommy’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. How the fuck did he manage to turn to the exact page Tommy had been reading?

Death, what rotten luck.

“You got a parent you aren’t fond of? Coat you like?” Tommy resists the urge to squirm under the man's heavy gaze, shrugging and flicking his eyes back to the book. “’S just interested.”

The man tilts his head for a moment, scanning Tommy intently. At least it gives Tommy the chance to scan him.

He’s large. He’s got a bulky stature and height that would tower above Tommy even if he wasn’t sitting down. He’s got – admittedly – beautifully braided hair and stunning, cherry-red eyes that seemed to pierce Tommy’s soul.

And he’s got a sword strapped to his back.

An enchanted Netherite sword, with a large belt around his waist. Tommy can see a potion – weakness, maybe – peeking out of one of the pouches and a dagger strapped to his thigh.

Ah.

Fuck.

Tommy didn’t realise the hunters were in town.

Tommy shifts under his gaze, swallowing thickly as he flicks his eyes away, nervous. The man is clearly a part of the Vigil of Iron, a broach strapped to his chest and an intimidating stature.

Hunters, who track through village after village, country after country in search of magical beings who had been causing havoc, snatching them up.

They were heroes. Saviours.

And Tommy’s worst nightmare.

Look- Tommy does his best to stay out of trouble, to stay out of sight and out of mind.

But he can’t just starve.

Tommy’s never really been able to stomach the food his father gives him, fish just seems to settle easier in his stomach, all meat does.

So if he hurls, Tommy steals sometimes. He’ll snag some coins, maybe a piece of cured meat and a fish head if he’s lucky, but that’s it.

Sometimes he gets caught, but most times he doesn’t.

But he is, technically, a magical being causing havoc.

Oh, Death.

Literally.

Maybe it won’t be so bad. Tommy hasn’t done anything especially bad, so maybe his Lady will be merciful, spare such a rotten soul and an awful child the fate of hell.

Maybe purgatory, or limbo. That would be nice.

Tommy shivers as a breath of cold brushes on the back of his neck, sending a tingle down his spine.

Ah, so his Lady was listening.

Tommy relaxes slightly at her silent promise of safety.

“…You should be getting’ home.” Tommy startles as the man finally speaks, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of them.

Tommy hesitates before he nods, reaching for the book. He just needs to figure out how to get rid of the coat, and then he can just do that himself.

Then he’ll be a normal child.

Easy.

But instead, the book is snatched up to the man's chest so quickly Tommy doesn’t even have time to blink.

Ah.

Fuck.

“Go home.” Tommy swallows thickly at the man's tone, quickly turning to scamper away, feeling the hunter's gaze burning on his back.

Him?

Techno doesn’t mean to question Lady Death, and she’s certainly never been wrong before, but that…child, skittish and spooked, being someone so important that she dragged both Philza and Techno here was…strange.

ꌩꍟꌗ, ꂵꌩ ꀸꍏꋪ꒒ꀤꈤꁅ. ꃅꀤꂵ.

Yes, my darling, him.

Techno tilts his head in acknowledgement, watching the little one run off, swerving through the library with ease. Techno twitches at the sight. He’s quite fast. Graceful, even.

Speed boy lol

                                             Chase him!

                             I  like his hair

     GOLD GOLD GOLD

           What if you shot him?

                                                  Don’t shoot him!

         Shoot him!

                      I like his hair :(

                                               How did you say that???

                                 Ooh pretty gold

                           CHILD

                                Is he an orphan?

Techno twitches, blocking Chat's rambles out as he scans the boy's form.

He can see Lady Deaths claim swirling around the child's body, encircling his torso and wrists in a loving, possessive hold.

…wait.

Chosen?

He can almost feel Lady Deaths soft laughter at Techno’s incredulous stare. Him. That kid was Lady Death’s newest and final chosen?

Philza was first, all those centuries ago. How the man managed to woo the goddess of death, Techno will never know, but it doesn’t matter.

They were together first, Philza as her first.

Techno was second, saved from his fate as a sacrifice to the Blood God. (who according to Lady Death, had not been amused at his chosen being stolen from him.)

          Lmao

                        Get better

                                    Should’ve been faster!!

               I love Lady!

                                   Isn’t her name Death?

                 Where is Philza?

   HUNGRY

            Bro you can’t eat

                                                I thought her name was Kristin?

                        No.

                                                What

                      That’s stupid

          idiot.

                                 Lmao ‘Kristin’

Techno's eye twitches, ordering chat to shut the fuck up.

