Archive of Our Own

It happened when they were lying in bed one evening.

Pure Vanilla was lying comfortably sprawled out across Shadow Milk’s bare chest, basking in the afterglow of their… previous escapades.

“Vanilla?”

“Mm?”

“What does… ‘V-4-N-1’ mean?”

His jam turned to ice and he shot up, unable to stop the trembling that came over his body; he brought a hand to clasp over the raised scarring on his shoulder.

Desperate pleas. Gloved hands. Molten iron against his skin. Pain engulfing his arm. His own sobs ringing in his ears-

Pure Vanilla’s hair draped around his lowered head like curtains as he took in a shaky breath, wings tight against his back, the feathers on them puffed up like cream cat’s hackles.

The cheers of the crowd as he stood over an unconscious hybrid. “You’re gonna have to fight today.” The smell of jam-

“Hey hey- You’re fine, Nilla. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me.” Blue hands hovered around him as his husband seemingly tried to figure out whether or not touching him was okay.

Hands in his feathers. “Pretty wings for a pretty bird.” The cage-

He forced the intrusive memories from his head.

After a few tense moments, he sighed, forcing his body to relax.

Closing his eyes with a tight frown, he turned his head towards Shadow Milk. “I… You deserve to know, but…”

The Avian sighed, eyes opening once again with a heavy gaze as he looked at the Beast. “It would be easier to just… show you. Can we…?”

Shadow Milk blinked at the unspoken question and nodded, snapping the two’s souljams into existence in front of them. The gemstones hovered in the air in front of the two wielders.

“Are you sure, Nills?”

He nodded wordlessly, using his hands to push the two gems together.

It felt like lightning struck him from within, and Pure Vanilla gasped at the feeling.

They had done this so many times before, combining into one being, but he never got used to the feeling.

When the power settled, he could feel rampant concern and curiosity coming from his other half.

Yes, he could feel it before with the soulbond. But with their souls now combined like this, it felt much more potent, like they were his own emotions.

In a way, he supposed, they were his own when the two of them were like this.

“You said there were memories you were unable to access when I was sealed in the Other Realm with you, yes?”

“Mhm. I could see most of yours, which definitely cured my boredom in that stupid tree, but some were… blocked.”

He sighed.

“This is one of them. I blocked it off myself to prevent it from looming over me day after day. But sometimes… things break through.”

Pure Vanilla felt a hand grasp his own.

“And you’re sure you trust me with this?”

“I am.”

And with that, he opened the floodgates and let the memories wash over both of them.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

“Are we there yet? I’m getting quite tired of hovering overtop of you all.”

Dark Cacao sighed, flicking the map he held in annoyance. “The answer has not changed since you asked thirty seconds ago, Golden Cheese.”

The cheddar peahen in question groaned dramatically, but kept her flight at the same brisk pace the rest of their group had adopted.

Pure Vanilla looked up at her and caught her eye. “You do not always have to be in the air, you know. You could always join us on the ground.”

“And risk my bare heels touching the dirt? I think not!”

The vanilla dove elected not to mention how he also lacked footwear , and instead had a different idea. “Would it please you if I joined you in the sky instead?”

Golden Cheese paused, staying in place for a moment before a grin spread across her face. “I would be delighted, my Treasure!” 

Making sure he didn’t hit White Lily or Hollyberry with his snowy white wings, Pure Vanilla took off from the ground and joined her in the open air.

The two climbed in altitude until they could comfortably soar but not worry about losing sight of the others below them.

The wind up here was much cooler, and swept through the dove’s hair pleasantly. He always enjoyed the rare occasions he got to simply fly and enjoy the breeze rustling through his feathers.

A click from Golden Cheese brought his attention back to her; she looked conflicted. “You didn’t have to do that, Nilla. I was… complaining as a joke.” 

She was speaking in Avis. Both of them knew the language intrinsically, as it was their native Avian language that was almost hardwired into them.

“I knew that, but I don’t mind flying with you Golden Cheese. In fact, I quite enjoy our time together up here.” He cooed back, sliding the tip of his wing over hers for a moment.

Her frown gave way to a small, but genuine, smile. “You always know what to say to make me feel better, don’t you?”

Pure Vanilla laughed softly. “I’m just being honest with you; it just happens to work out that my words provide comfort.” 

The rest of the flight was spent in comfortable silence, only broken occasionally by boisterous laughter from Hollyberry below them.

Eventually, a small town came into view and the two Avians descended down to flying just above their group. 

“Before you ask, Cheesy: We are, in fact, here.” Dark Cacao said gruffly, although there was a slight hint of mirth in his voice.

As they reached the cobblestone roads, Pure Vanilla swooped down and landed on the ground in between Hollyberry and Lily. The former of which didn’t even stumble when Golden Cheese landed and perched herself on the knight’s broad shoulders.

It was something both of them would occasionally do, Golden Cheese more so than Pure Vanilla. Due to their smaller stature, genetically lightweight body structure, and altered leg bones, they were able to perch on the shoulders of all members of their group without much problem. 

The retractable talons on their toes and heels came in particularly useful when they wished to do this!

The dove glanced around Hollyberry to glance at the peahen who was folding her yellow wings behind herself now that she had gained her balance. 

“So where is the inn we are staying at?” Pure Vanilla asked, glancing at the moderately tall buildings around them. 

“Oh, right, you were up in the sky when we discussed this. It should be just a few blocks down from here.” White Lily responded, shifting her gaze over to him.

Sure enough, a large tree shaped building came into view. And once they got closer, he could see the name.

‘Oak Grove Inn.’

Neat!

His Avian side internally cheered at getting to sleep in a tree, and judging from the way Golden Cheese’s aural feathers raised, she was thinking the same thing.

Before they entered the building, the cheddar peahen jumped off of Hollyberry’s shoulders, walking beside Pure Vanilla instead.

There was… surprisingly no line, and they managed to walk straight up to the front desk.

A pale doughed cookie with long dark green hair came around the corner and greeted them. “Hi there! I’m Acorn Macaroon! What can I do for you?”

Despite Pure Vanilla standing in front of the others, she instead looked to Dark Cacao, who seemed puzzled but accepted his new role.

“We would like one room, preferably with two king sized beds.”

In hotels, they would typically get two beds and push them together. It was just more comfortable to sleep as a group that way. Ever since they had started traveling together, all five of them would join in a cuddle pile.

This was both for safety and warmth when they were outdoors. It just happened to be a necessity indoors now, as none of them were able to sleep without at least one of their partners in range.

“Alright! That would be… one hundred twenty five gold.”

Only one hundred twenty five gold? That’s… surprisingly cheap.

Almost suspiciously so…

He was overthinking it; he shouldn’t look a peppermint gift horse in the mouth.

Dark Cacao wordlessly handed over the gold, muted surprise on his face.

The innkeeper smiled “This will take a bit to set up, would you mind waiting down here?”

“That’s fine.”

She brought her hand up, repeating their room specifications into her palm, where magic had started brewing, and sent it up through the ceiling.

Huh, was that some sort of communication spell between her and the other staff?

It was silent for a moment before Acorn Macaroon spoke up again. “So, what are your two little birds’ names?”

Ah.

Pure Vanilla and Golden Cheese grimaced at each other.

She was one of those cookies.

“Excuse me?” Hollyberry looked flabbergasted.

“Your birds. I’m awfully curious about them.”

White Lily frowned. “You can ask them yourself, ma’am.”

“Do they speak Common?”

She was just talking about them like they weren’t even there…

Golden Cheese spoke up at this point. “How dare you assume we are just some common pets! My radiant self could never belong to another!”

Pure Vanilla jumped in. “Apologies, miss. What she means to say is to please not presume our status in relations to our partners. We are all equals in our relationship.”

The innkeeper stared at him for a moment before smiling. “You have awfully pretty wings, what kind of hybrid are you, little bird?”

He drew them closer to himself, an uncomfortable smile appearing on his lips. “I… Pardon my rudeness, but I don’t feel comfortable answering that question.”

The magic from before floated back down and burst in front of her with a small poof.

“Ah, your room is ready! You are in one hundred and thirty two.”

Still trying to be polite, he nodded. “Thank you ma’am, have a good night.”

He could feel her gaze on his wings as he left, and Golden Cheese had the same tense posture as he did. Though, she looked far angrier.

Once they had made it to their room and closed the door, that was when she released her rampage. “Who does she think she is?! Treating us as typical pets! Why, I thought those old fashioned beliefs died years ago! How dare she presume that I of all cookies would let myself be owned and subservient to anyone but myself! I ought to go back there and-”

Pure Vanilla tuned out her rants in favor of unpacking his bag. There wasn’t much in there, as he preferred to stay lightweight while traveling, but he would quite like to properly wash his hair while they had running water.

Pulling out the two miniature bottles of shampoo and conditioner respectively, the dove turned to Golden Cheese, who was still going on her angry tirade.

Clearing his throat, he got her attention. “My love, could you help me wash my wings in the shower?” 

Immediately her expression brightened, and her own yellow wings rose behind her. “Is that even a question, my Treasure? I would love to!”

With the atmosphere of the room successfully lightened, Pure Vanilla led the peahen into the bathroom with him.

Taking off all his clothes always made him feel a little dysphoric, as that meant removing his chest binder.

Yes, he had already had surgery, but he still didn’t like looking at what remained of his breasts. Pure Vanilla took pride in the scars, but he was still around an A-cup even after the procedure.

“Ah ah, I know that look. Don’t get in your own head about it.” Golden Cheese said, tapping his forehead.

He sighed fondly and forced his hands to pull the material over his head. 

Shrugging it off quickly, the dove pointedly didn’t look in the mirror. Instead, he walked over to the shower and turned the nozzle, letting the water heat up and placing the soap bottles inside.

“You don’t have to be ashamed, you know. Dick or no dick you’re still our partner, we love you for you. Anyone who only loves you for your birth gender can have a chat with the wrong end of my spear.”

Flushing at both the praise and the crude wording, Pure Vanilla nodded, a smile adorning his lips as he averted his gaze.

While he knew what she would say, it still made his heart flutter anytime one of them said something similar.

He could feel steam wafting between his feathers and turned around. With a quick check using his hand, the dove confirmed that it was hot enough.

“Well? Ladies first.” Pure Vanilla grinned and bowed, gesturing to the opened glass door.

“Gosh, you charmer. See, at least you know how to treat an Avian with respect.” She sauntered in, and he followed quickly behind her.

Sliding the door closed behind him, he giggled. “It’s not that much of an accomplishment, really. I just have basic cookie decency. Besides, I’m one too, how could I disrespect one of my own kind?”

Gathering the shampoo in his hands, Pure Vanilla started scrubbing it into his hair, and she followed suit. 

As she did so, she spoke. “You’d be surprised, my Treasure. Some hybrids are just simply horrendous.”

“Not most of them, though. There are bound to be bad apples in every bunch, you just have to see the good in those who aren’t.”

He rinsed his head under the water, but he still heard her reply. “You see the good in everyone, dear. Even those who don’t deserve it.”

Pulling his head back and moving out of her way, Pure Vanilla grabbed the conditioner bottle. “All cookies deserve a chance to be better, you just need to give them that opportunity. There’s a bit of good in everyone, I just know it!”

The peahen took the bottle from him. “Cao’s nickname for you gets more and more accurate everyday.”

Ah, yes. Dark Cacao often referred to him as Sunlight, and when probed for the reason behind it, he said that Pure Vanilla was as bright as the sun in both personality and beauty.

It… took a while for his face to not flush every time he gazed at his boyfriend after that.

“I just… have a lot of hope for Cookiekind.” 

They lapsed into silence after that, each rinsing their hair before moving on to their wings. 

The feathers in each of their wings had, admittedly, seen better days. Their group had been traveling for quite a while, and weren’t exactly safe enough anywhere to do more than a minor preening session each night to remove larger debris.

Water helped speed the process along, however.

Pure Vanilla went first, and sighed happily at the feeling of her fingers spreading the feathers, making sure the water was able to wash away anything stuck underneath the many layers and get down to the downy base underneath the sturdier feathers on top.

His other partners were good at preening his wings, but nothing compared to having another Avian do it. Other bird hybrids knew the exact right areas for everything, where things were likely to get trapped, and also-

The dove's unconscious coo was met with an equally instinctual whistle from the peahen.

-Avian hybrids could satisfy that itch in his head to communicate with his flock when bonding like this. But, having his partners respond in Common was somewhat of a viable substitute.

Now, this all didn’t mean he didn’t love his non-Avian partners doing it just as much.

White Lily’s fingers were slimmer than all of his other partners, and longer too. She could reach debris with ease, even stuff Golden Cheese had trouble grabbing.

Hollyberry was great when it came to spotting things. Sure, Pure Vanilla could feel them, but she somehow intrinsically knew where everything was. 

