last words of a shooting star.

SILVERWOODCURSED || 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 & 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 written by Hermes (they/them) ft: Video game & anime muses from Witch Hat Atelier, Final Fantasy, Castlevania, Interview with the Vampire, Angels before Man, & more. 25+ OC AND CROSSOVER FRIENDLY.

--- info. / muses. / prompts. / starter calls.

previously crimson-sorrow.

No. No, no, no. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t the first battle Lucifer fought by the side of the Kingsglaives. By now the angel knew how to wield a weapon, even if he preferred it if he was not forced to spill someone’s blood, technically he was not here to win a war, he was here to protect a certain man and keep him alive, but especially during moments like these did Nyx make it difficult for Lucifer to do so.

The battle outside of Insomnia went on for longer than any of them had anticipated, but it seemed like it was going exactly according to Niflheim’s plans, because now that the sun was gone the Glaives were trapped in the dark, and darkness meant the appearance of daemons. Every member of the Kingsglaive was skilled in battle, fierce and fearless, but it seemed that the Empire managed to create even more ruthless daemons with every passing battle.

So when Lucifer was holding an injured Pelna down so the healer could take care of his injuries, the angel’s gaze wandered out over the battlefield, looking for that one particular Glaive, that has not only been given into his care by Bahamut, but who also had been able to win his heart and affection. When he laid eyes upon Nyx his heart almost stopped.

Nyx, the man that constantly claimed to be the hero, was sprawled out on the ground, right side and arm covered in blood, clearly incapable of defending himself as a massive daemon, which Lucifer could not yet identify as Iron Giant, stalked towards him. Raising its gigantic cleaver above its head Lucifer knew this attack would be a death warrant. If Nyx couldn’t move his arm he could not defend himself, he could not warp away, he would die there.

“No!”

There was a flash of bright light when Lucifer lounged forward, towards that daemon and the human that meant everything to him. Time seemed to slow down for him, making it possible for him to reach Nyx in time, pulling his bloodied form into his arms and then he whispered to him with a voice that was incredibly gently.

“Do not be afraid. You will be okay.”

Lucifer looked at Nyx’s face before he leaned his forehead against that of the other man, and then, with another bright light, a pair of white wings spread from the angel’s back, ere he used them to wrap the two of them in a protective cocoon. It barely hurt when the Iron Giant’s weapon cut through the feathers and into his flesh and it was the light of the angel’s aura that illuminated the battlefield for a moment and destroyed every daemon in the vicinity. Still, Lucifer knew every human on said battlefield would have lost consciousness upon seeing the divine light of his soul, every human.. except the one in his arms.

Lucifer’s voice quivered as he spoke:

This wasn’t the first time. And it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last time. But just how many more times could Qifrey handle to slip up and say the wrong thing, which would make the smart witch of the Torch figure things out, which would lead to yet another memory wipe. And another. And another.

Just like it would happen now. But Qifrey was just so damn tired and seeing Olruggio put himself through this again and again on his behalf.. it felt like his heart was shattering into tiny fragments every time it happened. Well, in a way it was good, because it meant the pain and guilt would keep Qifrey alive, but every time he saw Olruggio go through these various emotions.. first the disbelief, then the anguish once he understood what was happening to Qifrey and that there was no way to fix him, not really.. then the stubborn determination with which Olruggio offered grace and comfort and forgiveness for lying to him.

Olruggio truly was the sky’s kindest, most radiant star. And Qifrey should have stayed far away from him. The last thing he wanted to do was break Olruggio’s heart, he did not want to be the one that plucked the brightest star from the sky and extinguish its light.

Though the truth was, without Olruggio Qifrey would be dead. Or at least.. not human anymore. He would be a tree, standing tall near the Tower of Tomes that had not provided the salvation he had hoped for. Salvation was standing before him and Qifrey refused to take advantage of him any longer.

It was warm here in Olly’s room; it did not matter if they were at the bottom of the ocean, a witch like him would always find a way to make his environment comfortable. How many times had they stayed awake in here, reading, drawing, talking about the future they wanted? Would it be that bad to make Olly’s room his final resting spot?

“No, Olly.. not this time..”, Qifrey whispered as he choked on a barely suppressed sob.