Techno should judge his goddess, but Philza and Techno had both been older - Philza almost a century old and Techno reaching about twenty-something.

But this child? Techno had never seen her claim so young. Claim so quick.

Why?

Techno huffs, turning to the bookshelf when he’s being staring dead into the soul of one of the librarians who now looked like they pissed themselves.

Ah.

ꄲꁝ, ꌦꄲ꒤ ’ ꒒꒒ ꇙꏂꏂ, ꂵꌦ ꒯ꋬꋪ꒒꒐ꋊꍌ.

oh, you’ll see, my darling.

ꌦꄲ꒤ ’ ꒒꒒ ꏂꋊ꒻ꄲꌦ ꓄ꁝꏂ ꁝ꒤ꋊ꓄.

You’ll enjoy the hunt.

Techno pauses at that, a grin touching his lips as he stops pretending to scan the books.

Oh? a hunt?

ꌦꏂꇙ, ꂵꌦ ꒯ꏂꋬꋪ. ꁝꏂ ’ ꇙ ꋊꏂ꒦ꏂꋪ ꃳꏂꏂꋊ ꄲꋊꏂ ꓄ꄲ ꇙꏂ꓄꓄꒒ꏂ ꒯ꄲꅐꋊ ꓄ꄲꄲ ꆰ꒤꒐ꉔꀘ꒒ꌦ. 

yes, my dear. He’s never been one to settle down to quickly.

꒯ꄲꋊ ’ ꓄ ꅐꄲꋪꋪꌦ, ꌦꄲ꒤ ’ ꒒꒒ ꋬ꒯ꄲꋪꏂ ꁝ꒐ꂵ ꄲꋊꉔꏂ ꁝꏂ ꒯ꄲꏂꇙ. ꂵꋬꌦꃳꏂ ꃳꏂꊰꄲꋪꏂ. ꁝꏂ ’ ꇙ ꋪꏂꋬ꒒꒒ꌦ ꇙ꒤ꉔꁝ ꋬ ꇙꅐꏂꏂ꓄ ꃳꄲꌦ, ꓄ꁝꄲ꒤ꍌꁝ ꋬ ꇙꉣ꒐꓄ꊰ꒐ꋪꏂ ꋬ꓄ ꓄ꁝꋬ꓄.

don’t worry, You’ll adore him once he does. Maybe before. He’s really such a sweet boy, though a spitfire at that.

Well.

Techno adjusts his sword with a low chuff, reaching out to Philza’s bond, and pulling it softly to get the man's attention.

This makes things far more fun.

          Woo hunt time!

Shut up.

Chapter Text

Chapter two- Through Smoke and Silence

Tommy is not having fun.

He’s such an idiot.

He thought he could stay just a week more, enough to gather his supplies, plan a route to the seaside and leave before the hunters eventually caught on.

Wrong.

Only two days after running into the hunter at the library, Tommy is running as fast as he can through the woods, feet bare, backpack half stuffed, his coat around his shoulders and a hunter right on his tail.

Shit. Shit.

Tommy pants heavily, eyes flicking frantically around the forest as he runs, muffling a whimper of pain as a rock cuts his foot, a stinging pain erupting from his foot each time he steps.

He can’t spend time worrying about shit like that, he’s going to be in a lot more pain than a sting if the hunters catch him.

Tommy ducks another arrow that whizzes past his head, his heart pumping so loud in his chest that he can’t hear anything else.

He pumps his legs faster, refusing to falter as another arrow passes him, just scraping his arm.

He just wanted to stay alive a bit longer. He just- he just wanted to be safe.

His breath stops, stumbling to a halt as he turns, hiding behind a tree to catch his breath, just for a moment.

He digs through his bag desperately, hiking his coat further up on his shoulders.

There.

Tommy grabs the potion, uncorking it and gulping it down. He doesn’t know what it is, all he knows is it says ‘hidden’ and that’s what he needs.

The liquid burns as it runs down his throat, and Tommy desperately needs to breathe, but he doesn’t stop until the potion is gone.

He gasps, the bottle clattering to the floor as he swallows thickly.

His vision is blurry, an inky mess around him.

Tommy can barely make anything out, squinting doing nothing to help. Tommy spins, breath hitching as a blob runs right to him – a hunter – and he realizes he’s going to die-

But-…nothing comes. No hit lands on his skin, no agony consumes his being. Tommy blinks, turning around and the hunter-blob is…gone.

Running past Tommy.