And Dark Cacao, despite his looks, was the gentlest out of everyone. The dove, without fail, always fell asleep when his boyfriend preened his wings under the soft touches. He wasn’t the only one, though. Golden Cheese would be out like a light by the time he was finished with her. 

The downside to this fact, for his oh so stoic partner, was that he was almost always dragged into the feathery cuddle pile on preening nights because of this.

For that matter, anyone else who approached them was also liable to get trapped underneath the fluffy entanglement of wings.

“What are you thinking about over there, my Treasure? I can hear your brain whirring like a candy drill.” 

Pure Vanilla blinked. “Oh, just about how much I love each and every one of you.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Golden Cheese started laughing. 

She moved in front of him while still giggling. “You are ridiculous, my love.”

Blush crept back up his face as he started sorting through her wings, relaxing his own behind him. “I just hold so much love for you all in my heart, it’s hard not to reflect on it all now and then, especially in times of quiet.”

The peahen didn’t respond in Common, just giving him an amused titter for his efforts.

Shaking his head with a silent sigh, he fell into the routine motions of preening his flockmate, mind already starting to wander again.

Technically, Avian hybrids could simply use magic to clean their wings.

Almost all cookies could do that, in fact. Using magic to simply… will away unwanted substances was extremely common among those who had at least an intermediate grasp on their magic.

Still, Pure Vanilla disliked doing so unless necessary, as he quite liked baths. And it was known throughout Avian hybrids that using magic to clean their wings too often tended to lead to adverse mental health effects.

Besides, why would he willingly give up an opportunity to bond with his partners?

One might think he wouldn’t get the same joy out of preening another’s wings as he did having his own cleaned. But, this was far from the case!

He loved taking care of his flock!

And Golden Cheese wasn’t the only one who got to experience Pure Vanilla dragging his lover over to a couch to begin the preening process, as his other partners got the same treatment!

Sure, they didn’t have wings, but that didn’t matter to him. They had hair, after all, and he could work with that just fine.

The dove removed his hands from her feathers. “Alright, I’m done, dear.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “Thank you, my Treasure.”

As soon as the water was turned off, he could feel his wings trying, and failing, to puff up from the sudden loss of heat.

After all, the feathers laid fairly flat when wet, and they would need to re-oil them to regain their waterproof coating once they weren’t already waterlogged.

Grabbing two towels, and handing one to Golden Cheese, he started the rather mundane process of drying his hair.

Pure Vanilla also flicked his wrist to dry both their wings with magic, as it would take at least half a day for them to dry out naturally.

Redressing was a quiet process, and both swiftly emerged soon after stepping out of the shower.

Hollyberry and White Lily were there, but he noted that Dark Cacao was absent.

“Lily, where’s Cao?” Golden Cheese asked, adjusting the towel on her head that was cocooning her yellow locks.

“Oh, someone came by and said the hotel provides dinner free of charge, so he’s down there placing our orders.”

They got two king sized beds and free dinner? Just for one hundred and twenty five gold?

That suspicious feeling from before came back, and he tried to keep his face neutral in front of the others.

Yes, it was only for one night, but still… Twenty five gold for each of them to stay, use their electricity, and eat their food seemed like the hotel would be making a net loss.

There was something else at play here, he just knew it!

“-re Vanilla?” He blinked, looking up at Golden Cheese.

“Ah- Yes, my dear?”

She frowned. “Are you alright, my Treasure? You looked like you were trying to burn a hole through the floorboards with how hard you were staring at them.”

“I was just simply lost in thought for a moment, nothing more. We’ve all had a long day, haven’t we?”

The peahen didn’t seem convinced, but she dropped the matter regardless. “Well, we need to reapply the wing oil to our feathers, do you have the bottle?”

Perking up at the welcome distraction, he grabbed his bag, rifling around in it for a moment before grasping the ointment. 

“Oho! Mind if we help?” Hollyberry spoke from the bed. At some point, presumably while they were showering, the others had pushed the two bedframes together.

Golden Cheese grinned, running over and jumping practically into the knight’s lap.

Well, he supposed he didn’t have much of a choice, now.

Not that he would have refused, regardless.

White Lily delicately lowered herself atop the mattress as well, looking at him expectantly.

With a fond sigh, Pure Vanilla joined the three women, setting the bottle between himself and the other Avian, who both were now seated at the foot of the bed with the other two behind them.

As soon as he placed it down, it was snatched up by Hollyberry and she poured some on her fingers, coating them in the substance before working her hands into the golden wings in front of herself.

Almost instantaneously, Golden Cheese’s body relaxed and a content sigh escaped her lips. Pure Vanilla only had a few moments to admire the sight before thin fingers were trailing through his own coverts, and he hummed pleasantly at the feeling.

Letting his eyes slip shut, the dove focused on the sensations behind him. He could hear a few chirps and trills around him, some of which most likely coming from himself, and the resulting giggling of Hollyberry and White Lily, but he couldn’t find it in him to be embarrassed.

“You two really do make the cutest sounds.” Hollyberry said, a grin evident in her tone.

Golden Cheese twittered something under her breath, and that only made the other woman laugh more.

Pure Vanilla chittered indignantly, and huffed at White Lily’s laughter behind him.

The hands left his wings and he couldn’t help the confused and whiny coo that left him. His face flushed once he registered the sound he just made, growing even darker when the other Avian next to him started giggling.

“I’m just getting more of the oil, Vani. No need to worry.”

Then, a similar sound came from Golden Cheese, and Hollyberry started laughing. “We sure do have some needy birds, don’t we, Lily?”

The peahen gave an embarrassed churr and smacked his thigh when he gave her a teasing trill.

He simply smirked and went back to enjoying the hands in his feathers.

Pure Vanilla wasn’t sure how fast or slow time passed after that, but he was brought out of the pleasant preening daze by the sound of their door opening.

Blinking open his eyes, he saw Dark Cacao there, the innkeeper following behind him and wheeling in a cart of food.

The dove hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he smelled the food. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Was it at breakfast?

…

Did he even have breakfast today?

Tossing that thought aside to never be picked up again, Pure Vanilla looked over at the others, smiling when he saw Golden Cheese also blinking away the instinctual haze like himself.

He opened his mouth, trying to ask if they wanted to eat on the bed or on the floor, seeing as they didn’t have a table. However, all that came out when he tried to ask was a quiet warble, which was not his intention.

Blushing, he tried again. “Er… We don’t have a table, where would you all like to eat?”

Lily hummed. “I’m worried about eating in the bed, as we don’t have spare sheets if something gets spilled…”

They could always just ask for spare sheets, but he supposed it would be better to avoid staining them to begin with.

Hollyberry spoke up next. “Bah, we’ve eaten sitting by the fire before! The hardwood shouldn’t be that different. Besides, we can all share our food that way!”

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, Pure Vanilla nodded. “Alright, let's gather in a circle then. Cao, would you mind helping me pass out the food?” 

The warrior nodded wordlessly at his request, looking to White Lily, who had already started laying five pillows in a circle.

Soon enough, all five of them had their meals in front of them and the innkeeper wheeled the cart out.

Dark Cacao had gotten himself and Hollyberry jelly steaks, White Lily a salad, Golden Cheese some candy pasta, and Pure Vanilla a bowl of jelly stew.

It was… good. There was a strange aftertaste to the stew, but he didn’t mind it that much. Perhaps he would have disliked it more if he wasn’t so hungry.

The others seemed to share his same feeling though, as they all seemed slightly puzzled on their first bite but were still eating ravenously regardless.

Although, after a few minutes he began to feel… odd. 

His limbs felt heavier and a mounting pressure began to build in his head.

It was probably just the fatigue of the day catching up with him. The Avian shook his head, which didn’t help with the pain, and set the stew down in front of him. 

He was just tired.

At least, that was what Pure Vanilla thought until the headache got worse and he noticed the corners of his vision swaying dangerously.

That wasn’t good…

A wave of drowsiness hit him suddenly, and he brought a hand to his forehead. Or, at least, he attempted to. All his arm did was twitch sadly beside him.

What the Ovens…?

He heard a utensil clatter next to him, and a concerningly high amount of effort needed, the Avian raised his head to see… White Lily slumped against Dark Cacao?

Neither of them looked good. In fact, she seemed to be entirely unconscious, and his warrior partner was getting there too.

Witches…

Then, a thunk rang out next to him, and he saw Golden Cheese laying limply on her side.

A wave of unprecedented dizziness hit him, and he had a few seconds to watch his worldview tilt around him before pain shot through the side of his head, further amplifying the horrendous vertigo.

He heard the sound of the door opening, and a pair of boots walked into his line of view.

Echoed sounds of heels clicking were the last thing the Avian sensed as everything went dark.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The first thing Pure Vanilla noticed was a splitting headache. It almost made him want to fall back asleep and forget the idea of even waking up to begin with. Although the second thing he noticed was concerning, that being the cold hard stone his body was resting on.

Slim fingers carded through his hair, seemingly absentmindedly. His head was propped up on their lap from what he could feel. 

A pang of pain from the headache made him groan and curl in on himself. He would need to heal that soon.

“My Treasure? Are you awake?” Golden Cheese?

Pure Vanilla gave her a strained chuckle. “Unfortunately… Where are we?” That was when he noticed how rough his voice sounded. 

Setting that though aside, he sat up and finally opened his eyes. All things considered, it didn’t help much. His vision without his staff was far from ideal, only really able to make out the colors of the objects not directly in front of him.

He could see grey walls, made out of what he could only assume was stone or concrete, along with metal bars on what he thought was the north side of the room. To his right, he saw a small, dingy looking bed attached to the wall.

How cozy…

Golden Cheese’s voice brought him back to reality. “I… wish I knew. I myself only woke up a few minutes before you.”  

She sighed. “We seem to be in a cell of some sort. They should really provide better accommodations; this is far from how to treat a lady!”

How had they gotten here? What happened? The thing he could recall was…

The hotel.

“We were drugged.” Pure Vanilla’s voice was barely above a whisper, horror flooding his system at the revelation. 

“What?” 

“The food we ate; it was laced with soporifics.” He watched as her face paled with the same realization that he just had.

That would explain why his head hurt, at least. Sedatives tended to have that effect from what he knew as a healer. 

Although, when Pure Vanilla reached up to get rid of the pesky thing, his magic just… didn’t react? He could feel it thrumming under his skin like a heartbeat, but it refused to answer his call. 

When he looked down at his hand to try and figure out why, the dove realized there was a large metallic bracelet on his wrist. 

Golden Cheese must have noticed him staring at it and explained. “It’s a magic inhibitor. It blocks a cookie’s magic from reacting to commands.”

That would explain a few things.

Then he noticed that the long sleeves on his dress had been cut off, leaving it looking more like a tank top. A quick glance at the other Avian’s told him that hers had been too. 

Odd.

“Wait, if we’re down here… Where are the others?” She asked, golden brows furrowing in concern.

“Perhaps in separate holding areas?”

She paused. “Why were we even taken to begin with? What could they possibly want from me, aside from my radiant presence to brighten up this dreary place?”

Pure Vanilla fixed his gaze on the floor as he thought aloud.

“The innkeeper… She didn’t seem to view us as cookies, more like accessories or pets, and she was the one who brought us the food.” His head snapped up. “Could this place be-”

A bang on the steel bars of their cell froze him in place. Wings fluffed behind him as he whipped his head around.

A tall, muscular figure stood in the doorway, spear held by his side. “If you girls are done chattering-” Dysphoria washed over his body like a wave, and his wings curled around his body. “-then get up and get in line.” 

He heard the rustling of fabric next to him as Golden Cheese stood, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, my partner is not a girl, you oaf.” She must’ve noticed his discomfort with the label.

“I don’t care what the little bird identifies as, she just needs to follow orders.” 

“Just who do you think you’re talking to, blockhead?”

“What did you just call me?”

Before the peahen could dig them further in a hole, Pure Vanilla stood up and shoved the welling emotions down. “It’s fine, Golden Cheese. Let’s just… do what he says.” 

The dove stepped forward, and heard her fall in line behind him with muttered complaints. Various species of hybrids could be seen once they left their cell. He spotted a few wolf and fox hybrids, along with a goat and even a snake!

The two Avians stepped to the back, with Pure Vanilla noting that they seemed to be the only birds so far.

As who he assumed was the Warden continued the banging and gathering routine with the other cells ahead, he spoke quietly to Golden Cheese. The dove opted to use Avis rather than Common, seeing as they were the only two who could understand it so far.

“Do you… know what this place is?” He churred quietly.

She nodded with a grim expression. “Hybrid Trading.” 

Good, they were on the same page.

“I had only heard rumors about its existence… I didn’t think I would ever actually experience it for myself…” Pure Vanilla glanced at the others around him.

“Well, is it everything you ever hoped? Are you satisfied to check it off the bucket list, now?” Golden Cheese narrowed her eyes with a smile.

