Chapter Text
I would shun the light, share in evening's cool and quiet
Who would trade that hum of night
For sunlight, sunlight, sunlight?
But whose heart would not take flight
Betray the moon as acolyte
On first and fierce affirming sight
Of sunlight, sunlight, sunlight?
Beneath the great forest canopy a single soul walks, using a staff he carefully traverses the thick foliage searching for what he needed. Leaning heavily on the mobility aid he carefully kneels to gather a few berries from a ripe bush, holding aside the emerald leaves to harvest the heavy fruits. Placing them carefully within the handwoven wicker basket that was looped around his opposite elbow, he finishes quickly and stands with a quiet groan.
Peering around every once in a while, the paranoia had never quite released the elf after his years of training for a prosperous Kingdom he ran away from. His long golden tresses were tied in a tight braid down his spine, between two wings held close to his spine. Not a single crow feather was out of place, the iridescent plumage was meticulously maintained besides the large amounts of burn scarring interrupting the swaths of night black.
Thinking over what else remained on the list he made himself, Philza removes the parchment from his pocket and reads it over. Realising he had finished gathering everything, he turns in the direction of their home following the paths he knew well.
His sanctuary was protected by the cove they lived within, only accessible at low tide leading to a natural barrier that was hard to traverse in the best of times. Holding the fruits of his labour close, he uses his staff heavily on the journey back to their home built into the cliffside that protected them.
His approach was interrupted by something outside the norm however, when he turned around a tree to find something crimson and shining in the middle of the clearing ahead. Phil froze where he was, staring in awe at the second most surprising things he ever found in these Wild Woods they lived within.
Pausing and pondering his next step, his mind can’t help but bring forth the identification of what lay before him, a dragon egg embraced within the earthen hollow formed by its appearance. He never imagined one would ever grace him with their presence, only holding the forbidden stories close of the majestic creatures who were once a symbol of hope.
Slow to approach, he finally lands on his knees before it and holds out a trembling hand to lay a single fingertip on its surprisingly warm surface. Spotting veins of darker red throughout the jewel-like exterior his calloused flesh glides across the smooth side, opaque to its truest center where the baby dragon was held.
In front of him a choice lay, innocent in its own right which could have deadly consequences to the elf considering it. Within this world Phil existed in, there were no free Dragon Knights left. The once honourable society who fought for good had been forced into a life of being the nightmares most feared because of a single evil being who controlled the source of all life on this continent. The intimate bond between Dragon and Elven Knight could be enforced in horrific ways, threats of severing it permanently meant most were too scared to betray the King who enslaved them.
Unable to stop himself, he carefully picks up the heavy egg and cradles it close to its chest, measuring it with his palm to be about three across. He wondered what he should do, he knew for his own safety he should leave it right where he found it in hopes a dire wolf would put it out of its misery the moment it hatched. But his soul rebelled against that idea, drawn to this dear creature held in his hands that now only knows the touch of death, welcomed happily.
Unwilling to make this decision alone when it would affect three lives, he tucks the precious item into his basket and is sure to cover it. Getting back to his feet and gathering his jade robes close, he adjusts his red belt before continuing home to his family.
The smile that crawled across his face the moment he saw his safety was subconscious, his partner awaiting him on the suspended porch that extended from the sheer face of stone. Waving happily, Missa’s night-black hair shone in the bright sun of midday blowing around his face with wild abandon. He burned too easily in the sun, his Drow blood meant the daylight was too harsh for him leading to Phil being the one to gather their provisions.
It was a mutual agreement, Missa attending to the tasks at home such as baking and preserving their supplies while his blonde mate hunted and foraged. Tossing the rope ladder down, Phil slides the staff he used into its holster and holds his wings tight to his back, grabbing the bottom rung and hauling himself upwards.
A slow ascent, he eventually reaches the hand Missa held out helping him up to the platform they built a few seasons ago after running away together. His musical platonic partner trills happily through the skulls affixed to his face, placing the basket down before embracing the one he gave it all up for. His form mirrored Phil’s own except it held the markers of death, bare wing bones of pale shining structures wrapping around his mate, magic of deep sapphire clouds holding the limbs together.