Qifrey could feel the roots of the Silverwood move beneath his skin and soon after the familiar first branch was sprouting from his missing eye. This time he did not try to hide it, he was firm on his decision. This was it. He wouldn’t hurt Olruggio. Never again.

“Olly..”, the white-haired witch said breathlessly, pulling Olruggio closer, against his body so he could feel his warmth one last time as his mind would slip away. Qifrey leaned in, resting their foreheads together. His whole body was trembling, he was scared of what would happen to him now, he wondered if Beldaruit would be upset that Qifrey had not said goodbye or thanked him for everything he had done for the boy.. he wondered what being a tree would be like; would he still be able to feel and hear, would he be able to perceive Olruggio’s presence and weep because he would never be able to make him laugh again?

Qifrey dug his fingers into the soft fabric of Olruggio’s shirt, clinging to the last thing that tethered him to his human form.

Agott knew better than to disturb a witch that was drawing and working, but the young witch had not missed the quiet coughs coming from Olruggio’s workshop. It wasn’t anything unusual for the atelier to be empty except for Olruggio and Agott, as the latter rarely decided to accompany Qifrey when he took the other three of his apprentices outside to solidify everyday spells Agott could already draw with her eyes closed. And Olruggio kept repeating that he was not their master, plus, as always he had contraptions to work on, the deadlines approaching fast as he liked to point out.

She would likely never admit it but Agott felt quite lonely without any of the other girls here, or brushbuddy who liked to spread out on her papers, but without them here the silence only carried Olruggio’s pained coughs towards her even louder. She had not missed the subtle redness on his cheeks and the way his deep voice sounded slightly hoarse when they had met in the kitchen for lunch, but it sounded like his illness would only get worse overnight.

If Master Qifrey was here he would scold his friend and urge him to rest, but he most likely wouldn’t return with the others until come morning. Which meant Agott would have to make sure Olruggio would rest, or at least take a break. The both of them were similar in their personalities and desire to get things done, but somehow it worried her that Olruggio had such little regard for his health.

Quietly humming to herself Agott wrapped a thin blanket around her shoulders ere she sneaked into the kitchen, preparing a small serving of the soup Master Qifrey often made for the girls when they fell sick and balancing the full bowl in her hands she made her way towards Olruggio’s workshop. She knew she shouldn’t disturb him, it wasn’t her place to scold an adult, but maybe Olruggio would be able to see that she was just trying to express her worry and care for their Watchful Eye.

“Master Olruggio”, she says gently, almost shyly when she enters the room and approaches the man, carefully placing the bowl on Olruggio’s desk before she dared to glance at him. He looked awfully tired and exhausting, more so than usual, that was.

“I have heard you cough and… it made me worry about you. If you don’t have time to rest, maybe have some of the soup I made for you? If I did everything right it should be close to the soup Master Qifrey makes for us when we are ill and..”

The young witch looked down at her feet, feeling awfully embarrassed, she did not mean to claim her soup would be as helpful as Qifrey’s.

“I don’t think I will be able to sleep, would you mind if I.. study here alongside you?”

Think, Agott, think!, the young witch reprimanded herself as she stared at the drawings before her, none of them as perfect as they could be, all having room for improvement she did not yet know how to reach. It felt like she had not made progress in a while, all her spells lacking the creativity and power one would expect of a witch of her family.

Her family. Agott squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images from her mind that popped up every time she allowed herself to miss her family in the slightest bit. They were no longer her family, they did not love her, and still she couldn’t help but be filled with the desire to prove them wrong, to earn her place among their midst and make them regret for ever casting her out of the warmth they were supposed to give her. Today wasn’t a good day. She had been sitting at her desk for hours, barely able to keep her eyes open while also forcing herself to draw and repeat spells in an attempt to make her lines steadier. Slender fingers clawed into the paper in front of her, crushing delicate drawings between them and suddenly.. a voice. Saying her name to get her attention.

Agott’s eyes snapped open. And there she was.

“Coco..”, Agott breathed out, the name a whisper carried away by the wind through the open window. Seeing Coco was as upsetting as it was calming. How much had she seen of Agott losing herself to thoughts of the past?

Then she noticed the thing in Coco’s hand. A flower. A flower that was being offered to her.