“Hardly. What would you call the opposite of a bucket list? That’s where I would put this.”

She let out a chirping giggle, getting some odd looks from the hybrids around them.

He was glad she also opted to make light of the situation. Afterall, it was better to keep a positive attitude for as long as possible rather than immediately succumb to the overwhelming pressure and fear of it all. 

The dove could plot and scheme better this way, too.

From what he could tell, the guards all had key rings attached to their person in some way. Although he would need to keep an eye out for exits. How would he slip a keyring off of one of them, anyway? 

He isn’t exactly a pickpocket. However, Golden Cheese, from what she had shared about her past, was.

If he could have her ‘borrow’ one from them, and locate a proper passage out, they would be free. Though that would also require learning the guards’ schedules and designated stations, as they were most likely positioned at each of the exits.

Pure Vanilla would have to try and memorize the layout at every chance he got…

“I know that look, are you already forming a plan?”

A small smile slipped onto his lips. “Perhaps.”

“I suppose this is why you are the leader.”

It was true.

Despite being the youngest out of his friends, the dove had enough natural skill in forming strategies and problem solving to become their designated leader.

He still found it strange to command others in battle, but he was thankful that he was able to prevent them from potentially getting hurt by doing so.

Then, he noticed something that shifted his train of thought.

The line in front of him was getting thinner.

Pure Vanilla realized it was because they were all heading into a side door. 

That was… mildly concerning.

Inside, there was an older cookie, who was sitting at a podium and looking them all over.

Once the last of them had trickled in, the door was shut with a loud bang.

That was when the man spoke. “Half Red Cakewolf, male, twenty nine, lesser value.” He wrote something. “Full Speckled Licorice Lizard, male, thirty two, moderate value.” 

Was he… categorizing them? Like common animals?

“Full Candy Goat, female, twenty one, moderate value. Half Jelly Pig, male, thirty five, lesser value.”

After a few more hybrids, he got to Pure Vanilla. “Hmm, interesting. Full Albino Vanilla Dove, female, eighteen, extremely high value. The second albino hybrid to ever come through here…”

Another wave of dysphoria mixed with discomfort hit him and he grimaced, pulling his wings around the sides of his body.

“Full Cheddar Peahen, female, twenty, high value. Exotic.” He noticed Golden Cheese curl her lip in disgust at the descriptor.

The dove stopped paying attention to what the man was saying after that, more focused on how he knew so many species. 

How did he know Pure Vanilla was an albino? Most assumed he was some sort of Salt Seagull or Sugar Swan before even considering lack of pigmentation as an answer.

Was it wing shape? Body type? Maybe even skin tone? How did he know?

“-ey! I’m talking to you! Get moving, feather-brain!” A rough shove on the shoulder quite literally pushed him out of his own head.

Narrowly avoiding falling over, Pure Vanilla looked up at the unfamiliar guard. “My apologies, I was simply lost in-”

He was cut off with a not so gentle tug on his arm. “Yeah, yeah. Zip it, hybrid.” The grip on his forearm tightened enough to leave a bruise, and the dove bit his lip to stifle a whimper at the pain.

Golden Cheese sent the man death stares and Pure Vanilla heard a quiet, unhappy chitter escape her.

Once he was released, she immediately started fussing over him. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you, my Treasure?” She trilled, lightly running her hand over his arm.

Even the minor pressure from her finger made him flinch. “It’s… alright. It’s nothing I can’t walk off.”

“That brickfaced, no-good, shoe-lace eating-” A muffled scream from down the hallway stopped her angry rant in its tracks.

The two looked in the direction the sound came from then back at each other, both of their feathers having instinctually puffed up.

Taking a shaky breath, he continued his previous conversation. “Really, I’m fine. In all honesty, I’m more worried about whatever is taking place ahead of us.”

She nodded wordlessly, before another muted wail of agony echoed through the corridor. This time, it was a different voice. 

“Is it too much to hope we won’t join the choir of shrieks that will ring in this hallway for decades?” Golden Cheese chittered, wings drawn tight behind her in an uneasy manner.

“I fear that may be asking too much of our captors.” He surmised, before continuing. “Perhaps, if it is a physical ailment, I could persuade them to let me heal those in pain.”

Another scream.

She raised an eyebrow. “Vanilla, they are the ones causing the physical ailment you speak of. Do you really think they would let you erase their work?” 

He supposed she had a good point.

“I just… wish I could help. I dislike seeing others in pain.” He cooed softly, wings sagging behind him.

They were quickly lifted in favor of a more tense position as the screeches of their fellow hybrids grew closer with each step up in line.

Yellowed feathers brushed against his own, knocking a bit of the stiffness out of his wings. “I know you do. That’s one of the things I love about you, Nilla. That’s also one of your biggest weaknesses, you big softie.” A wry smile spread across Golden Cheese’s  face.

Pure Vanilla rolled his eyes. “Yes yes, I understand this. Who are you, Hollyberry?”

Her shoulders shook with stifled giggles. “I suppose one of us had to take up her mantle of ‘woefully mistimed humor.’”  

They lapsed into silence as he thought for a moment. “How do you think they’re doing?”

She looked away from his face. “If they were down here, we most likely would have seen them. Or at least have heard them. Meaning they are most likely free. Besides, none of them are hybrids, anyway.” 

“If that is true, they’re probably looking for us.” He chirped,

A bored voice spoke in front of them. “Alright, peahen, you’re next.” 

With a determined, yet apprehensive face, she walked in. Pure Vanilla gave a small, encouraging trill as she walked through the doorway, which she matched with her own before the metal door shut.

He could hear her voice inside, along with a low timbre responding to her increasingly panicked intonations. And although he couldn’t make out the words themselves, he knew whatever was happening inside was far from ideal.

Even though he knew it was coming, he still trembled when her agonized screech tore through the air. A purely animalistic sound. What followed it was her choked insults getting closer to the door as she was escorted out.

“-sick fucks! May the Witches damn you all to horrible fates beyond your comprehension!” Her voice was wobbly with rage and pain.

He could see her hand covering… something on her shoulder. Although he couldn’t see what it was and didn’t have time to ask. 

“‘Kay. Dove, you’re up.” 

He wordlessly walked in, anxiety making his hairs and feathers stand on end.

The room reeked of… burned dough.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty sight. Just like the little birdy before you.” The man in front of him had a deep tan, with scarred dough running along his face and arms. A thick, dark curling beard matched his hair.

His hands were covered by soot stained gloves, and in them… were heated metal rods with various attachable tips scattered on the floor next to him. There was also a forge to his right, with a large flame inside.

Pure Vanilla was going to be branded.

These cookies really did see hybrids as common animals, didn’t they?

The dove took a step back, heart racing beneath his chest. Hands from behind him gripped his shoulder and shoved him forward without hesitation. 

“Burnt Mango, could you strap this one down for me?” The bearded cookie asked, sorting through the tips of his machinery casually, as if he wasn’t about to leave a permanent mark on another cookie’s dough.

The cookie behind Pure Vanilla didn’t speak, just grabbed his shoulders and kept pushing him towards a chair with several detachable binds on it.

“Wait! Wait no, please! Surely we can work something else out, right? This is not necessary!” He pleaded.

It was to no avail. His cries didn’t even seem like they registered to the others in the room, just mindless background noise. 

To his horror, he realized that probably was what it sounded like to them. With how practiced the whole routine seemed, calls for mercy most likely held no weight to them anymore.

He was shoved into the chair, and was held in place with one hand while the other used the elastic belts to lock his body and limbs into place.

It seemed like the more Pure Vanilla struggled, the tighter the grip on his dough got. “Burnt Mango! That is your name, correct? Please, do you know what kind of organization you are working for? You don’t have to do this, you can-” An ash covered hand over his mouth made him pause.

“This little bird sure does talk a lot.” The bearded cookie spoke, removing the glove from his lips. “Most hybrids here cuss us out, call us deranged lunatics. You? You actually tried to reason with us. I must say, it’s a welcome change.” 

He could feel the sweltering metal get closer to his left shoulder before he could see it. The sheer heat radiating off of it reached his dough far before the rod itself. 

Pure Vanilla opened his mouth for one final attempt at persuasion, but all that came out was a wordless cry as the branding iron suddenly dug into his dough. His arm felt like it was on fire. He struggled futilely against his restraints, instincts going haywire trying anything to get him away from the searing pain.

He could feel tears beading his ivory lashes; a few even started trickling down his face as he sobbed and panted from the overwhelming pain. 

It didn’t get better once the metal was pulled away. That just seemed to irritate the welt even more, as it yanked some of his dough off that had started melting together and sticking to the iron.

The straps were pulled off of his limbs and he was yanked up, dazedly stumbling towards the door as unkind hands shoved him towards it. 

Once he was in the corridor, he was sent to the back of the line where Golden Cheese waited for him. She immediately started fussing over him and asking questions. None of them registered though. The heartbeat in his ears was far louder.

His wings curled around his shoulders, carefully avoiding his new wound, and he just leaned against her. The peahen’s voice abruptly stopped as he did so, and soon, hands came and wrapped around his back while her golden feathers barricaded them from the view of the outside world.

The rest of the time before they arrived back in the cell flew by in a haze of muffled words, touches, and gray walls. 

When the door slammed closed behind them, that finally snapped his mind back into place.

“Golden Cheese, are you alright? Let me see your shoulder.” He rushed over to her, and saw her surprised face.

“My Treasure, I feel like I should be asking you that question. I haven’t seen you so instinctually rattled like that in quite a long time.” She didn’t fight him though, and bared the welt on her left arm to him.

He decided to not acknowledge what she said for now, instead directing his attention to addressing her burn.

It was quite ugly looking. And though his vision was hazy, he could make out the letters and numbers burnt into her dough. “This says C-H-3-S-E. Is that… your identifying tag for down here?” He wondered aloud.

He desperately wanted to heal it, but the magic dampener would make that near impossible. It… couldn’t hurt to try though, right?

Pure Vanilla closed his eyes and focused on his magic. The inhibitor was definitely trying to stop him, as he could feel his magic straining to respond but being blockaded by some force. 

Gritting his teeth, he forced his magic against the internal wall and past it. At last, he could feel some of it react and bend to his control. The dove directed it into healing Golden Cheese and heard her gasp. 

He tuned out her voice in favor of forcing more magic past the barrier again, sweat beaded his brow from the effort but he wasn’t about to leave her wound to get infected! Who knows when the floors down here were last cleaned!

A hand gripped his wrist and tugged it away. “-Nilla! Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you keep this up!” 

The walls were spinning around him.

“I’m… fine. Please, just let me finish healing you.” His voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“Pure Vanilla, you look about two seconds away from passing out. Sit down.” Golden Cheese’s voice left little room for argument, so he did so. 

The bars of the cell still looked as though they were swaying like seaweed but less so than before. 

“Instead of healing what little remains of my own burn, why don’t you use your magic to heal your own.” She said, sitting down next to him.

He could still make the letters on her arm out, but the wound was significantly less irritated.

These would remain with them for life… wouldn’t they?

“What… What does mine say?” He asked, shifting his shoulder so she could lean forward and see it.

She squinted for a moment. “V-4-N-1” 

With a hum of acknowledgement, he turned his attention to healing the welt on his dough. His magic was less reactive now, seeming just as fatigued as he felt, but he pushed forth nonetheless.

After a little while, the pain dulled and he lowered his hand. 

He let his head drop onto her, now mostly healed, shoulder. She gave a chirp of surprise but just giggled and shifted their position so he was lying with his head under her chin and his body in her lap.

“Did my favorite little bird tire himself out?” A teasing lilt was evident in her voice.

He couldn’t muster up the energy for a proper response, and instead settled on an annoyed coo.

In lieu of verbal response, she ran her hands over his feathers. This turned into her starting to preen his wings, getting soft and sleepy trills from Pure Vanilla, who was growing more and more tempted to give into the whispering tendrils of rest by the second.

He drifted off to the sound of her own answering clicks and chirps, with her hands never straying from his wings.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Pure Vanilla jerked awake at the sound of their cell door being thrown open.

“Oh, look what you did! You woke him up!” Golden Cheese huffed.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes and trying to calm his racing heart, the dove turned to the door. 

The Warden was there, and he looked rather upset.

Oh Witches…

“Well, now that your little friend is awake, she can answer my question, seeing as you’ve been no help.”

Ignoring the dysphoric shudder that ran through him, Pure Vanilla considered those words.

Had… they been talking before the dove had awoken? If so, that was quite shocking, seeing as he normally woke to almost any noise in his vicinity.

Just how much of his mana had he drained by fighting the magic blocker to tire his body out that much?

He shook his head. “What was your question, sir?”

The man leaned down, eyes piercing Pure Vanilla’s very dough. “Who healed you two?” An unspoken threat lied in his tone.