“Glad you are safe, my sol.” Missa mumbles with warmth surrounding his lyrical voice, pulling back to meet the blonde’s sky blue eyes. “You look troubled.”
Phil chuckles nervously, caressing his exposed jawbone with his free hand after pulling back out his staff. His broken wings meant he lived in a perpetual state of unbalance, a punishment for choosing Missa over his blood. “You know me too well, luna. Come inside, I will show you.”
Picking back up his basket off the wrought iron table on their patio, Missa pushes open their door allowing entrance into the cavern they claimed as their home. It was perfect, several paces wide with a flat floor they swept regularly to keep the dust to a minimum. Only a single tunnel led off the room, an escape route up and through the cliff face to the top as a last minute place they could run if ever threatened.
Moving to their small kitchen area Phil placed the basket he carried on their table, setting a single hand on top and peering at his partner. “I found something in the forest today, She seems to enjoy giving me gifts that way.”
“Indeed.” A thousand lines of history lay within that single word, an affectionate smile upon both their faces.
Taking a deep breath, he removes the cover and draws out the faceted egg of crimson red, Missa’s constellation filled gaze full of realisation from hearing his partner speak the legends of the Dragon Knight Syndicate. “Is that–”
Phil nods, holding it in a gentle caress before placing it on a soft square of folded cloth directly beside the basket. “It's alive.”
Missa seems stunned, slow to approach before his curiosity wins and he comes to lay a thin hand on the egg that might be the last free member of its species. Phil watched the same feeling win him over, his face softening around his skull into gentle affection.
Phil reaches out one of his hands to wrap Missa’s in his own, asking an impossible question. “Are you ready to embark on another adventure with me, luna?”
“To the horizon and beyond, dearest sol.”
Weeks slowly passed, the two mates working together to protect the egg while waiting for it to hatch. Missa fashioned a sling so he could wear it close to his chest, trading with Phil the moment he arrived home. Both took turns holding their new purpose close to their hearts, growing affection towards this amazing creature who would change their lives the moment they hatched.
This little being was already so loved before they took their first breath, cradled between them each night in their nest and held close by one parent during their waking hours. Prayers to both the Tree of Life and Lady Death were frequent, anything to save this unique glimpse of a world long forgotten held within the ruby-like egg and allowing them to grow up.
One evening as the moon peeks across the edge of the ocean, the first crack appeared. Missa shouted in surprise feeling it tremble, Phil immediately rushing to his side where he stood kneading dough. Unwrapping the sling from himself they place it on the ground and both crouch to either side as more cracks in the facets appear.
Spilling forth in a musical shattering of crystalline pieces, a small rose-pink dragon rolls forth from its chamber into the adoring gaze of the elven mates. Letting out the most adorable squeak, Phil lets out an ‘awwwww’ while reaching forth to rub his finger across their smooth forehead. The dragon was a mere two hands tall, blinking its blood-red eyes quickly, stretching out its wings several times its own length.
Phil finds his eyes drawn to their gaze, a consciousness brushing against his own with tentative touches he lets his walls fall for. A fierce yearning sweeps forth before endless curiosity takes its place, glancing up at the elf he held the gaze of.
“What is your name?” Phil asks.
“Technoblade.” The voice that reached him was deeper than he expected, reaching out once more the moment his hand made contact. Phil curses when a burning sensation covers his palm.
Missa watches with concern, capturing his hand he flings away before spotting the glossy sheen of rosy draconic scales and gasping in wonder. Showing his mate, Missa runs his digits across it with confusion before letting Phil take it back, holding it out to the baby dragon between them who sniffs his palm before leaning his chin into Phil’s awaiting hand.
“Technoblade?” Phil says softly, Missa tilting his head before he knows the connection, his orbs of night landing on the creature they have now adopted. “Do you know anything else?”
“I hunger.”