“For… for me?”, the young witch asked as she stared at the delicate flower in Coco’s hand and she felt her cheeks turn a gentle pink as she pushed some strands of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t have to..”, she began before she stopped herself. Coco always had a way of knowing when Agott was even slightly unwell and she always found a way to distract her or cheer her up. So she reached out a hand to take the flower, lifting it to her nose to breathe in the scent.

Lifting his hand Easthies pressed his hand to his now bleeding neck, he could feel two very small puncture wounds there, left behind by the brimmed cap’s sharp fangs. He had been careless. A wave of nausea ran through his system as he watched Jae’s elongated neck snap back to normal as soon as he broke the seal he had formed by holding his fingers together. It was despicable, being this covered in forbidden magic and being proud about the changes it brought to one’s body. The man before him was no witch anymore, he was a monster. Easthies had been unaware of just how severe the changes to Jae’s body would be once he activated the magic inscribed on his skin, it had taken him by surprise and he was being punished for it as he felt the poison slowly make its way through his body.

His vision started to blur as he stared at the brimmed cap with open disgust and anger.. and a slight hint of panic. He couldn’t let himself be captured, not by Jae and his merry band of brimmed fiends, but already he could feel his insides burning, trying to fight off the poison, which would be impossible without knowing what kind of poison it was. And without an antidote. For a brief moment Easthies wondered.. did Jae have an antidote on him? Would the poison be lethal? No, he had mentioned he was only supposed to capture Easthies, they would not let him die, but falling into the hands of the brimmed caps sounded like a fate far worse.

What was even worse than the way the poison made it difficult to breathe was the obnoxious way the other witch laughed, he laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from the corners of his beautiful eyes, and Easthies couldn’t even blame him. Falling for his stupid tricks was incredibly embarrassing for a Knight of Easthies’s standing, he had every reason to laugh about him, which did not mean Easthies wouldn’t be equally upset about it.

“This is just a small victory. Capturing me will not bring you any closer to the Three Wise or the destruction of witch society”, he said with a confidence that was as faked as it was real. Easthies did not believe himself to be someone whose disappearance from the world would bring much of a change, except that the Knights Moralis would have to look for a new Deputy Captain.

Easthies dropped to a knee, one hand flat on the ground to hold himself up, but it was obvious that he was already in very bad shape; his heart was pounding in his chest, his body felt like it was burning and still he trembled as if he were a man wandering through snow without a coat on. Everything about Easthies was defiance, that was the way he had been raised and trained, and still, not even he could hide every trace of fear as he looked up at Jae, the tremble of his body getting worse and worse.

sniffling, ininia wraps herself up in a blanket. between the shivering, her stuffy red nose, and the aching of her wrists where the silverwood took root, you could say she's not exactly doing well.

she hates being sick more than anything else.

"....do not come near me," ininia insists, though the command comes out much weaker than intended.

...

Things had been.. weird ever since that fateful night of the last Silver Eve. Losing one’s memories, becoming the apprentice to someone who supposedly was dear to him and surviving the attack of a gigantic rampage leech. Galga was busy practicing his magic, but he couldn’t forget about the little girl he had carried through half the city in an attempt to keep her alive, only for her to mysteriously vanish before the whole ordeal was over. He often thought about her, wondered about her fate, wondered if she was still alive or if losing sight of her had been a death warrant.

Thoughts like that tormented him on a daily basis, so it was a surprise when he found the young girl holed up in a shack in the middle of nowhere, clearly suffering symptoms of a very severe cold.

“It’s you..”, he whispered, stepping closer despite her advising him not to do so. He knelt down beside the girl, a mixture of worry and relief on his face. She was alive.. that was all that mattered.

“I have been worried sick about you”, Galga added, rummaging through his bag before he hesitated. He was a witch, and it was forbidden for witches to know anything about healing craft, so he did not have anything on hand that could help her. Galga reached out a hand to place it atop her forehead, testing her temperature, then he pulled out his water bottle which he lifted to her lips.

I love you for sending this, this is such an interesting thing to think about. Easthies doesn’t know what a vacation is, Vinanna probably very rarely grants him a day off and when she does he still thinks he has better things to do than to relax. Even when he is not on duty he will do at least one training session a day to stay sharp and in shape.