As if Tommy wasn’t even there.

What?

Tommy’s breath stutters in his chest as he looks down, his eyes widening as he doesn’t see a body, nothing more than a whiff of smoke in the air.

What the fuck.

Tommy- Tommy is gone.

Wait- no, no Tommy’s read about this, in- in that book, The Arcade whatever.

Shit, what did it say?

‘Potions can give a number of benefits...awkward potion as a base’

No, no that’s not right, he doesn’t need how to make them…

‘some potions contain greater abilities…health…invisibility’

That’s it.

That’s it.

Fuck. Tommy's potion made him invisible.

Well.

How the fuck does he change back?

Techno doesn’t get any hints from Lady Death on how exactly the boy disappeared. It was like magic, evaporating into thing air before his eyes as he went to grab him.

He huffs, stoking the fire again as Philza leans back, popping his bucket hat down into the dirt to run his hand through his hair.

He’s gotten no hints on what the kid actually is, and as much as Techno would like to think Lady Death was being kind and showing Techno the page the kid had been reading because the kid wanted to know more about himself, but Lady Death does enjoy her tricks.

Gods, the kid could just be human and have some potion-making skills.

Techno honestly has nothing, and-…and…

And Techno likes it.

That just makes the thrill better.

Getting to hunt, to find and to take, knowing it was an actual challenge was freeing. Techno hadn’t had a good hunt in a long while.

Everyone either gave up quickly when they realized The Blade was hunting them or simply wasn’t fun enough to hunt.

But this kid was fun. Techno’s always enjoyed a good chase. And this kid is clearly giving it his all.

But maybe, it was more than that. He’d been hunting the kid for almost twenty-four hours, longer than any self-proclaimed rouge had lasted.

He enjoyed how whenever Techno just managed to catch up, was so close to snagging the little one he would spit some incredibly thought-out insult, sometimes seeming to…enjoy making Techno stumble.

He’s definitely got a mouth on him, for sure. Maybe he’d like other things like that too. Clearly, the kid was smart, even without his wonderfully poetic threats.

Maybe he likes literature. Techno would love to show him his book collection.

Techno glances at Philza, who’s staring up at the stars above, a smile on his lips. Techno softens.

“You think the kid likes the night sky?” Philza asks, his gaze trailing over the stars. Techno just hums in response, thinking. “We’ll see. You can ask him soon.”

Philza tilts his head, glancing back to Techno, a soft smile on his lips. “You look good. Happy, even.” Techno shrugs in response, “I enjoy a good hunt.”

The avian knows Techno better than that. His eyes glint knowingly as Techno chuffs softly, fiddling with his golden ring.

He bets the kid would like gold. He wonders if he’d let Techno pierce his ears. Match Techno and Philza.

Techno purrs softly without realizing it, hands flexing. Oh, he knows the kids love shiny things, if the stash in his house that Techno found says anything.

In his thoughts, Techno lets chat slip through, sighing softly as their stream of words fills his head.

Runt! Spoil him Lavish Gold? GAPPLES!!! He’s too thin :( Feed?   DEN DEN Baby runt!! He’s so cute!   EARRINGSSS!! Baby!!                                            Sounder?             

He can’t wait to spoil his runt.

Oh.

Is that what he meant?

Well. Not like there was a better person Techno’s instincts could’ve chosen.

Techno purrs softly. A runt.

His runt.

oh, he just can't wait.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three-  Where Shadows Linger

Tommy’s breath comes in sharp, desperate gasps as he crashes through the underbrush, his legs aching and his lungs burning.

He’s been running for hours, maybe days—it all blurs together now.

The cold night air bites at his skin, but it’s nothing compared to the dread that claws at his chest.

He can hear the hunter’s pursuit.

Steady, measured, relentless.

The way the man moves, Tommy swears he’s not human. Wouldn’t that be such a funny thing? A hunter from the Vigil of Iron itself, a magical being in his own right.

A borderline hysteric laugh bubbles up from Tommy’s throat at the thought.

Fuck he’s tired.

The lake comes into view from beyond the foliage, silver and black, shimmering under the moonless sky. Tommy swallows thickly, his breath stuttering in his chest.

The rest of the area is clear, the trees nothing but stumps for what seems to be miles.

He’d be easy pickings if he kept running.

Looking back at the lake, Tommy knows it’s the only option. He doesn’t know if he can hold his breath long enough, but if he stays here, he knows exactly what will happen.

With a frantic glance behind him, Tommy veers off his running path and races toward the shoreline.