Ah.

Both of the Avians shared a look, keeping their mouths shut.

It was silent for a few moments.

“Alright, fine. If neither of you want to talk, you’ll both be meeting with the Commander.”

He wasn’t sure who the Commander was, but they didn’t sound like a fun cookie to have a chat with in this context.

And he really didn’t want Golden Cheese to potentially get hurt over his own actions.

Biting his lip, Pure Vanilla sighed. “It was me. I’m a professionally trained healer, sir.”

The dove felt his girlfriend tense next to him, but he continued. “I was afraid of the burns potentially getting infected, so I used my magic to heal both of us. I meant no disrespect by it sir, I simply-”

He was cut off. “Save it. You’ll get to explain yourself to the Commander.” The man pulled out a chain and signals for him to stand.

His heart sank, but he nodded, rising from the floor and offering his banded wrist.

Pure Vanilla had seen the small, circular protrusion on the side of the bracelet, but wasn’t sure what it was for at the time.

He supposed he now had his answer…

The Warden grabbed his arm in a not so gentle manner and hooked the chain to his magic inhibitor, tugging on it with enough force to make the dove stumble.

Golden Cheese gave a few unhappy clicks from the floor at that, but kept herself quiet otherwise

“Alright, come on, Avian.” The man spat the word out like it was poison.

Giving a reassuring coo to the peahen, and getting a worried warble back, he was led out of the cell and down the hallway.

The stone floors were cold underneath his bare feet, and his wings puffed up automatically at the sensation, trying to preserve the little heat his body managed to produce.

Despite trying to memorize the layout as he was tugged along, the winding corridors were all pretty much identical. If given enough time and practice, he could probably find ways to distinguish them to know where he was going.

However, with his limited vision, finding visual differences was proving challenging.

But, he needed to work through the challenge if he wanted a chance of getting both of them out of here.

A dark wooden door stood before him, and the Warden pulled out a keyring. 

Almost all of them looked identical in color and size, but this one had the numbers ‘4-8-1’ on the top.

That could be useful information later on...

The door led to a stairwell, and Pure Vanilla internally groaned.

He hated stairs…

With a quiet sigh, he ascended them step by step with the Warden.

The steps themselves weren’t awful, all things considered. They were the right height to not strain his legs too heavily with each step.

But the spiral pattern of the stairwell was what caught his attention, as the hole in the center of the spiral was large enough that one could theoretically fly through.

Noted.

They didn’t go all the way up to the top; this area was more like a separate floor to the previous one rather than an exit. 

Two paths lay ahead, one to keep going up, and the other leading to a hallway in front of them.

Said hall looked… different from his own, he surmised as they started walking through it.

For one, there was a carpeted center which was lined with wooden floorboards on either side. And there were also actual doors along the long hallway.

It almost looked like a hotel.

That thought made him want to throw up.

Then, at the end of the hall, was another wooden door. It almost looked like mahogany with the coloring.

The Warden tapped his knuckles to it twice before opening it.

Inside, there was a rather well dressed man sitting at a dark wooden desk.

He had short brown and lime colored hair, magenta eyes, and a grey suit. 

Said man had been writing on some sort of document, and looked up at them rather annoyed before locking eyes with Pure Vanilla.

His gaze turned dark and hungry.

The Avian thinks he might have preferred it if he stayed annoyed…

“My my, what have you brought me here, Dried Lentil?”

Huh, he had forgotten to ask for the Warden’s name. Though, he might not have been given it even if he did ask.

Dried Lentil spoke up. “One of the new hybrids, Commander. It disobeyed and healed the tag we had given it, along with the other Avian brought in with it.”

The Commander rose from his seat, walking around the side of the desk and to Pure Vanilla’s left, gazing at his shoulder.

“Hmm, so it did.” The man turned to face him directly. “How did you manage to disable your dampener, little bird?”

Shrinking under the gaze, the dove directed his eyes to the floor. “I didn’t, sir. I willed my magic to push past the blockage the inhibitor caused.”

He resisted the urge to curl his wings over his shoulders and around himself protectively. “I didn’t mean any disrespect to you or anyone here. I was just afraid of the wound getting infected, on either myself or my partner.”

It was silent for a few moments. “You must have quite a large magic capacity to have done that, pretty bird.” The ‘praise’ made his Avian instincts cheer, and it was a nauseating feeling coming from someone other than his partners.

The man walked around to the side of his desk, opening a drawer and pulling something out. “But, your actions still require a punishment.”

He… had pulled out a knife.

Crumbs…

Pure Vanilla took a step back as the Commander approached again, but was promptly yanked forward by Dried Lentil.

“Lift up your dress, pretty thing.”

The Avian wasn’t sure if the shiver was from the compliment, him suppressing his instincts at said compliment, raw fear from the entire situation, or a monstrous cocktail of all three.

“Please, sir. I really didn’t mean to upset you. I sincerely apologize.” Both his hands and voice shook as he hesitantly lifted the fabric.

The man’s gaze darkened as the dress was lifted over his hips, and nausea rose in Pure Vanilla’s throat.

Once the material was lifted above his waist, the other’s hand rose, signalling that he went high enough.

“Now, here’s how your punishment is going to work. I’m gonna give you a few pretty little cuts, and you aren’t allowed to heal these ones, or any other injuries you get without permission.”

‘Other injuries?’ What other wounds would he possibly get down here…?

He swallowed. “But… what if it gets infected, wouldn’t that put my life in danger?”

A smirk adorned the Commander’s lips. “Heh. If it comes to that, we have doctors here. Can’t have my high value merchandise getting broken before I can sell it, now can I?”

Well, he supposes this confirms his theory on where they were.

An illegal Hybrid Trafficking ring.

Witches… he really hopes they can escape before it’s too late.

Sharp pain snapped him out of his thoughts, and the smell of strawberry vanilla jam hit his nose. 

Instinctively, he flinched back, wings raising in alarm. However, all that resulted in was hands gripping his shoulders roughly.

Two incisions were made on either side of his waist, almost like some twisted version of ribs adorning the outside of his dough.

As soon as the Commander had pulled back, Pure Vanilla dropped the fabric of his dress, wings quivering behind him.

A hand came up to card through the trembling feathers. “Such pretty wings. Pretty wings for a pretty bird.”

After a moment, the man pulled back with a smirk.

“Oh, before you leave, you and your little birdy friend will need some new clothes.”

The dove had approximately three seconds to outstretch his arms before clothes were unceremoniously dropped into his grasp.

His captor continued. “These are specially designed for Avians like yourselves, after all, we’re not heartless. You should be able to tuck your pretty little wings through just fine.”

Unable to do much else, Pure Vanilla simply nodded.

With a dismissive hand wave from the Commander, the dove was led out of the room, but not before the man spoke up again.

“I look forward to seeing you in The Ring tomorrow, pretty bird.”

… 

‘The Ring?’

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬  

Pure Vanilla jumped out of bed the next morning.

Literally.

The banging on the bars of the cell next to theirs startled him so badly he launched himself off of Golden Cheese and promptly fell to the floor.

He bit back a hiss of pain as the rough landing aggravated the wounds from the day prior. 

“My Treasure… are you alright?” The peahen asked from above him, sleep still coating her voice.

“Yes, I’m… I’m alright.” 

Taking a deep breath, Pure Vanilla stood up, placing a hand on the wall when his vision started tunnelling. Once his jam-pressure had gone back to normal, he shifted his bedraggled wings from behind him, bringing one to his side to try and straighten at least a few feathers before anyone else saw him.

He only got a few seconds in before a clang on their cell door echoed through the hall.

Witches, they could at least be a little quieter with this. He was going to get tinnitus at this rate…

“Get up and get out here, Avians.”

Pure Vanilla glanced back at Golden Cheese, who was glaring daggers at the Warden but complied regardless.

Once both of them had approached the bars, the lock was released and they were free to join the others at the back of the line. 

“Did you fall out of the bed, my dear? Is that what I heard this morning?” She chirped at him.

The dove blushed and embarrassedly looked at the wall. “Yes…”

“Are you alright, Treasure?”

He nodded. “Just a little sore, but I’m fine otherwise.”

Suddenly, her arm was grabbed by a guard.

Squawking in surprise, Golden Cheese flapped her wings and tried to pull away. It was of little avail, however, as that just resulted in another guard grabbing her other arm.

Then, Pure Vanilla was also grabbed.

His prey instincts overrode his common sense and he flailed with a scared warble. All his captor did was huff and roll his eyes, grabbing the dove’s other wrist.

He was being dragged away and-

No! No!

Pure Vanilla couldn’t just leave his flockmate by herself! They were safer in numbers, he needed to get back!

Get back. Get back. Get back. Get back-

A door slammed closed in front of him, the loud noise snapping his mind back to normal.

Or well, as normal as he could be given his current situation.

The room was almost entirely pitch black, and horrifyingly, smelled quite strongly of jam. The sickeningly sweet smell of multiple different jam flavors made a chill run down his spine.

That was a really, really, bad sign regarding his chance of survival in this room.

Footsteps from behind him caught the dove’s attention, and he spun around, squinting into the darkness. His wings extended behind him, feathers raised in what he hoped was at least a mildly threatening display.

Light was coming from underneath… something. It looked like a large door of some sort, although he couldn’t see any handles…

A loud voice was coming from beyond it though, sounding echoed and far louder than someone could ordinarily make their voice.

Odd.

“Hey, Avian. Come over here.” A gruff voice demanded, and he could barely make out the silhouette of a cookie in the shadows.

Wordlessly, he walked over and folded in his wings slightly, but his feathers remained fluffed up.

“Gimme your right hand. The one with the neutralizer on it.” The cookie pulled out a strange device.

Huh. He had seen the same one attached to the Warden’s hip, too. 

As soon as he held out his hand, the man pressed the device to it and suddenly his magic was back.

At his gasp, the man spoke again. “Don’t get any ideas, this is just for the fight. If ya’ try anything, we’re fully capable of electrocuting your ass.”

Against his better judgement, Pure Vanilla spoke. “How would you do that?”

A dangerous expression came over the stranger’s face. “Do you wanna find out, birdy?”

He shivered. “No, sir.”

“Good. Now lemme explain the rules of The Ring.”

And from what the cookie described, this place sounded like his worst nightmare.

Not only was he most likely going to be sold, but his only way of avoiding that fate was to fight other hybrids in a twisted championship and to somehow win. 

On the fifth day of the competition, the hybrids, minus the victor, who managed to escape with their lives were to be brought out and auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Like common livestock.

And it was just his luck that the tournament began today.

Golden Cheese and himself had arrived in the nick of time to fight for their lives while others bet on whether they lived or died.

Sort of.

All they had to do was make their opponent surrender.

Most did so by force, either injuring their rival enough for them to faint, or via crumbling.

But…

“What if I get them to yield?”

“Huh?”

Pure Vanilla took a breath. “I… don’t want to hurt anyone. What if I get them to verbally surrender to me and have them lose that way?”

“You’re gonna get yourself crumbled doing that, kid.” The man crossed his arms, an unreadable expression falling over his face.

“Perhaps. But would it be a viable way to win the round if I managed it?”

A pause.

“Well, there isn’t anything preventing you from doing that…”

Perfect.

They lapsed into silence before two knocks on the large door rang through the room.

“Alright little bird, you’re up.”

Sighing, the dove stood, moving before the metallic barrier on the far side of the room.

With the press of a button, a loud whirring noise was heard, and the door lifted before his eyes.

A jam and bruise covered salamander hybrid walked past him, and he paused to try and heal her before being roughly shoved out of the doorway by an armoured guard next to it.

Frowning, he looked around and…

Pure Vanilla’s heart dropped when he took in his surroundings, using a spell to enhance his eyesight to take it in properly. 

The arena was circular, tall stone walls encircled them. On top, chains lined the enclosed roof, dismissing his plan to simply fly out before he could even conjure it. There was also a thick glass platform above the chains, too.

Beyond the chains and glass, there was… an audience.

Hundreds of cookies sat on the seats, eagerly watching his every move.

The ceiling above the audience had large lights, glaring down directly on the dirt floor Pure Vanilla stood upon. 

And sitting in a stand far above the crowd… was the Commander.

Dozens of different emotions flooded through Pure Vanilla at the sight but he averted his gaze with a shaking breath.

He instead focused on the other hybrid in the ring with him.

They seemed to be a wolf hybrid, a rather lanky one at that.

This was going to be… interesting.

When the two got within a few yards of each other, the Commander spoke above them, using magic to project his voice around the arena.

“Begin!”

Pure Vanilla let instinct take over his body as the Canine charged, wings launching him backwards as claws swiped in his direction.

The chained roof prevented him from flying entirely out of reach, but the assailant would either have to be quite large, jump to reach his leg, or knock him out of the air if they wanted to catch him.