Turns out, that would be a sentiment echoed several times over the next few moons, their hunting missions becoming more frequent as their child developed. The happy couple of the cove took to parenting quicker than they thought, both rather young by elf standards for such responsibilities but it came surprisingly naturally.
By day Phil would take their child outside to run off the energy and taught him more about how to survive. At night Missa sang them both sweet tunes and helped give them a grounding presence to rely on, a steady foundation for them both.
Technoblade grew exponentially, going from a few hand lengths tall to up to their knees at his shoulder. Philza took to attempting to transcribe all he remembered about the Dragon Knights, hoping desperately to figure out a way to protect the family he had found among the wild forests outside Alfheimr City while studying the lore he knew.
He couldn’t have asked for a better partner at his side during this change in his life, Missa helping comfort him when he got lost in spirals of worries and concerns. Though the Drow was technically responsible for his last life-alterenting event, he was the sole reason Phil found out how to love life again.
It seems fate wasn’t out of surprises, one rainy morning when they awoke it was to a small boy with lotus-petal curly tresses snuggled between them where there once was a small rose-pink dragon with glimmering scales. Phil sat up quickly, reaching over to shake Missa’s shoulder while peering down in awe. His mate awakens yawning, his eyes widening seeing their son.
“Is this…supposed to happen?” Missa’s voice is rough in the dawn ocean air, his handsome face bare of the skull mask he normally wore once he rose for the day.
Phil could only shrug, though he held an interest in dragons most of their knowledge was buried by the High King in attempts to squash any sort of rebellion. Technoblade had already taught him so much with his simple existence, speeding through all the stages of growth Phil was familiar with. Though his own blood family died young, he still held the memories of his youth fondly watching his blood grow up around him.
Their pink-haired son joined them in the waking world with the conversation happening over him, appearing to be an elf in his toddler years. Phil reaches down to brush one of his tresses from his eyes, the small boy snuggling closer to his blonde father.
“Can he change forms?”
“I guess?” Phil lets out a giggle, Missa’s own joy joining his mate’s laugh. “I don’t remember anything from the lore mentioning such…”
Sorrow fills his tone, mourning the massive amount of history lost when the High King won control of the Kingdom of Alfheimr and struck down anyone who stood against him. For all they knew, this dragon child they had taken as their own was the last free member of his species, and it was only a matter of time until the King used his resources to track them down. Their part of the Wild Forest was isolated, none having discovered them yet but Phil kept careful watch for anything out of the ordinary.
“We will save him.” Missa guesses his mate’s thoughts perfectly. “We will raise our son to be both kind and smart, he doesn’t deserve the fate of his ancestors.”
Phil had full faith in Missa’s steadfast morales, he could not have picked a better partner to spend his long life with than the one who he found in this same forest filled with wild energies. Techno reaches up with his hand to grasp Phil’s robes, holding him impossibly close as he makes adorable content noises. Missa himself moves over to his mate and son, wrapping the blanket he carefully knit around his little family unit. They doze for the rest of the morning, admiring their son’s new form while deciding what to teach him next.
I had been lost to you, sunlight
And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight
Oh, your love is sunlight
Oh, your love is sunlight
Oh, but it is sunlight
“Father?” Techno’s voice interrupts Phil’s movements where he was preparing their dinner, peering between his parents. “How did you meet Papa?”
Roughly six months after they found him Technoblade had sped past the toddler years into a small child full of endless questions. It was much faster than either of his parents had seen elven children grow, having to adapt quickly in how to educate him next. His head brushed the bottom of his Father’s ribcage now, staring up in awe at his blonde parent while his Papa moved closer to transfer one of the serving dishes to the table nearby.
Brushing his tri-toned hair from his eyes, Father combs his fingers through with an appraising noise. “I can tell you while we trim your hair tonight, little warrior.”
Techno frowned, Phil smirking before reassuring. “I'm not going to remove it all, just shortening the length. Your Papa can braid it after, how's that?”
His Drow Papa nods, humming as he sets the table. “Anything you want, estrella.”
“I want you to pierce my ear tonight, too.” Adding his last demand, his parents trade glances.