His foot catches on a root, and he stumbles into the freezing water, gasping at the cold.

The lake swallows him whole, icy and unforgiving as he dives deeper, the murky water closing over his head. His heart pounds, echoing in his ears as he forces himself to sink.

Don’t surface.

Don’t breathe.

Don’t surface.

Don’t breathe.

Don’t surface.

Don’t breathe.

Don’t surface.

Don’t. Breathe.

Tommy repeats it like a mantra in his head as he feels panic grip him, instinct screaming at him to get out, his lungs feeling like it’s crushing in his chest, but he fights it, kicking deeper into the lake, pushing past the reeds that cling to his legs.

The water is dark, too dark to see anything, but that’s good. He’s hidden. At least, he hopes so.

Tommy’s lungs ache for air, the pressure building in his chest-

…

Well.

He pauses mid-kick, realizing something odd.

He’s not gasping. The desperate need for breath isn’t overwhelming him. His chest feels tight, yes, but he isn’t drowning.

The realization comes slow and strange— He’s a selkie. He’s always known there was something different, something that called him to the water.

It’s like home.

It’s always been like home.

This is-… this feels right.

But Tommy doesn’t have time to dwell on the thought because, above him, he sees movement.

The hunter.

Even in the darkness, the man moves with purpose, not a movement wasted on anything extra. He slows from his jog into a walk.

He walks straight, steady in such an unnerving way Tommy wonders if as he child he just stood up and started speaking full sentences.

His eyes scan the shoreline, searching, but not finding.

He doesn’t look at the lake.

Why would he?

The moon's light hides everything beneath the surface, including Tommy, it shimmering beauty making the lake nothing more than a reflection of the surface.

Tommy watches, heart in his throat, as the hunter prowls closer to the water’s edge.

For a moment, he fears the man will sense him, that some uncanny instinct will lead him here, but then the man stops, tilting his head as though listening.

The silence stretches, tension thick in the air.

Then, the hunter turns away, moving back into the trees, his form melting into the shadows as he vanishes from sight.

Tommy lets out a shaky breath, bubbles slipping from his lips and floating upward. He doesn’t move yet, though.

He stays submerged, suspended in the freezing water, waiting until he’s sure the man is gone.

It’s only after several long minutes that he kicks his way to the surface, breaking through with a gasp. His body shakes from the cold, his limbs heavy, but he’s alive.

He’s alive.

As he floats in the lake, the ripples around him fading into stillness, Tommy realizes something important.

The water might just be his sanctuary after all.

But he knows this isn’t the end. The hunter will be back.

He always does.

Techno stood at the edge of the lake, his gaze fixed on the still, dark water. The night was quiet now, the rustling of leaves and the soft hum of the forest around him a sharp contrast to the intensity of the chase earlier.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t add up.

The kid should have run into the trees. He should have been easy to spot across the empty field, running through the dead stumps of the cut-down forest, an easy target.

Techno had been right behind him, only about ten or so metres behind, yet as soon as he’d rounded the corner, there was nothing.

No figure slipping between the trunks, no trail of broken branches or scuffled dirt.

He’d searched the area, scouring the edge of the forest, but there hadn’t been a trace.

And then there had been the splash.

Swimmer core lmao Not the time Runt’s missing!!! Did he drown? No dumbass. There are footprints Don’t be mean!! BLOOD Not the time!! Mb G!

Techno pushed chats nonsensical ramblings out of his head, narrowing his eyes as he scans the lake again, its surface calm, reflecting the faint light of the moon.

That splash... it had been too soft, too controlled for someone diving in panic. He’d brushed it off at the time, maybe the kid threw something into the lake, like a glass bottle as remnants for a potion.

He hadn’t thought much of it at the time—anyone jumping into the lake to escape would’ve resurfaced eventually.

He’d waited. Fifteen minutes or more. Long enough to see if the boy would break the water again, gasping for air, just in case the kid had jumped into the lake.

But nothing had stirred, not even a ripple after the initial splash.

Any normal person would have drowned.

But this kid... Techno frowns, replaying the chase in his mind, the way the boy had moved through the forest, slipping out of his reach again and again.

He was clever, not just fast, Techno would admit that.

Techno knew how prey behaved, especially when they were scared and cornered, and this kid had survived longer than most seasoned self-proclaimed ‘Rogues’ would’ve managed.

And then there was that coat.

Techno’s frown deepened, remembering the spotted pelt the boy always kept with him. He hadn’t noticed it at first, not really—just a scrap of fur, something easily overlooked.