He served to avoid a magic projectile, and narrowly dodged a circular wall that had somehow snuck up on him.

As he circled back, he noticed something about his opponent.

They were using ice magic.

And most cookies who used ice magic were vulnerable to fire.

He could work with this.

See, many mages were restricted to one or two variants of magic depending on genetics or heritage.

Pure Vanilla, logically, should have been restricted to just using white magic or Light Moon magic.

This was not the case.

Yes, those were his specialties, but he could cast almost all types of spells with ease. And this fact made him a favorite among his teachers in the Blueberry Yogurt Academy.

The only type he had never tried was Dark Moon magic, as it was forbidden.

Though his curiosity about such practices was a force to be reckoned with…

Summoning a fire sigil in his hand, Pure Vanilla soared over the wolf and cast a flame ring around them.

A wall of fire surrounded the hybrid, and their confused sputters made him suppress a smile.

An ice beam came from within the flames, breaking the sigil in his hand, and thus, the flame circle.

Well, there went his plans of weakening them with fire magic.

As soon as it was gone the wolf lunged at him, and the dove jumped back, ducking under the punches and swipes thrown his way.

Being of a smaller stature had its disadvantages, yes. However, its strengths shone through in close quarter combat.

Pure Vanilla was quite quick on his feet, able to dodge and weave his way though punches and attacks with fair ease as long as he kept an eye on his enemy and was able to correctly predict their move.

Of course, he still ended up with some scratches from improperly timed dodges, and he grimaced at the feeling of icy jam running down his cheek.

They were using their magic to enhance their swings. If the Canine managed to land enough hits like that and attach the frozen runes around his body, they could freeze him in place.

That would be… problematic to say the least.

The dove needed to find a way to end this fight, and fast.

Then, he saw his opportunity.

He used a wave of magic to push the hybrid back and, without wasting a second, he charged.

Using his wings to add to his momentum, Pure Vanilla jumps and catches them on the side, wrapping his legs on either side of their neck and spinning upside down with the force of his movement. 

He braced his knees near their pinned ears before he used his hands and momentum to throw them to the ground.

Silently, Pure Vanilla thanked Dark Cacao for teaching him how to defend himself like this…

As soon as he landed on the floor in a crouch, he enclosed the, now stunned, hybrid in a barrier.

That was when the dove noticed how quiet the audience had gotten. Before he had done that, there had been cheering and vague comments he couldn’t make out in the heat of battle.

Now?

Silence.

Shaking off the unease from the realization, he stood and reinforced the barrier.

“Yield.”

They were silent for a moment, sitting up and staring at him. “What?”

“Yield, before I make you.”

“Then make me, little bird.”

He sighed, slowly closing the shield in around them. 

They seemed to realize what he was doing and started throwing magic at the barrier. When that didn’t work, the Canine tried to physically attack it.

That did more damage, as he had made it magically resistant, but not physically.

Regardless, he had more than enough magic to repair the damage as fast as they could make it.

When they realized this, and how claustrophobic the space was getting, they lowered their head.

“I yield.”

He stopped for a moment, then dispelled the shield.

They flinched when he walked over and stood before them, as if he were going to attack them anymore than he already had.

But Pure Vanilla simply offered his hand with a gentle smile.

The wolf hesitated, but placed their hand in the dove’s own, and was quickly hauled to their feet.

Once he had pulled his former opponent up, Pure Vanilla used their still joined hands to heal the other of any injuries they may have sustained.

He got a baffled look in return, but the Avian simply turned his gaze to the Commander.

“... And the winner is… The Vanilla Dove!”

Cheers rang out in the stadium, and his hand was dropped. 

The wolf wordlessly walked back to the door they had come from, and Pure Vanilla took that as his cue to do the same, healing his cut along the way.

When he stepped in, the gruff man from earlier spoke. “I’ll be damned. You actually did it.”

He smiled. “I’m simply glad I was able to heal them before we parted ways. I would hate for them to be sore tonight from the bruises that fall may have given them.”

A pause.

“You’re a weird one, kid. I’ll give ya’ that.”

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

The next two days passed in a similar vein.

He would fight around once per day, and had to find increasingly creative ways to subdue his opponents, as they were getting stronger and stronger each round.

Golden Cheese was holding her own quite well, and had been visibly relieved to see him unharmed on the first night he was returned to the cell.

She used a bit more force to win her battles, but had said she didn’t exactly want to kill anyone down here, as it wasn’t their choice to be here, either.

Something had shifted in the air when he was brought to the holding area on day four, however.

The man in there, who he had learned was named Polished Kumquat once they had traded names smiled slightly when he walked in.

“You’ve become quite a fan favorite out there, kid.”

He blinked. “Really? I assumed they would find me boring for refusing to seriously harm anyone.”

“That’s the exact reason why they do like you, little bird. You’re unique. You break the expectations of the Ring in a way we haven’t ever seen. And despite the fact you shoulda died on day one, somehow you’ve managed to come out of each match unscathed without ever raising a fist.”

“Well… Not quite unscathed. I just heal myself as I go if I don’t manage to avoid an attack.”

Polished Kumquat raised an eyebrow, and Pure Vanilla averted his gaze. 

The man continued. “I say this as a warning, Vanilla.”

His gaze hardened. “You’re gonna have to fight today.”

“What do you mean?”

A sigh.

“You guys are getting weapons. Swords, maces, bows, you name it. You can’t rely on kindness to get outta this one.”

“I have to try.” He protested.

The man grit his teeth. “You’re not listening! If you try to play pacifist now, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

Pure Vanilla looked down. “If I die out there, at least I’ll have done it without any more blood on my hands than I already have.”

He heard footsteps approach him, and a hand rested on his shoulder. “Just… be careful, kid. You’re one of the good ones in this shithole.”

Two knocks on the door signified that it was his turn on the field. 

The metal sheet lifted, and a goat hybrid stomped in with… one of his horns missing?

Other than some cuts, he looked fine overall, but he was covered in jam.

Does that mean…?

Swallowing thickly, Pure Vanilla looked across the field to find what he was really hoping not to see.

A cookie in a suit of armor was dragging the limp body of a calico hybrid out of the arena, a gaping hole where her heart should have been.

Ah.

Shivering and accepting he will never unsee that, the dove walked out and saw a weapon rack to his side.

There was a wide variety of weapons laid out on it, some of them with jam stains on them, but Pure Vanilla really didn’t want something heavy or sharp…

“And here is our newest climbing star! I have to say, folks, I’ve never seen one of our hybrids gain this much support in such a short amount of time!” The voice echoed overtop of him.

After a pause, the Commander continued. “But will our little Vanillian Angel be able to keep its halo today? Will it be forced to spill jam? Well, only one way to find out!”

…Vanillian Angel?

That was a new one.

Pure Vanilla shook his head and continued looking through the weapon rack, trying to figure out what he could comfortably use.

Ah! Perfect!

There was a basic staff among the weapons, nothing more than a long wooden rod, but it would work for his purposes.

He grabbed it, experimentally twirling the stick in his hands.

The weight was similar to his own, if not a bit lighter. It felt sturdy enough to block hits, which is exactly what he needed it for.

With a quick breath, he gripped the staff and approached the center of the arena, casting the spell to improve his vision once again. 

His opponent today was a zebra hybrid.

And like most cookies, she was a fair bit taller than him.

To be fair, his growth was stunted as a child, as was his sister’s to a lesser extent, but the majority of the cookies he’d ever met were taller than five feet and two inches.

This cookie seemed to be around five inches taller than him, which was pretty standard all things considered.

She had a longsword, which could easily reach him in the air if he wasn’t careful.

Duly noted.

“Begin!”

The Equine sprinted at him, and Pure Vanilla couldn’t even attempt to get off the ground before he was forced to block her attack with his staff.

How on Earthbread did she manage to get over to him so fast?!

She wrenched the sword from his staff before swinging it back at him from a different angle. Of course, all it took was a simple position change for him to counter her attack, but he still wasn’t exactly built for hand-to-hand combat.

Using a minor blast to push her back, the dove used a second one to launch himself into the air, getting as close to the chains as he could without risking his feathers getting caught. 

He was only in the air for a few moments before the winds shifted, and he was blown towards the wall.

Wait, wind?

They were underground!

How on Earthbread…?

Pure Vanilla closed his wings and landed in a crouch, blocking her repeated strikes with his staff again.

It was like she could teleport with how fast she was.

Almost like she was as fast as the wind.

…

She was using wind magic, wasn’t she?

That was mildly problematic for his fighting style, as he normally relied on being the fastest one on the battlefield.

And normally he was!

Wind magic was weak on its own. However, it could quickly become dangerous if combined with a well trained warrior, as it enhanced their movement speed by nearly double that of a normal cookie.

Pure Vanilla was just lucky he had an unnaturally fast mind to keep up with her and predict where she would strike next.

But he had one thing going in his favor, and that was the disadvantage of using wind magic. And it was really quite simple.

This type of magic was incredibly draining if used for prolonged periods of time.

So, in theory, all he had to do was just outlast her in a battle of stamina.

Once he wore her out, then he could go from there.

Mind made up, Pure Vanilla flapped his wings to push himself back and launched into the air again, landing behind her so as not to be pinned against the wall she had been steadily pushing him towards.

Flying to stay away from her wasn’t exactly a good option, as she could easily knock him out of the sky with a strong enough air current.

Unfortunately, staying on the ground was his best bet at beating her.

And, once again, he was locked in physical combat with her, arms shaking from the strain of blocking her attacks.

While Pure Vanilla had strong leg muscles from the force of taking off and landing so frequently, his arms were rather lacking in the strength department, as he was used to ranged magic on the occasions he did fight. 

She seemed to take notice of this, as a twist of her wrist had the staff wrenched from his trembling grasp and tossed to the side.

The zebra lifted her sword with a victorious grin, but it faded when he simply summoned a barrier in his hand to block her strikes instead.

Her glare was withering, but Pure Vanilla just gave a strained, apologetic smile.

This only seemed to anger her further, as her attacks got more and more forceful. The Avian winced as his shield broke, her blade subsequently slashing his arm in a deep gash.

Strawberry jam trailed down his elbow and onto the ground beneath him as he summoned another barrier. He’d fought with worse injuries; he couldn’t risk focusing his magic on healing instead of blocking her strikes.

Luck seemed to be on his side, however, as she was slowing down significantly.

This was his chance!

The Avian used her loosened grip to blast the sword out of her hand, and then used her following confusion to sweep her legs out from under her.

Before she could fall, Pure Vanilla caught her and placed a hand on her forehead.

Her arm came up around his wrist, but with a quick incantation of a sedative spell, her arm fell limply at her side as her eyes rolled back.

He let out a relieved sigh, looking up at the Commander as his victory was announced.

Using magic to enhance his strength, Pure Vanilla picked her up fully and walked over to her side of the arena.

“Don’t worry, she is just unconscious. This spell should only last for around thirty minutes or so.” He said, handing her off to one of the guards.

He got a strange look but they ultimately nodded and dismissed him back to his own side.

“You never fail to surprise me, kid.” Polished Kumquat said, giving him a small, exasperated smile.

“I do hope it’s a good surprise versus the alternative.” Pure Vanilla responded, hand hovering over the gash on his arm as the dough knit itself back together.

“Mix of both.”

He hummed. “Well, at least there is some happiness in there, yes?”

The Avian looked up in time to see the eyeroll his comment received.

Pure Vanilla was glad he at least had made one new friend down here.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

He had been frightened when Golden Cheese had shown up, as her pant leg was torn and covered in jam.

“By the Witches! Golden Cheese, what happened?!” Pure Vanilla rushed over to her, pulling her towards the bed and forcing her to sit.

She just sighed. “They had every weapon one could possibly need. Except for spears.”

The dove carefully lifted up the fabric to her knee, addressing the wound on her calf.

It wasn’t deep, despite what the stains and damage to her clothes suggested. Almost like…

“Did they take you to the healers?”

He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye.

“After I surrendered,” She growled under her breath before continuing her sentence. “They led me to a medic.”

Pure Vanilla frowned, looking over the damage again. “It’s not complete. This was only healed enough to stop the jam flow and allow you to walk semi-normally.”

He felt her tense but continued. “It won’t heal properly like this, and could lead to permanent damage if untreated…”

Golden Cheese was silent for a moment.

“Just heal it enough to prevent it from being permanent.”

The dove was glad she caught his unspoken ask.

His magic sparked at his fingertips, and Pure Vanilla mourned the loss of the proper flow of magic he had on the battlefield.

The mana in his reserves were still quite strong, seeing as he didn’t use too much of it during the fight today, so he wasn’t in danger of passing out before completing the process.

Still, this didn’t stop tremors wracking his body as he finished healing her.

“Pure Vanilla.” He winced at her scolding tone. “Did you repair the damage completely?”