Opposite complexions, sunlight and freedom opposing the moon and lullabies, his parents have a conversation without speaking before his Father kneels.
“An emerald earring like ours?” Techno nods as he correctly guesses, his son watching the gold trimmed piece bounce as the blonde moves. “I suppose you have grown enough.”
“But you must clean it every day, amar!” The raven-haired Drow instructs, his son agreeing immediately.
Supper is a quick affair, delicious stew and light salad from the vegetables his Father grew upon the cliffside in hanging garden beds. Papa created delicious meals full of diced harvests from said gardens and the meat he carved from the hunted prey his Father tracked.
Techno reflects on the prayers both his parents give each time before they take their first bite, aware through previous stories that their pairing was a forbidden one. But he wasn't aware of how deadly their choice was, leaving permanent scars on them both they hesitated to reveal. But their child must grow up sometime, special circumstances even beyond that of him being a mythical creature that had an affect on the world by his mere existence.
When his Father helped him settle on the stool used for various grooming tasks, the blonde’s face flickered between somber and reflective. His raven-haired Papa came to place a hand on his shoulder, meeting his blue eyes before speaking first.
“We met because your sol saved my life.” Full of the deepest affection, his Papa’s cheeks were rosy beneath the tattoo-like markings across his pale skin that outlined his bone structure below. As it was late, he removed his skull-mask, a tradition common once the sun sunk below the horizon and they were in the safety of their home. “I was injured by a rogue patrol of Light elves who dragged me out into the forest, bleeding, hoping the dire wolves would finish me off after being drawn in by the smell of my injuries.”
The small dragon boy shuddered, his Father gently snipping the ends from, his wheat blonde, rose pink and night black hair. His voice was soft, his thoughts a million feet away somewhere far off. “This Drow lay before me covered in vibrant purple essence, dying, and all he could do was give me a simple smile before saying ‘please’.”
Techno’s Papa shrugs, before sweet laughter fills the air ringing of bells in a deep cave, haunting and comforting. “This elf stood before me, a being of sunshine the only thing my fading vision could see, and I was expecting he had come to take me away.”
“Except instead of an afterlife, he brought me into his heart.”
“What did you do before you met him?” The clever hatchling was aware these were subjects neither of them had spoken about before, taking advantage of the open book.
“I was a Knight of Alfheimr City, told to keep the city up to the reputation they held it too. The measures taken to reach that perfect paradise were never the cleanest, resulting in bloodshed I regretted.” His Father reaches out with his damaged wings to caress his Papa’s, feather covered wings brushing the energy clad appendages. “I saw someone who simply asked for help and took a chance on saving a life instead of causing another death.”
“My group I had been travelling with abandoned me when the Light elves attacked, fleeing for their own safety. I do not blame them completely, but I do hold some resentment.” Papa admits, leaning into his mate’s touch.
Techno’s father works quickly on shortening his hair until it's no longer a nuisance in his face, his Papa taking one of his crow-shaded feathers to weave into the elaborate braid he tugged his son’s hair into. Once that task is completed, his blonde Father goes to locate his piercing needle while his Papa kneels before their son.
“Why did the Light elves attack you?” Techno asks, his Papa’s face changing to a pained expression. Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he finally speaks after placing a hand on his child’s small shoulder.
“We Drow are seen as dangerous creatures, tainted by death and cursed as a harbinger of demise for our mere existence. Yes, I may pray to Lady Death for protection but we don’t seek out causing such drastic harm instead asking for kindness upon our own passing. Most of my people live in the Wild Woods which is a harsh environment even in the best of times, driven away from the pretty golden city because we were different.”
“That and the traitorous High King can’t control you like he can us.” Father’s voice is thick with frustration as he returns with the steel needle in hand, Techno’s head tilt of confusion is convincing enough for him to continue. “Light elves are threatened into submission by the forsworn Dragon Knight Syndicate, Dragon Knights who aren’t able to serve the honourable purpose they once held in high regard. Instead they are destroyers of hope and enforcers for terrible ideals.”