But the kid had kept it with him the whole time.

Even when he’d ditched his backpack that held food, potions – which ruled out another invis pot – and all of his other things, he’d held onto the coat.

That wasn’t normal. No one carried dead weight like that in a life-or-death situation unless it meant something.

The image of the pelt flashed in Techno’s mind again, those distinct spots that suddenly seemed much more significant.

Spotted.

His fingers flexed at his side, and a thought clicked into place. The splash. The coat. The fact the kid hadn’t drowned, hadn’t resurfaced.

A selkie.

Techno’s eyes widened slightly, the realization settling in. He’d heard stories about selkies before, though they were rare, almost myths now.

Sea creatures bound to their pelts can shift into seals and survive underwater.

The kid hadn’t drowned because he couldn’t.

He was born for the water.

Ah. So Lady Death had been telling the truth.

L Common Technoblade L LMAO SHE WAS BEING NICE Smart runt Don’t Selkies run away a lot? He’ll be hard to keep still Steal the coat! NO! That would hurt the runt Nah DON’T DO THAT!!! Sad runt :(

“Tech?” Philza’s voice broke through his thoughts, drawing his attention. The avian was standing a few feet away, his head tilted in question. “What are you thinking?”

Techno huffed, shaking his head. “He didn’t run into the trees.”

Philza hummed in agreement, following Techno’s gaze toward the lake. “So where’d he go?”

Techno’s grip on the hilt of his sword tightened as he spoke. “The lake. He went into the water, but he didn’t come back up while I was there.”

Philza tilted his head, eyes shining. “Then how’d he get out?”

“That’s the thing—he shouldn’t have been able to. No one can hold their breath that long.”

Philza raised an eyebrow, a smile on his lips. “So?”

Ah. So Philza must’ve already figured it out.

Techno’s lips twitched into a faint, knowing smile.

 “He didn’t need to hold his breath. I found footprints leading away from the lake, wet ones. He came out on the other side, but not the way a normal person would.” He paused, his eyes gleaming with realization. “That coat he carries? Spotted. He’s a selkie.”

Philza patted Techno’s shoulder, settling up beside him. “A selkie. So he’s tied to the sea.”

Techno nodded slowly. “It makes sense. He didn’t drown because he wasn’t going to. His kind… they’re bound to the ocean. He’s probably headed there now.”

Philza hummed thoughtfully, casting a glance back at the dark water. “So what’s the plan?”

Techno’s smile widened, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “We corner him at the coast. He’ll have no choice but to go back to the sea eventually. It’s in his blood.”

Philza chuckled softly. “Yeah. You might be right about that, Techno.”

Chapter Text

Chapter four- The Crushing Depths

Tommy’s lungs burned as he scrambled through the underbrush, his feet slipping on the damp forest floor. His coat, now stashed away in his tattered clothes, felt heavy on his shoulders, a constant reminder that the ocean—the one place he could be safe—was so, so far away.

Run. Run.

That was all his brain could scream at him. The rustling behind him, the deliberate and steady footfalls, were getting louder. He didn’t dare look back. He couldn’t afford to. But he knew the hunter was close.

Tommy pushed harder, his legs shaking as he wove between trees, panting as branches scratched at his skin. He stumbled, catching himself on the ground as his knees hit the dirt, only to hear the unmistakable snap of a twig just behind him.

Panic surged. He was dead. He was so dead.

Tommy’s heart raced as he threw himself forward, but it was too late. A massive weight collided with him, slamming him into the ground with a grunt. Strong hands grabbed his wrists, pinning him face-first into the dirt.

“No—no!” he screamed, thrashing wildly under the man’s grip. He bucked, kicked, anything to get free, but it was like trying to move a mountain.

The hunter—gods, the man was so strong—pressed down on Tommy’s back, his breath steady while Tommy’s came in frantic gasps. “Stop strugglin’, kid,” came the low voice above him.

The tone was calm, but it carried an edge of finality that sent a chill down Tommy’s spine.

Tommy twisted, managing to glance up just enough to see the man’s shadowy figure looming over him. The moonlight caught on his face—a mask of indifference, no malice, but no warmth either. Tommy’s breath hitched.

He’s going to kill him. He’s going to—

Without thinking, Tommy's hands fumbled towards the hunter’s belt, fingers brushing over the hilt of a dagger. He hesitated for only a second before ripping it free, turning the blade in his grip.

For a moment, the world seemed to still.

Then, with a cry, Tommy plunged the dagger into the man’s arm. It wasn’t deep—barely more than a scratch—but it was enough.

The hunter grunted, more startled than hurt, his grip loosening just enough for Tommy to wrench himself free. He didn’t stop to look back as he scrambled to his feet and bolted.

Blood roared in his ears as he tore through the trees, branches whipping his face and arms, but all he could think was Run.

His legs burned, his lungs felt ready to burst, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. The ocean was still far, but it called to him like a song. His only hope. His only escape.

Behind him, he could hear the hunter regaining his footing, the pursuit resuming.

Tommy’s chest tightened, his fear twisting into something sharp and desperate. He had to make it. He had to.

But even as he ran, he knew deep down—Techno wasn’t going to give up easily.

Techno sat by the flickering campfire, the warmth licking at his face, though his focus was entirely on the wound in his arm. His fingers worked methodically, wrapping the bandage tight over the scratch that still stung with the sting of salt and sweat.

LLLL IMAGEN?? Losing to a child is a new low STRONG RUNT!!! He’s so cute!!! Did he end up taking the dagger??? BABBYYYYYY Gold! Lavish him! No the little shit dropped it Don’t call him that!! ha ha Don’t laugh. He is doing his best!   Shut up ļ̸͍̰̥̼̹̗̭̣̜͍̹̩͉͚͌̈́̒͛̌͛̕ͅj̶̡̡̛̲̹̻̳̖͇̫ŝ̸̛̛̛͎̟͖̭͇͕̱̠͎̀̐̐͌̔̕o̵̝͍͊̊̓̈́́̂́̌̕̚ǫ̵̧̨̹̬͉̲̗̑a̴͚̖̗̖̳͇͎̱̤̬̦̗̥̰̯̤̺̓́͐̍̽́͛̽̓̕͝͝͝h̷̡̢̳̹̤̫̞̬̹̘̻̋͛̋̄͛̇̽̑̉͑͘̕͜͜͜ͅ   boorrrinnng!

Techno shut chat out, already feeling the headache blooming behind his eyes, turning his attention back to binding the cut.

He wasn’t angry; no, not at the runt.

if anything, he was impressed. The runt had managed to steal his dagger, the one that Techno never thought he’d lose grip of and scratched him just deep enough to loosen his hold.

He smirked faintly, the memory of those wide blue eyes flashing in his mind. There had been fear there—panic—but beneath it, there was something else.

Something fierce.

Techno’s hand paused as he stared into the flames, mesmerized by how they flickered the same shade of gold as the light that had caught in Tommy’s eyes when he'd struck.

“Those eyes…” Techno murmured, his voice low, almost thoughtful. They were like the ocean itself, shifting from calm to turbulent in an instant, so expressive even when the kid tried to hide it.

He wondered if Tommy even realized how much he gave away with a single look. Not that it mattered. Techno knew now.

Philza’s quiet movements drew Techno's attention, but the man didn’t interrupt. Instead, he tended to the fire, his wings tucked close to his back, the soft crackle of the flames filling the night air.

“What do you think he’d like?” Techno said suddenly, more to himself than Phil, though the question hung in the air between them.

Philza’s brow lifted. “Hm?”

“Jewelry.” Techno tied off the bandage with a careful tug. “For when he settles in. I want to get him something nice. Something that’ll suit him.”

Phil chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. “Already thinking about spoiling him, huh?”

Techno grunted in response, though there was a fondness in his tone. He could picture it—Tommy with something delicate around his neck or wrist, something personal, like the sea itself forged into silver or gold.

Maybe a bracelet with charms that clinked softly, or a necklace that shimmered like the moon on the water. The runt didn’t seem the type for flashy things, not yet, but there was something satisfying about the idea of seeing him adorned with something that marked him as theirs.

"He'll appreciate it," Techno mused, "even if he pretends not to."

Phil glanced over, wings rustling as he settled down on the log beside him. "He might make you work for it, though."

Techno huffed a laugh. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

There was silence for a moment, save for the soft crackle of the fire and the distant sounds of the forest.

But Techno’s thoughts hadn’t settled. His mind drifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he traced the lines of the wound on his arm. It wasn’t deep, but it was a reminder. The runt had fight in him.

Good.

He’d need it.

“Once he’s ready,” Techno said, more to himself than to Phil, “I’m going to teach him to fight properly. None of this wild, desperate scrambling. He could be strong if he learned control.”

Phil smirked, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. “Already planning lessons?”

Techno nodded, eyes glinting in the firelight. "Yeah. Soon as he stops running." He leaned back, his voice softening just a touch. "He’ll stop. And when he does, we’ll make sure he’s prepared for whatever comes after."

Phil said nothing, but Techno knew his old friend agreed. Tommy was theirs now, Lady Death had made sure of it. They’d take care of him, teach him, and—eventually—Tommy would understand that this was where he belonged. Where he was safest.

Techno’s gaze drifted back to the flames, the flicker of them mirroring the glint of steel as he absently spun his dagger in his hand. It was just a matter of time before the runt would stop fighting. Time, and a little patience.

And when Tommy did stop? Well, Techno thought, his eyes narrowing slightly with a smile tugging at his lips, he’d make sure the runt was ready for anything the world could throw at him.

Even if it meant starting with a fight against him.

Chapter Text

Chapter five – of Salt and Ash

Tommy doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going. His legs burn, his chest aches, and every breath is a battle against the bitter cold that’s long since seeped into his bones.

Two weeks of running, and he's on the verge of collapsing face-first into the dirt. Pathetic. Two weeks, and he’s already about to give up.

But he can’t.

The ocean—his ocean—is so close, and it calls to him like a promise. A whisper, a lullaby in his veins that tells him safety is only a little further.

He just has to get there.

If he could just make it to the shore, if he could just feel the cool embrace of saltwater against his skin, maybe he’d be free. Maybe he’d finally be safe.

But his body is failing. His feet are numb, his legs heavy like stone, and the cold is creeping deeper into him with every step.

He’s losing this fight, and he knows it. Fifteen days, and he’s about to die out here in the dirt.

Tommy slumps to the ground, exhaustion weighing him down like a stone. Tears prick at his eyes, blurring his vision as the wind bites harshly at his skin. He’s going to die.

Fourteen years old, and Tommy’s going to die.

The sobs come unbidden, harsh and ragged, as he curls in on himself. He’s so tired. So, so tired. He just wants it all to stop.

But he can’t stop. Not yet. Not when the ocean is so close. It’s calling him, drawing him in, like a magnet he can’t resist.

He can almost hear the waves crashing against the shore, can almost feel the pull of the water as if it’s reaching for him, waiting for him. I

t’s there, just beyond his reach, and if he could just keep moving…

But the exhaustion drags him down. He’s a stone sinking in a sea of despair, and the ocean feels farther and farther away with each passing second.

He can’t do it.

He’s not strong enough.

Then, suddenly, there’s warmth beside him. A solid presence, radiating heat, sits at his side, and Tommy freezes. His breath hitches, and his heart pounds in his chest, fear clawing at him like a wild animal.

Don’t look.

Maybe if he doesn’t look, they’ll leave him be.

Maybe they’ll let him slip away into his Lady’s embrace quietly.

A low rumble breaks the silence. Tommy flinches, his tear-filled eyes flicking toward the figure beside him. His heart stutters when he recognizes the broad silhouette, the imposing figure looming over him.

It’s the man—no, the hunter—from the library. He’s here. He’s found him.

A strong arm wraps around Tommy’s shoulders, pulling him in, and Tommy’s too tired to resist the warmth that seeps into his aching bones.

But he can’t let himself fall into it. He can’t let himself give in. Not yet.

He struggles weakly, pushing at the hunter’s chest, his fingers digging into the man’s arm as he tries to claw his way free. But the hold is unyielding. Strong.

Tommy bites at the hand holding him, kicks at the legs pinning him in place, but it’s all so futile. The hunter doesn’t let go. He doesn’t even flinch.

Tommy’s strength drains away, replaced by sobs that wrack his small frame. His claws dig uselessly into the hunter’s arm, leaving faint scratches, but the man just holds him tighter, a low rumble vibrating through his chest.

“You did well, runt,” the hunter says, his voice a deep, comforting purr. “You ran far. You almost made it.”

Tommy shakes his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he trembles in the man’s arms.

He was so close. If only he’d made it to the water. If only he could have taken off his coat, wrapped himself in the safety of his pelt, he could’ve disappeared into the sea. He could have gone home.

The ocean is still calling, still pulling at him, and Tommy’s chest tightens with the need to be in it, to feel the cold waves surround him. He’d be safe there. But he didn’t make it.

He failed.

“You were close,” the hunter murmurs, his large hand gently running through Tommy’s matted hair. “But it’s over now.”

Tommy sobs harder, the hunter’s warmth a stark contrast to the cold gnawing at his heart.

It’s so cruel, the way the man is so gentle with him, so kind. The most kindness he’s ever known, and it comes from the very person who’s about to take everything from him.

“Don’t worry, kid,” the hunter rumbles softly, pulling Tommy fully into his lap, wrapping his arms securely around him. “We’ll take care of you now. You’ll be safe with us.”

Safe. The word echoes hollowly in Tommy’s mind. How could he ever be safe in the hands of someone like this?

But the ocean’s call is fading, the exhaustion dragging him deeper into a fog of warmth and comfort that he can’t fight.

The hunter’s hand keeps stroking through his hair, a steady rhythm that lulls him, even as his heart screams that he has to keep running.

He has to.

But there’s no fight left in him. Not now.

“You’re going to be alright,” the hunter whispers, his voice so soft it makes Tommy’s chest ache. “We’ve got you.”

Tommy’s eyelids flutter, heavy with exhaustion. He doesn’t want to trust him, but his body is giving in. He’s safe, the hunter says.

He doesn’t believe it.

But for now, in the warmth of the hunter’s embrace, it’s enough to let the darkness take him.

EPILOGUE

The waves lap gently at the shore, dark waters shimmering under the moonlight as Tommy swims closer, the ocean feeling like an extension of his body.

His sleek form cuts through the water effortlessly, his movements fluid and natural, like the ocean itself is guiding him.

The cold doesn’t bite; it cradles him, familiar and safe. But as he approaches the shore, his instincts tell him it’s time. Time to go back.

He’s been away for longer than usual, too lost in the feeling of the water, of his home under the waves.

He emerges from the ocean slowly, the dark sheen of his seal skin glistening under the moon before it shifts, twisting and warping as he pulls himself onto the sand.

His limbs stretch, bones and muscles shifting back into place until he’s standing on two feet once more, his human form returning.

Tommy shivers, not from the cold, but from the sudden change, his breath visible in the cool night air.

Reaching down, he grabs the seal coat, shaking off the water and sand before wrapping it tightly around himself, the spotted pelt comforting and familiar as it hangs off his shoulders.

He pauses for a moment, eyes flicking back to the sea. The waves whisper softly, but not loud enough to call him back—not yet.

He pulls the coat closer and heads up the beach, his bare feet leaving faint, wet prints in the sand.

The cabin is warm and inviting, its silhouette glowing faintly in the distance, the soft flicker of firelight visible through the windows.

Tommy smiles, tugging the coat tighter as he approaches, the weight of the ocean still lingering in his limbs. He steps inside, quietly shutting the door behind him, the warmth of the fire washing over him.

Tommy crosses the room after carefully hanging his seal coat on the hook by the door.

He runs a hand over the spotted pelt, smoothing it out, letting his fingers run along the dips and curves of the coat for a moment longer before turning his gaze to the fireplace, where two familiar figures sit.

Philza is the first to notice him, his wings twitching slightly as his sharp eyes catch the movement.

A relieved smile tugs at his lips. “You’re back,” he says softly, and though his tone is calm, the tension leaves his body, his shoulders loosening as if a weight has been lifted.

Techno’s reaction is more subtle, but noticeable all the same.

His eyes, sharp and calculating, soften the moment they land on Tommy, a quiet exhale escaping his lips.

Techno leans back slightly, the tightness in his posture easing as if the return of the boy brings some unspoken peace.

Tommy pads across the floor, drawn by the fire’s warmth and the safety it promises.

Without a word, he climbs onto Techno’s lap, curling up against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Techno’s arms come around him automatically, strong and steady, pulling the boy closer. The soft rumble in Techno’s chest is familiar now, and Tommy lets out a small sigh, pressing his cheek against Techno’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing.

Philza chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling with fondness as he watches the two. “You always know how to make an entrance, don’t you, kid?” he teases, leaning back in his chair, the crackling fire casting a warm glow across his features.

He’s relaxed now too, the lingering worry fading from his face.

Tommy doesn’t respond with words, just a quiet hum of contentment as he sinks deeper into Techno’s hold, letting the warmth of the fire and the steady rhythm of Techno’s heartbeat lull him into comfort.

The cabin feels more like home than ever, the ocean’s call quiet in the background, a promise that it will always be there. But right now, Tommy has no desire to answer it.

Here, wrapped in the warmth of the fire, in the safety of Techno’s arms, with Philza’s soft hum in the background, he is exactly where he wants to be.