He gave a strained chuckle. “Worth it…”

She groaned and scooped him up and onto the bed with her. “You have such little regard for your own health. Magic deficiency is dangerous.”

“I still have… some left. I’m fine…” His eyes closed as he leaned against her, smiling as he felt her wing curl around his side. 

“You and I have very different definitions of fine, my Treasure.”

Pure Vanilla hummed. “I just need time for it to build back up. I should be fine for tomorrow.”

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, as he let himself slip to a half awake state while letting his magic recover.

What he did know was that they were interrupted by a guard coming to retrieve his partner.

A saddened coo left his mouth as she was taken away, and he got an apologetic chirp back before she was led out of sight.

This gave him some time to plot their escape, however.

By this point, he had memorized the layout of most of the halls. They were taken to go to the showers in the evenings, and Pure Vanilla had recognized the door at the end of the hallway.

It was the same one he used to get to the Commander’s office.

The stairwell beyond the door kept going up, and if they managed to get in there, they could fly up the stairwell and get to the top.

And while he wasn’t entirely certain that the exit to this place was up there, it was their best bet at escaping this place, given the circumstances.

But how were they to get away from the guards and through the door…?

He would have to do a bit of thinking on this…

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

By the time Golden Cheese got back, he had already come up with a gameplan and debriefed her on such.

She, of course, had hugged him and said this was why he was their leader.

It took everything he had not to cry from that comment.

A voice broke him away from his thoughts.

“Didja see that bird out there?” A voice asked.

A second replied. “The white one?”

“No no, the yellow one. Y’know, with the pretty markings.”

Were they… talking about Golden Cheese?

“Oh yeahhh, that little thing. What, you thinkin’ about putting a bid in?”

A low chuckle. “Yup, I bet I could make that bird sing alllll night long.”

…

Ew.

He looked to his right to see Golden Cheese with an absolutely appalled and disgusted expression.

Yeah. They needed to get out of here before they were sold off.

Witches knows what may occur if they don't…

There was a knock on the cell door.

Dried Lentil stood there, opening up the door with his key ring.

Pure Vanilla looked at Golden Cheese. “Are you ready?” He chirped.

She nodded. “Let’s give them hell, my Treasure.”

He was so glad that no one else here knew Avis. Escape plans would be much harder to coordinate if that weren’t the case.

And like that, their plan was set into motion.

He lifted a finger, cloaking the bracelet disabler in an invisibility spell and a spell was then cast to highlight the key Golden Cheese needed to grab.

WIth a glance to his flockmate to affirm she had seen what she needed to grab, they moved on to the next step.

Golden Cheese stepped in front of him and started walking.

And as he went to pass Dried Lentil, Pure Vanilla ‘accidentally’ bumped into him.

“Oh- My apologies, sir! I-I didn’t mean to-” He placed a hand on the area where he had knocked into with a sorrowful frown. As he did so, Golden Cheese discreetly reached down and grabbed the keys attached to the Warden’s belt.

As he had hoped, the man’s attention was fully on him, and he didn’t notice as his girlfriend slid a key off of the ring. “Yeah yeah, zip it. Get to the back of the line.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned, palm open and zipped the other device into his hand with a quick wave of magic.

He was lucky he had a surplus of the stuff, as this would be impossible without it!

Once they reached the back of the line, Golden Cheese opened her hand to show him the key.

‘4-8-1’

Perfect.

Pure Vanilla nodded with a smile and brought up the remote in his hand, still masked by the spell, and pressed it to his own bracelet. 

WIth a click, it was disabled, and his magic practically sang as it was freed. 

And he quickly did the same to his flockmate, who gave a silent sigh of relief.

Now all they had to do was wait.

Once they passed the door, the next step of the plan was in motion.

Pure Vanilla pressed his hands together before throwing them open wide around him, summoning a barrier that pushed back the others not already inside of it.

Once they were pushed away, Golden Cheese slammed her heel into the ground and erected a wall of earth on either side of them, blocking both of the hallways.

Surprised shouts came from the other hybrids and the guards, their voices muffled by the wall of earth in their way.

He could feel attacks already being thrown at his barrier, but it was more so a way to get everyone out of the way rather than keep them out. That’s what the Golden Cheese’s blockade was for.

The two cookies that were protecting the door charged them, and both Avians looked at each other before nodding. 

Pure Vanilla ducked under the sword strike, moving behind the cookie and jumping between blows, trying to spot an opportunity where the hand gripping the weapon weakened a bit.

Ah, there!

With a bolt of magic, the sword was launched away, and it clattered against the concrete wall behind him. 

Now they were on equal playing fields. Well, if you didn’t include armor, of course.

The man charged him once again, fists raised and it was back to dodging and weaving. A stray hand grabbed his feathers before being pried off with a familiar angry screech.

Oh, Golden Cheese’s guard must have tried to switch targets. 

Hmm. This cookie’s helmet was loose, seeming a size too large.

If Pure Vanilla could find a way to knock it off, then he would have a lot more options on how to knock this guy out…

Well, he could always just…

He raised his hand lifting the metal headpiece with levitation and flung it across the room, and it joined the sword with an equally loud clang.

A bang was heard next to them and he saw that cracks were forming in the earthen walls around them.

Uh oh.

Ducking under another punch, the dove ran past the man before skidding to a halt. 

And with a flap of his wings, he jumped at the wall nearest to him, springing off of it and kneeing the cookie hard in the side of the head.

Pure Vanilla caught the guard as he fell, laying him on the ground where he now lay limply.

While he didn’t exactly like using violence on other cookies, he didn’t exactly have much of an option at this point, as time was running out.

Golden Cheese grabbed his arm and they both ran for the door.

Crack.

One of the walls crumbled behind him. 

No no no!

In an impulsive surge of desperation, he flung his flockmate forward with a surge of wind magic, being tackled by the Warden a mere second later.

“Pure Vanilla!” 

He grit his teeth as he cast a barrier in front of the guards trying to get to her.

There was no way he could get to her, he was completely pinned. “Go!” 

The door clicked open and she looked back at him with an anguished expression.

His barrier cracked as his magic was once again blocked.

“NOW!” He yelled.

Pure Vanilla could almost feel her heart shatter as she fled up the stairs, and he had a moment to feel relieved that she got away before his head was lifted up.

Crumbs.

Pain exploded behind his eyes as it was forced down again, and then everything went dark.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

“Wakey Wakey, little bird!”

Witches, his head hurt.

Pure Vanilla opened his eyes with a quiet, confused noise.

What… happened?

Golden Cheese and himself running to the door when…

Oh.

Right…

His eyes widened when he took in his surroundings.

There were gold bars all around him, connecting in dome shape above his head, and the enclosure seemed to be elevated off the ground. The floor was hard, smooth, and cold beneath him, and his wings were pressed against the bars at his back.

Was he in… a birdcage?

“Ah, there you are. I was a little worried that Dried Lentil hit you a bit too hard, angel.” The Commander stood before him, a wicked grin on his face.

“It was quite the stunt you pulled, trying to escape like that. I’ll admit, I was impressed when I heard.”

Unease washed over Pure Vanilla in a slow, nauseating wave.

“But, then again…”

Dark hands gripped the bars in front of him as the man leaned closer. “You tried to escape.”

He shivered, fear gripping his heart like a vice.

It lessened a fraction when the Commander pulled away again, pacing in front of him with a neutral expression.

“You know, I dislike when my pets misbehave. I mean, doesn’t everyone?” 

Where was he going with this?

“And bad pets… well…”

The man stopped.

“They need to be punished, don’t they?”

The jam drained from his face as he drew his wings impossibly tighter against his back.

“Then again… You have made me quite a bit of money, little bird. You’ve become my top seller in the Ring. And I would hate to disappoint the crowds by cutting your story short before the finale tomorrow.”

The Commander turned to look him in the eyes, magenta eyes meeting his own fearful, heterochromatic ones. “So why don’t I cut you a deal?”

He shivered. “As long as you behave yourself and be a good little pet, you can live and go to a nice new home at the auction. Or, who knows! Maybe you’ll even come out on top.”

The man’s eyes glinted with malice as he leaned down to be level with Pure Vanilla once more. “Sound like a deal, little angel?”

Shakily, the dove nodded. “Y-Yes, sir.”

Thankfully, he pulled back and away from the bars. “Good. And please, call me Marbled Gooseberry, pretty bird.”

He sat and watched as Marbled Gooseberry went about getting ready for bed, which begged the question of how long exactly Pure Vanilla had been unconscious for after getting his head slammed into the ground.

It wasn’t like he would get any answers from his captor, however.

Nor did he really want them…

“Alright let’s get you out of there for a moment, little angel.”

Was… he going to sleep beside Marbled Gooseberry?

He wasn’t sure if that was an upgrade or a downgrade from the cage, in all honesty…

Regardless, he squeezed himself through the rather small door of the enclosure and looked expectantly at the other.

Said man just smiled before reaching down, pulling out a small, golden rod and attaching it to the center of the cage.

Ah.

A perch.

There was no way to fit himself comfortably around it either, so he would have to use it.

This was… quite demeaning. 

“Alright, why don’t you get yourself nice and cozy for the night, pretty thing.”

Witches…

Swallowing what little remains of his pride he had left, Pure Vanilla climbed back in with a few flaps of his wings, seating himself on the perch with as neutral of an expression as he could muster.

Marbled Gooseberry looked him up and down with a smirk before sauntering back over to his bed, slipping under the covers.

Tears of humiliation stung at the Avian’s eyes, but Witches be damned if he was going to let them fall in the same room as his captor.

Instead, he just curled his arms around himself and sighed lightly, staring at the golden floor in front of him.

He listened as the Commander’s breathing evened out, quiet snores filling the silence of the room.

Pure Vanilla, on the other hand, didn’t sleep much that night.

The bars were too cold and the position he was practically forced to uphold got uncomfortable within the first thirty minutes. The ceiling of the cage was too low, so he was required to hunch himself over, which wasn’t entirely comfortable.

He wasn’t in danger of falling, per se, as his talons were genetically engineered to hold him in place even when unconscious, but it wasn’t exactly as comfortable as a bed.

Still, he had it better off than a normal cookie considering his skeletal structure.

Avians had rather strange legs. They looked normal on the surface, until they weren’t.

See, his knees could bend upwards to be almost parallel with his thighs, and his hips were structured in a way that allowed him to bend them backward.

And while he preferred to keep his legs in their ‘normal’ looking state, having abnormal joints did come with its perks.

Like perching and balancing on things he really shouldn’t be able to.

At some point, while he was contemplating this, he must have fallen asleep, as his eyes opened to the soft rustling of fabric from Marbled Gooseberry rising from his bed.

Though, they quickly closed again when the lights were turned on, the brightness burning his tired eyes. He closed his wings around his head to further block the light.

“Awww, what’s the matter, pretty angel? I thought you Avians were supposed to be early birds!”

Pure Vanilla didn’t dignify him with a response.

“I don’t like being ignored, birdy.”

He sighed. “Not all of us fall into that particular stereotype, sir.”

“See, was that so hard?” The man crooned mockingly, and he heard footsteps approaching the cage.

Wings dropping, he tracked the man with his head. The sounds ended right in front of the ornate metal door before Pure Vanilla.

And with a jingle of keys and some clicking, the lock was undone.

“Alright, pretty bird, let's get you to the first match.”

He… was first?

Setting aside that though, he climbed and squeezed his way out of the cage door, extending his sore wings with a wince.

Witches… his back hurt.

Being hunched over like that for… an undetermined amount of hours was not good for the chronic pain he already had there.

Pure Vanilla bit back a pained churr and turned to the Commander.

“What, not feeling chatty today, little thing?”

Not particularly, no.

Getting separated from the one thing keeping him sane down here and shoved in a claustrophobic cage tended to kill his mood rather effectively.

He looked down.

It wasn’t like him to be so negative. He generally disliked feeling angry or bitter at anyone or anything, but it was getting harder and harder to try and make light of any part of this situation now that his flockmate was gone.

Pure Vanilla missed her.

He missed her so much…

Hopefully she would be back soon with help.

His arm was grabbed, and his eyes opened in surprise. “Well, come along now, little angel. We don’t want to keep the audience waiting, do we?”

The walk there was quiet, though he could distantly hear chattering amongst the guards as he was led through the halls.

He still had a headache from yesterday, but with the magic dampener activated, he was out of luck when it came to getting rid of the pesky thing.

Well, he supposed he was lucky that he was the first fight so he wouldn’t have to deal with this for much longer, as he could just heal it the moment he got his magic back.

An arm extending out in front of his torso broke Pure Vanilla out of his daze. “Escort him to the prep room, I need to go and warm up the crowd.”

Another hand grabbed his arm, and the Avian shivered at the cold steel of the gauntlet.

He was taken down a familiar path, and an even more familiar man sat inside.

“That was a stupid move, kid.”

An amused huff escaped him. “Did word of my attempt spread that fast?”

“Everyone’d heard of it by midnight, Pure Vanilla.”

He stuck his hand out to the other in a practiced motion. “Can you blame me for trying, Polished Kumquat?”

With a quiet click, magic pulsed like electricity through his veins, and he smiled at the feeling. The Avian quickly used a pulse of healing magic

“I can’t, and that’s why I’m sad to see you here today.” The man said quietly, glancing at both of the doors.

He…

“You wanted me to escape…?” Pure Vanilla whispered back, eyebrows pinching together.

Polished Kumquat nodded.

It was a strange feeling, being happy that someone wanted you to leave them.

“I’m… sorry to have disappointed you, then.” He said, taking the man’s hand into both of his own.

The other shook his head. “Just don’t die out there today and we’ll call it even.”

“I’ll try my best, my friend.”

Before another word could be spoken between them, the doors opened.

With a quiet sigh, Pure Vanilla stepped through the opening and under the bright lights that illuminated the arena.

Marbled Gooseberry’s voice echoed overhead.

“Welcome, folks, to the last day of the Championship! Our docket for today? Well, it’s really quite simple! We have our final fight lined up for you here, this morning!” 

Final? Did that mean he…?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the hybrid across from him.

He was a rather large tiger hybrid, and seemed to be built rather well from what Pure Vanilla could see. And the blurriness reminded him to recast the sight enhancing spell.

“This is the fight you’ve all been waiting for, folks! The deciding match between our two best contestants! And wow, what a show they’ve given us!”

A laugh came from the Commander.

“B-U-7-R, the Jam-stained Claw as some of you have started calling him, has really torn up the competition! Literally! Boy, I would hate to get caught in his path, let me tell you!”

Well, Pure Vanilla’s chances of surviving this looked lovely…

“And V-4-N-1, our Vanillian Angel, was quite the unexpected victor! I mean, who could have seen a pacifist making it all the way to the final round, eh?”

He clenched the staff he had grabbed in his hands, wings extending behind him.

“I hope you’ve placed your bets! Let the final match… BEGIN!”

And like that, he was up in the air.

Almost immediately, he was swerving around a pillar of flames, having to bank to the right to avoid singeing his face. 

He shot a water bolt at the flame sigil, shattering it and narrowly avoiding an explosion that came from it.

Ah. The Feline had trapped it.

Honestly, that was clever.

Pure Vanilla didn’t have time to admire the thought process, as he was already weaving in between walls of fire, gritting his teeth at the rising temperature.

“Well folks, it seems like things are really heating up down there.”

Ugh.

He decided to tune out Marbled Gooseberry for the rest of the fight.

Another flame wall appeared in his face, and as he turned around midair to fly away from it, he realized that there was one behind him too.

Well he could always-

Nope, he was boxed in.

They slowly enclosed him and sweat dripped down his neck from the heat, breath coming in short, shallow pants.

Crumbs…

As they got closer, he had an idea.

Summoning an aqua sigil in his palm, Pure Vanilla spun in a rapid circle dousing the flames all around him and dispelling it with an explosion of water.

He only had a moment to feel victorious before he was forced to dive to the ground by several fireballs being summoned above him.

And like that, the tiger was on him.

Blocking his attacks would prove… problematic, seeing as this man had a Witches damned battle axe at his disposal.

It only took a few heavy swings for the staff Pure Vanilla was using to snap under the weight of it.

Ah.

Well, that wasn’t ideal.

Shields it was, he supposed.

He got a weird sense of deja vu as he threw up barrier after barrier in front of him, as he had done this in his last fight as well.

Still, this was slightly more draining as he couldn’t simply reabsorb the remaining magic the forcefield had when he needed to summon another one elsewhere, as the power these swings held kept shattering them in one or two hits.

This wasn’t sustainable.

He’d overestimated the magic reserves he had left.

Normally sleeping would replenish it, but seeing as he had gotten… possibly less than two hours of sleep last night, his magic was already halfway drained from just keeping him going.

Damnit…

Food normally replenished it too, but he hadn’t eaten anything last night, either. Normally they were given a meal after they returned from the showers, but seeing as he had been knocked out before making it there… 

“Just give up, little bird. I promise to make your death quick.”

He grit his teeth. “Not a chance… I want to see my family again.”

A low chuckle. “Suit yourself.”

The barrier shattered like glass, and he had to summon another one just to save his chest from being hacked open.

He needed to get away from this guy before his magic ran out…

Pure Vanilla jumped and flapped his wings, bracing his legs against the Feline’s chest and springing himself away.

After bouncing off of his hands and then kicking off of the wall his feet landed on, the Avian was back in the air.

A small smirk pulled at his lips when he heard the aggravated yelling coming from the tiger.

How on Earthbread was he meant to take this guy down? He couldn’t trap him in a barrier, tiring him out to use a sleeping spell would result in him most likely exhausting before the other hybrid, and his physical combat skills wouldn’t exactly save him here…

What to do…?

A large flame pillar burst in front of him, and Pure Vanilla banked to the side.

That trick was getting old rather quickly-

Without warning, a blinding agony tore through his right wing and he hit the ground with a cry, pain intensifying as he landed on the burned limb.

He saw the tiger approaching and his bone chilling panic shot through him.

Nonono- Get away. Run. Fly. Danger. Away.

Shooting into a standing position faster than he even thought was possible, Pure Vanilla took off running.

Or at least, he tried to.

The dove only got a few steps in before searing pain raced up the left side of his torso and he stumbled to the ground again.

He flipped on his back, choking on a distressed warble as he stared his demise in the face.

The tiger simply smirked and raised his axe.

Pure Vanilla braced himself with a terrified cry.

He didn’t want to die!

No!

The next thing he heard was a sickening crack and a harsh thud.

He was… still alive though…

Hesitantly, the dove opened his eyes.

His assailant was… lying limply near the wall in front of him?

There was jam on the wall, and he looked like he’d been thrown into it.

That was when Pure Vanilla noticed the magic remnants still swirling around him.

Oh.

Oh no.

He’d cast a shockwave in his panic, and a rather powerful one at that if the heavy magic still lingering in the air had anything to say about it…

Turning his attention back to the tiger, he noticed jam pooling beneath the Feline’s head, and he rushed over.

Folding his wings behind himself, and wincing at the horrid ache that raced up his spine at movement, he dropped to his knees and began healing the other.

Pure Vanilla shifted the tiger’s head, pressing his hand to the wound and grimacing at the soaked jam stained orange hair. 

But still, he stitched the dough back together and turned his attention to mending the various cuts and bruises, even when his vision tunneled at the edges.

Wait, what?

Pausing his flow of magic, Pure Vanilla looked down and noticed a sizable puddle of his own strawberry jam had leaked from the rather deep laceration on his side.

Ah. He’d forgotten about that.

Shaking his head, and ignoring the resulting dizziness, he turned back to the Feline, but stopped at the sight of metal boots in front of him.

Blinking his eyes slowly, he lifted his gaze to one of the guards, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression. 

Gauntlet covered hands came up on either side of the tiger and lifted him over the guard’s shoulder.

“W-Wait… He still needs healing…” Witches, why was his voice so thin?

Pure Vanilla reached a hand out, but it was caught by another gauntlet covered hand from behind him. “As do you, Angel.”

“But…” It was getting harder to think, and harder to breathe at that rate.

Oh. Jam loss. Right.

As the Commander announced his victory overhead, the dove focused his magic towards the gash on the side of his torso.

There was… a lot of jam next to him.

Surely that wasn’t all his, right?

As soon as he sealed the wound, arms came underneath his own and hauled him to his feet.

The world twirled in his vision, and he had a few seconds to wonder why he felt like he was falling before everything went black. 

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

“My, that was quite the spectacle on the field, little angel.”

Witches…

He felt horrible.

Groaning, he opened his eyes and blearily gazed at the man in front of him, wings shifting uncomfortably.

That was when Pure Vanilla noticed he wasn’t in an area he recognized.

It looked similar to Marbled Gooseberry’s bedroom but… blander.

“Where… am I?” The Avian sat up, looking down at the blankets and marveling slightly at the softness.

They were probably the softest thing he had felt in a week…

“Ah, yes. This is one of our guest rooms. I wanted to ensure the winner of our championship had a comfortable place to recover.”

Winner?

He had won the whole thing?

Blinking a few times at the news, Pure Vanilla met his eyes again. “What about my opponent? Is he alright? I didn’t injure him too severely, right?”

Marbled Gooseberry tsked a few times. “Always so concerned about others, aren't you, little angel?”

When the dove was silent, the Commander sighed and continued. “He’s fine. Didn’t even need to be healed after what you already did.”

Well that wasn’t entirely shocking, seeing as they only healed Golden Cheese to the bare minimum before sending her on her way.

They probably just made sure he wasn’t actively dying and sent him back to his cell…

His mind circled back to what he had said before.

“I… won?”

The man smirked. “That you did, pretty bird.”

He could…

He could go home!

He could see his friends again!

He could see his family again!

“When will I be allowed to leave?” Pure Vanilla asked, real, genuine hope sparking in his chest for the first time since he had awoken in this place.

Though, that hope turned to apprehension as the grin that the other bore turned sharper. “Hmm, see… about that…”

Marbled Gooseberry stalked closer, hands bracing against the mattress as he leaned closer to the Avian.

“There’s been a… slight change in policy.”

Fear gripped Pure Vanilla’s heart once more.

The Commander slowly stalked over to the side of the bed, looking down at him. “See, I never had any intentions of letting you leave, pretty thing. After all…” 

A hand gripped his chin, turning his face up to meet Marbled Gooseberry’s hungry gaze. “Cookies will pay good money for a pretty little pet like yourself.”

No…

“Aww, no need to look so glum, little angel. I’m sure you’ll go to a nice good home.”

His breath hitched as a hand touched his neck.

“Now, why don’t you rise, pretty bird. You wouldn’t want to keep our buyers waiting, would you?”

He stayed put.

“You’re being awfully still for someone that was just given an order, pet. You know, there’s always the option of… well…”

The man’s eyes glinted dangerously. “Stripping the angel of its wings.”

A horrid shiver ran down his spine, and he gripped the blankets.

With a sigh, he shifted his legs, slowly moving them to the side of the bed.

“That’s a good bird.”

His eyes stung with humiliated, terrified tears. Still, he slowly rose from the bed, head hanging low in defeat.

Hands touched his neck again and he flinched. 

“Hold still, pretty angel.”

He forced his body to remain still, even as his instincts screamed to run, hide, escape. Just do anything to get away from the danger standing right in front of him.

Cold metal touched his throat, and a thick band encircled his windpipe. Then, he heard a latch click into place.

“There, now why don’t you give that a look, hmm?” His wrist was grabbed, and he was led over to a full body mirror.

Ignoring how awful his body looked, hair and wings mussed, skin far paler than it should be, and dark circles under his eyes, he noticed that something new had been added.

A gold collar now adorned his neck.

He averted his gaze and wrapped his arms around himself, stifling a mournful, anguished coo that so desperately wanted to claw its way from his mouth.

Fingers came up to brush against the collar, and he felt something else latch into place.

A leash.

…

Even the freedom of movement was now stripped away from him.

Then, he felt the bracelet being removed.

But… his magic didn’t come back.

“No need to look so confused, little bird. I think the collar suits you much better than this old thing. Only the best for my champion, afterall.”

Ah. The collar was his new prohibitor.

…He preferred the wristband. That one felt less de-cookienising.

A tug on the leash pulled him forward, and he was led through the hallways. And it was all he could do to keep the tears in his eyes from falling.

Pure Vanilla was led up an unfamiliar stairwell, and when the door at the top opened, he was… rather confused.

This was the section where the audience had resided. Chairs and a stage had been set up on top of the glass, the chains below having been drawn back against the sides for whatever reason. 

Dozens of cookies were seated before the stage, all of the chairs being taken. Some had even crowded near the back, seemingly unable to find a place to sit.

His fellow hybrids were all lined up beside the stage, restraints attached to each of them, as well as chains binding them all together in a line. Guards lined the walls of the stage and on the sides of the line of hybrids.

It seemed they really didn’t want anything going wrong.

Instead of being bound to the others, however, Pure Vanilla was led atop the stage with the Commander. 

And there, on the stage, was a gilded birdcage.

Witches…

He was led over to it and the door was opened before him. “Well, you know what to do, little bird.”

The Avian glanced around him. With all of the armed cookies near him, he wouldn’t get very far even if he did try to run. 

And his only option was this or death.

His leash was unclipped and…

Pure Vanilla seated himself on the perch, hanging his head and trying to stop his shoulders from shaking.

“Well, we have quite the crowd today, huh?”

Quiet laughter.

“Well, I’m happy to say that there was a… change of plans regarding our Angel’s victory. Seeing as both contestants fainted before making it off of the battlefield… both will be for sale, today!”

He felt sick as the crowd cheered, wings curling around himself as he breathed shakily.

Marbled Gooseberry had blatantly lied about the circumstances, and no one would ever know about it, would they?

The voices around him faded into static as he curled his wings further around himself, breath hitching on suppressed sobs, trying desperately to keep his tears at bay.

Witches, he was going to be sold as a pet to one of these people.

Someone who didn’t see him as anything more than an accessory.

Just something to sit there and look pretty around the house.

Witches, please no…

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Was there truly no way out of this?

Pure Vanilla didn’t have enough magic left to do much, especially not with the mana blocker at his throat.

He certainly couldn’t overpower fifteen armed guards without his magic!

Even if he did have it, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to anyways. Not without his staff to properly channel his remaining mana and conserve what he had left…

It would take a miracle to save him now.

“-nd for our grand finale! The Vanillian Angel!”

His time was up.

He heard the cage door open and slowly unenclosed his wings from around himself, meeting the gaze of Marbled Gooseberry grinning at him with a showman’s smile.

With a defeated grimace, Pure Vanilla climbed out of the cage, closing his eyes as the leash was attached back to his neck.

“Now! Our starting bid is two hundred coins.”

Two hundred?!

A scarily large amount of voices all clamored together.

“Two fifty!”

“Two seventy five!”

“Three hundred!”

Why on Earthbread did they want to pay so much money for him…?

“Four hundred!”

“Four fifty!”

“Five hundred!”

“Five sixty!”

His ears started ringing as the numbers climbed higher, chest tightening with what felt like hundreds of different emotions.

Why did they want him so badly?

Why did so many cookies want him so badly?

What on Earthbread would they do once they got him…?

“-venty five! Do I hear a nine hundred?”

“Nine hundred!”

“Nine hundred! Do I hear nine fifty?”

“One thousand!”

“Ooh! One thousand! Do I hear a thousand fifty?” 

“One thousand two-”

A loud boom echoed through the arena. 

He lifted his head and…

His friends?

He wasn’t hallucinating, right?

They were actually here, right?

“Pure Vanilla!” Golden Cheese called out.

“Cheesy…” He choked out, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips.

The bidders, who had lessened out significantly now that he was paying attention, all scattered like choco ants. The guards, however, all rushed his friends.

Which, to be frank, was a mistake considering that left him and Marbled Gooseberry alone.

He looked the man up and down before snatching the leash out of his hands.

“Hey, you-” The Commander grabbed for it, but Pure Vanilla simply jumped back, unhooking it from the collar that hung heavy around his neck.

With a growl, Marbled Gooseberry turned on his heel and started running.

Was he seriously…?

The Avian took off after him, shooting into the air and catching him in a dive.

Both of them tumbled to the ground, but Pure Vanilla recovered faster, pinning the man on his stomach and wrapping the leash around his wrists.

A strained scoff was heard underneath him. “Didn’t take you for the revenge type, little angel…”

He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t revenge, Marbled Gooseberry. As long as you walk free, you are a threat to other hybrids.”

“What, gonna turn me in to the authorities?”

Pure Vanilla hadn’t actually thought that far ahead… He’d only had around thirty seconds to do so, after all.

The Commander struggled underneath him, knees clinking futilely against the glass. 

Crack.

Oh.

Crack.

Oh Witches…

And like that, the floor gave way underneath them.

Air rushed past his ears, and sharp pain erupted on his right wing, a hand gripping it tightly and pulling at the feathers.

On instinct he pushed away the force grabbing him, and then registered that it was Marbled Gooseberry doing it.

Realizing his mistake, he tried to reach for the other’s hand, angling his wings to dive after the cookie.

But the ground was coming to fast-

Just a little further and-

CRACK.

With his jam turning to ice, Pure Vanilla pulled his wings up, landing beside the other.

A sickeningly sweet smell filled the air as jam pooled beneath the man, his body limp and still.

Crouching beside him, the Avian pressed two fingers to Marbled Gooseberry’s carotid artery.

No pulse

He was gone.

His wings lowered as Pure Vanilla hung his head, guilt eating away at his heart.

Yes, this man had made the past six days of his life a living nightmare, but he didn’t deserve death for it…

If he had been a little faster, then maybe he could have saved him.

“Pure Vanilla!” The Avian looked up, seeing his friends crowded around the hole in the glass.

Fear engulfed him once more as he stood. 

They weren’t safe! The glass could break further!

With a powerful downstroke of his wings, and wincing at the pain from the pulled coverts that had now scattered in the Arena, Pure Vanilla shot up towards the opening in the glass.

He pulled his wings in tight as he soared through it, not wanting the feathers to catch on the jagged bits of glass.

The dove landed a ways away from the crater, looking over at the others worriedly.

“My friends! Please get away from the pit!”

For some inexplicable reason, they started laughing at this. But still, they ran over to him regardless.

Golden Cheese reached him first, having half flown over to him, trapping him in a tight hug.

“You self sacrificial idiot!” 

He blinked, a fond smile pulling his lips upward. “I’m happy to see you too?”

She laughed wetly, arms tightening around him. “Never make me leave you behind again, you hear me?”

Before he could respond, Hollyberry joined in the hug, and he was slightly worried she would break a few of his ribs with how hard she was squeezing.

“Holly…berry- Oxygen would be most appreciated-” 

Both women let him go and he took a deep breath before looking up at Hollyberry. “I’m glad to see your strength hasn’t waned in the slightest during my absence.”

A grin broke across her face. “And you are just as witty as you were before this!”

Dark Cacao and White Lily stood beside them.

The former spoke first, pulling him into a warm embrace. “I’m very glad to see you are unharmed, my friend.”

Well, unharmed may not be the most accurate term, but he wasn’t about to break the mood by correcting him.

As soon as the warrior pulled back, White Lily hugged him gently, face tucking against his hair. “I was so worried about you Vani…”

He sighed, his smile softening a little. “I’m alright, Lily. Really, I am.”

Someone smacked his arm and he pulled back to look over.

Golden Cheese glared at him with a raised eyebrow, face still red from crying. “You don’t get to do that.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Do what?”

“You don’t get to avoid admitting something’s wrong by comforting us instead.”

“I…”

He looked down, shoulders curling forward as his wings tensed behind him.

Pure Vanilla shoved down the welling emotions again. “I don’t want to discuss it here. I just want to leave this place…”

It was silent for a moment before a warm hand took his. Hollyberry looked at him with an uncharacteristically gentle smile. “I have just the thing for you, then.”

And like that, he was led up a carpeted pathway, a set of double doors awaiting them at the top.

When they opened, he gasped.

He was outside.

With shaking legs, he stepped out.

He could hear the wind rustling the leaves.

He could smell the pollen from the flowers around him.

He could taste the crisp spring air.

He could see the clouds moving overhead.

He could feel the sun warming his skin.

He was free.

He was finally free.

“Here.” A white bundle was set in his arms, knocking him out of his revelry.

White Lily smiled at him. “I figured you might want a change of clothes.

Oh.

Yes, that was probably in order.

He went to just swap them out with magic but stopped. “I… My magic isn’t…”

She tilted her head and he tried to gather his words. “The collar prevents me from using my magic.”

White Lily hummed, walking behind him and moving his hair out of the way. “This seems to be locked with some kind of magichanichal device…” 

He heard Hollyberry walk over. “Oh? Let me see this.”

She was silent for a moment before the cracking of metal was heard and his magic instantly returned to his command.

“How did you…?”

He turned around to see her holding the gold collar, the back of his having been ripped off.

Huh.

Well, he supposed that worked.

With a simple touch to his shirt, his clothes had been swapped, and Pure Vanilla smiled at the comforting feel of his dress being back on himself.

And with a simple wave of his hand, the shirt and pants he had been ‘gifted’ by Marbled Gooseberry crumbled to ashes, drifting away in the wind.

“Hey! The cart’s here!” Golden Cheese called out, and he looked away from the remains of the clothes in confusion.

There was a horse drawn cart waiting on the road, and the peahen was sitting on the cart with a grin. Dark Cacao was conversing quietly with the driver.

“Did you…?”

White Lily took his hand with a smile, leading him over. “Once we found Golden Cheese and got the details, we realized the hotel wasn’t safe. So, we rented a cabin instead.”

Suddenly, arms scooped him up and he was lifted into the bed of the cart.

At his startled, confused noises, Hollyberry just laughed.

“I-I could have gotten in myself, Holly!”

“Ah, where’s the fun in that, huh?”

Pure Vanilla shook his head with an exasperated sigh, leaning against White Lily once she sat next to him.

Hollyberry climbed in next, and the cart started moving.

“Wait… where’s Cao?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Directing the driver.” Golden Cheese said simply.

Oh. That made sense.

Pure Vanilla heard the others talking around him, but the exhaustion from everything that had happened and the gentle rocking of the cart was making it quite difficult to stay awake.

He… He thinks he’s earned a bit of rest.

Occasionally, he was awoken by the cart hitting a bump, but the soothing scent of lilies made it all too easy to drift off again.

A hand softly shook his shoulder “-illa? Vani, we’re here.”

He blinked open his eyes with a hummed trill, looking sleepily at his surroundings.

They seemed to be in a forest of some sort, and a wooden cabin sat behind him.

With a bit of help from White Lily, he got out of the cart and was led inside. He was still fighting off the lingering drowsiness that had taken hold over him, his body trying to drag him back to sleep after finally getting to rest properly after around a week of either constantly being on high alert or fainting from various incidents.

It felt like he blinked and suddenly he was standing in the doorway of a bedroom, pillows, blankets, and various other soft materials were organized on the bed.

Golden Cheese sat inside of it and grinned.

She… had made a nest.

Almost on instinct, he walked forward and joined her, wings fanning out as he inspected the nest.

Slim fingers brushed against his feathers and he leaned into the contact with a coo, muscles instantly relaxing on their own.

“Why don’t we take care of these, mm?”

He felt several bodies join them in the nest, and multiple pairs of hands all started either sorting through his feathers or brushing through his hair.

Witches… This was everything he needed.

He was finally safe…

He was finally home.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Pure Vanilla blinked as the memories faded from his vision.

He heard Shadow Milk shift next to him, and tilted his head down with a hollow feeling settling in his chest.

The coat of numbness was something that he was used to feeling when his emotions spiked too high. It was a defense mechanism of sorts.

Normally it went away the next time he slept, though sometimes he could break out of the dissociative spell sooner.

His longest stint with it was in the Spire. Time was… odd there, and it was hard to say how long he was like that for, but it was at least a week.

Granted, he could still feel to an extent. But it was… muted. Like he was staring through a foggy window. 

A hand brushed his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts with a flinch. 

Though, he quickly relaxed when he realized who it was, and glanced over at his husband.

Shadow Milk gazed at him with concealed horror, and he could feel the cocktail of rage, horror, bafflement, and concern radiating through the soulbond.

“...How have I never heard about this, Nilla?”

Pure Vanilla sighed. “I never talk about it. The other Ancients, minus Golden Cheese, only know what I had been willing to share at the time. And she and I have silently agreed to never discuss it.”

He looked over. “You deserved to know, and I felt as though I needed to provide an explanation for my specific… behaviors.”

“Like flinching every time you see a birdcage?”

“Yes, and why I compulsively touch my shoulder every time I see a forge.”

Shadow Milk scooted closer and Pure Vanilla leaned into his side, face pressing against the other’s sleeve and his wing curling over the blue shoulder on his other side.

“I used to get nightmares about that place. I couldn’t sleep without one of the other Ancients actively holding me, for fear that I could be back there; back on that stage as the numbers grew higher and higher.”

“At least they had good taste, I suppose.”

He smiled, apathy fading somewhat. “Hmm. I feel as though you are slightly biased in that assumption, Bluebird.”

“Me? Biased? Never. You’re crazy. This is just a common fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, you’re the most beautiful cookie to ever grace Earthbread, fire is hot. You know, the basics.”

Pure Vanilla gently grasped Shadow Milk’s hand where it laid beside his own. “I feel as though one of those things is out of place.”

His husband grinned. “Oh right, silly me. Sometimes the grass is yellow. My mistake.”

He laughed softly. 

It was silent for a moment.

“Thank you…” He whispered.

“You’d do the same for me, I’m just returning the favor, silly.”

Pure Vanilla gently pushed Shadow Milk down, and the other went easily, looking at him with curiosity.

The Avian simply laid across his chest again, fingers intertwining with his husband’s own.

“...Thank you for trusting me with this, Nilla.”

His smile grew a fraction. “You are the only person I trust with this.”

He leaned up, pressing his lips against Shadow Milks for a long moment.

“I love you, Bluebird.”

“And I love you, Nilla.”

…

“You will never be caged again.”