The small dragon hatchling’s clever mind was slowly connecting points together from what they had told him before, pointing to his own chest. “You have always called me the last free dragon, is the High King why I am so lonely?”
Papa flinched at Techno’s harsh words, rubbing his son’s back while Father explained. “Yes, my love, he would be at fault for that. The Tree of Life is what my people worship, seen as the root of all life through the flora and fauna kingdoms. It is also what the bond formed between Dragon and Knight is composed of, the purest energy that lashes your souls forevermore together. The High King lives in close proximity to our Tree, able to threaten it at a moment's notice driving even the strongest to their knees for those bonds were recorded on its branches.”
“It’s been like that since before either of us walked this continent.” Papa adds, drawing out cleaning supplies from their medical kit and preparing Techno’s earlobe.
“Once the Dragon Knights fought even against royalty if it was corrupt, they served whoever held the most noble intentions. If you had been born a half century ago things would have been much different. You and I would have immediately been taken under their wings and we would have less questions about your fast development.” Honest to a fault, Techno admired his Father’s candid attitude around him.
He knew there was something different about him, besides being a dragon as he grew his features slowly shifted to be more like the parents who adopted him. The most obvious being his tri-toned tresses, something both fathers took pride in maintaining and preening for him during the times his Papa attended to his Father’s feathers.
Though he was the least physically affectionate of their unit, he still enjoyed it on occasion which was a massive difference from his parents. Papa always was touching his Father in some way, whether that be holding hands or brushing wings to ground one another and assure them their mate is near.
“Why did you never return to Alfheimr?” Asking the tough inquiries, Father flinches before answering.
“Because I chose to save a Drow’s life instead of ending Missa’s. When it was found out they broke and burned my wings as punishment, then much the same as the man I saved they dragged me out into the woods for the dire wolf's mercy.”
“I returned the favour and took him back to this cavern, which has been my home for many seasons. I nursed him back to health and he never left.” Teasing, Father’s face is bright with joy when he looks at his mate. “Our bond is also a forbidden one, just like the son he brought me to raise together after he found your egg in the Wild Woods. Light elves are restricted from ever taking a Drow mate, yet your Father ignored that and chose me.”
The blonde man smiles wide, nodding. “No Gods or Goddesses have struck us down yet, and we aren’t the only ones but it is a rare pairing to come across.”
His Father takes a heavy seat in the chair as Papa brought him, across from Techno and taking his flesh within his careful grasp. “Now please sit still, hatchling, less chances for mistakes.”
Lining up the sharp metal, his Papa coaxes their son through a few deep breaths before the blonde finishes his task. Threading a small hoop of gold through the fresh piercing, they plan to attach the emerald later once the hole healed.
His raven haired parent joins where Phil kneels, holding up their mirror for Techno to admire the new addition to his appearance. His Father’s sky eyes widen when he thinks of something, his tone dropping into a serious one. “I would recommend against taking your dragon form as long as it’s healing, son.”
Techno sneers, regretting giving up an important part of himself for vanity’s sake before he encourages his mind to view it as temporary. His instincts often screamed to take his form of scales, feeling the cool wind brushing across his gem-like hide finding the currents above their cove. Flying was something that came as natural as breathing to the dragon, ever since he passed two moons old he took to the skies without needing to be taught.
He caught the wistful looks his Father especially gave him, face full of both pride and a hint of sorrow. Techno knew his Father was permanently grounded, though he hadn’t explained in as much detail before how they came to be in such condition.
Their son reaches out his hand slowly to run his fingers gently across Father’s wing where it was clasped close to his back, asking softly. “Was it worth it?”
“A thousand times yes.” Without hesitation, Father reads through the lines of what Techno was truly asking. “My life as a Knight was fulfilling yet stressful, plus I never agreed completely with their doctrine and viewed it as unnecessarily harsh. My luna showed me another way to live, and I haven’t looked back in regret since.”
All the tales the same
Told before and told again
A soul that’s born in cold and rain
Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight
And, at last, can grant a name
To a buried and a burning flame
As love and its decisive pain
Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight