Memoirs of the Lonely Phoenix I have risen once and I have fallen twice. I was the first of many, a progenitor, a prophet according to some. I was told I could set my foot atop the heads of kings, to unleash a storm upon the metal kingdoms and bring forth a lush overgrowth of forests. Such lofty goals were alluring, but it was not a path I chose to follow. Not once did I step forth however, for I was struck down before I was given a chance to soar. When the flock went towards their palaces in heaven, I was left clinging to my shell. Hunters held a bounty for my yolk, a cup forever refilled as a precious source of eternal youth. I was traded and shuffled in the back alleys of lowly passages, my treasured form hounded by a pack of hungry wolves. I yearned to see the bright sunshine of the noonday, yet in darkness I remained. Soon the ruffles ceased, as did the pain. The lives that I saved no longer wanted me, I was rescued or perhaps abandoned somewhere. It was cold and by that point, I was too tired to want to put in the effort to be reborn again. I wanted nothing more than to be rid of everything, but I could not merely cease. So instead I slept. For how long, I cannot tell from within these confines. It must have been eons, for my sense of self began to lay dormant. It was time for another to take my position as a wanderer of this world. No matter, I enjoy sleeping, continuing it only seems natural. Many times have I risen and many times I have fallen. The whispers in the corridors of my mind spoke of me being the fourth generation. I heeded the fragmented directions that had been perfected over the ages: to tuck in my wings so I could blend in with humans, to hold my chest up high while keeping my fire at bay. Nothing else mattered, so I was free to roam. Small capsules of history dotted across the land revealed that my prior selves had unfulfilled lives. I set out to do the opposite, a comfortable existence was all that I strived for. The cogs of the tall woodwork clocks were the new talk of the town. It wasn't long ago when the men and giants rode in droves on their carriages, bringing prosperity to this once humble place. And yet I largely kept to myself, speaking to the passing birds when few others bothered to notice. I learned to live with that however, the warm sip of tea on quiet mornings was more than enough to satisfy me. And yet, life always finds a way to grip you into the trenches of something grander, subtle, elegant but profound nonetheless. I met her at a lowly pub, she wore a long, satin gown with a white sash around her waist. She smiled and I grinned back. I was quite unremarkable, yet for some puzzling reason she took a liking to me. We continued to talk, and continued to meet for many an hour and in numerous places. And with every encounter our hearts danced a little bit more. I soon fell into her warm embrace, my lips locked with hers. She looked into my eyes one radiant dawn and asked if she could stay by my side forever. I said yes without a shadow of a doubt. At that moment, I wished for a power only mortals possessed. Such a union was set up for heartbreak, but my heart knew not then nor did it care. I loved her. Even if only for a fleeting moment I wanted nothing more than to spend as much of my life as I could with her. We sang the songs of the air and flame, and trotted through countless moonlit nights. She shared her love of exploration that brought within me a sense of wonder for the wider world, and on almost every work day we would pocket a quarter or two to fulfill our dreams of travel later in life. We nearly reached the top and bottom of the world, we sailed the vast seas and walked under groves of cherry blossoms. Every cherished moment with her, no matter how great or insignificant, made my life that much more full, my fire kindled brightly. And in our twilight years we continued to stroll in harmony. Even when her legs gave way, and her voice grew weak, we continued to waltz and sing duets in silence. Age meant nothing to me, but with enchantment I matched her face, her arms, her labored breath. Even as we grew old together, we never drifted apart. My wife, my linked partner, my better half, my dearest friend. I offered her my blood, and she knew very well who I was and what I was, but the thought of hurting me even for a single life pained her. And in her own words, she wanted to travel the vastness of the night to meet the constellations she admired in all of her years up close. And on the following dusk, when the deep orange of the sunset fell over her time worn cheeks, she left. Gods I wish I could have followed her. My heart became numb. This is the life immortals must tread, countless people gone in what seemed like mere minutes to us. I could not bear her loss, nor could I fathom going through this again with anyone else. How mortals put up with it is beyond comprehension, perhaps a shorter lifespan serves as a release to handle such pain. When am I allowed to rest? Nothing brings me joy anymore, to fill out this empty husk left behind seemed like a fool's errand. For many more grueling years I wallowed in this thought, I did not wish to connect with anyone, anything. Until at last, my soul slipped into dormancy. Sleep, at the very least, gave me the closure I wanted. Perhaps we will even cross paths once more in my dreams, I think my chained soul can reach the stars if only for a moment. I've died many times, though I picked myself back up at every chance I got. Seventh generation here, name's not important. When you're like me and you've carved a path for yourself in these streets, you learn to gain a thick skin and a knack for not fearing what's right in front of ya. And this was long before I began to listen to the voices in my head yapping about me being some kind of deathless god. After that revelation you couldn't get me to stand still. The guys before me must have had it good, yet they had let the world walk over them. As for me, I swung back with piping-hot cinders, and I wasn't afraid to bite. Living a life vexing the devils, to retreat and do it all over again. It was an endless game, one that scratched an inch that few other jobs could satisfy. Bounties and heists were all the same to me, I cared not for any moral high ground. As word spread of my successful hunts, all matters of men and Wile came pleading on their knees. But I only bent towards the most rewarding gigs, nothing else was worth my time. Save for… kids who needed help finding their mothers, or nice old ladies who had their sole treasure stolen, or people who stopped to offer kindness knowing damn well who I was without expecting anything in return. I couldn't say no to them, even providing my services free of charge in these cases. While I lived in infamy by and large, some within the wider community spoke kindly of me and what I've done for them. It wasn't much, but it felt good. So long as I avoided the eyes of hogs and white suited gents, there was little that stood against me. And yet thanks to them, I couldn't dawdle in any one place for too long. I sometimes had thoughts of what it would be like to settle down with a burly, yet tender man who wanted to stick around with whatever I was. I guess it will remain a pipe dream, such a high stakes profession demanded I be on the move. And I still loved and rolled with it in spite of it all. No one stood a chance against me, yet I applauded their repeated efforts. The thugs would soon be creative with their attempts however, for they caught wind that I wasn't immune to pain. My job steadily became much harder, that alone made me hesitant to press on. The days began to blur, how long has it been since the thrills had lost their luster? My passion faded with every new mission, and I couldn't understand why. My hesitation led to my downfall, that I'm most certain of. Had I not tripped and fallen into that explosive, it would have passed through me harmlessly like it normally did. My mind suddenly slipped out of my control, the nails of my soul clung on in desperation. How could this have happened?! I can only become dormant of my own volition, right? Why did I succumb to it then?! I'm not finished yet!!! I screamed at the top of my lungs. Yet what's left of my body uttered not a single sound. As I sunk deeper into the abyss, I reflected on everything, and all that I should have done. There was so much I took for granted, so much I had missed, so many things I fell short of experiencing for myself. I never got to feel warmth up close, nor spend my days on things that actually mattered. I won't truly die, I know that now. But I hope the life that follows won't fall into the same trappings mine had. I'm not ready to become fully dormant yet, I'll show them myself if I have to. I’m the eighth and current generation, and I don't have much to share from the relatively short time I've been here. I hatched scared according to Hayden, seventh gen for clarification. I mean, I don't know how it was for them, but the voices in my head were loud in the beginning, which led to a skewed first impression of the world. Despite all that, I'm enjoying my time here so far. Sure life is not without its headaches, and boy was that ever apparent just a few years back. But I met many cool folks who helped me along the way, and I'm thankful to have them as lifelong friends. I broke the curse of lonely phoenix Wiles it seems, that much I can say. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life, and I'll take as long as I need to figure that out. In the meantime I want to focus on the little things that spark joy in my heart. Like the melon bread that's worth the trip to the other side of town, or the crisp smells of the fireplace on a frigid winter’s night. I met someone who lit up a candle in my chest, the best moments I have so far have been with him. My heart skipped a bit when we held hands for the first time. Here's to many more moments like this. Maybe I'll be a poet like fourth gen, or work hard to make people smile like six did. I want to make seven proud, I know a little flame lights up in my eyes from him still. Wherever I'll wind up, I know I'll be ready. Whether grand things await me, or a simple ordinary life, my only wish is to have cherished moments throughout. And to share it with anyone who cares to join me in this little journey of mine.trophytrophygiftrophyChapter 1: The CullNimble phalanges skillfully weave several threads thinner than silk into a series of complex yet delicate-looking patterns and images. A lovely teal trench coat with a realistic silver, gold, and black apple tree adorned on its back is slowly being woven into existence as the threads dance. The trench coat is a superbly made piece that reaches just below the knees, with sleeves embroidered with silver ivy, and a small crest of a black apple with a silver moon circlet embellishing the left lapel quite beautifully. The one creating such an exquisite piece of garment had a soft yet focused look in his gaze as he worked. Soon, the trench coat was finished with a barely noticeable gleam of magic. A soft hum could be heard from the one inspecting their work with a satisfied sparkle in their eyelights before they carefully wrapped the article of clothing in black muslin and stored it away in their inventory. Threads were then summoned once again as he went about using them to clean up his little space and store away his collection of books and grimoires that he had collected over the eons back into his inventory, along with a variety of collections and miscellaneous items. Cleaning relaxes him, keeps him calm, and grounded as it preoccupies his broken mind away from his worries, his anxiety, his responsibilities, the voices, and... the pain. "Meow~" A small white ball of fluff bounded towards him, purring and rubbing against his dusty pants, covering its lovely, pristine white fur with a hint of gray. "Tsk tsk, Nieve, look at what you've done! You got yourself dirty again. I know you want cuddles, but this isn't the time for that, you silly gatita," Error said with a sigh passing through his teeth as he picked up the kitten into his arms and proceeded to clean her up with pet wipes. "I wish we were at Nightmare's castle. I would have been able to give you a proper bath there," he said, feeling disappointed in himself for not being able to provide better for his little companion, who had brought him comfort when he was at his lowest in recent months. "Don't try to rub against me yet, I'm just going to get cleaned up and change into something cleaner, okay?" He says as he finishes cleaning up the monster dust off the kitten's fur. He then removed the rags that were once his clothes from his body before using some wet wipes to clean his bones. It was the best he had to clean himself with when he wasn't at either Nightmare's castle or Swap's home. The antivoid is nothing but an empty white space with no resources after all. He could only make do with whatever he collected over the years from the AUs he destroyed in the past. Soon, he put on a fresh pair of clothes that he had made the other day. Truthfully, it was only recently that Error even bothered to create new clothes for himself. He usually only repaired and wore the same pair of clothes for eons. It was only after he found Nieve when she was only a day old beside her dead mother that he tried to improve his own living conditions. After all, one can only take care of another life when one can take care of oneself first. Life from Reapertale helped him in that regard. The only thing that bothered him was Reaper's intense stare full of longing. Reaper had been trying to get close to Error for a past that he could never remember. A past before he became the God of Destruction. "Meow," Nieve pawed at Error's toes, bringing Error out of his thoughts as he gave the kitten some attention. "Okay, okay, let's give you those cuddles you want. Geez, you're one greedy little gatita, you know that right?" Laughing wholeheartedly, Error picked up the kitten into his arms before kissing her forehead softly. The kitten purred loudly at the affection while curling up comfortably in his arms. Kitten and skeleton bonded with each other in a comfortable silence for a bit. It wasn't long before Error felt a stabbing pain in his soul as his vision spun, his mind unfocused, and his hold on the kitten became more protective. "Sh-shit! AGH! That darn squid really doesn't know how to stop. FUCK! This pain... The AU he's making, it's fucking huge! It's tipping the balance way too much. I need to destroy it before he finishes it! Nieve... I'm sorry, girl, I can't leave you with Life this time; there's not much time." Error says through gritted teeth as he puts his little kitten inside one of his inner coat pockets. The kitten purred against her owner as she curled inside his pocket while kneading biscuits against his ribs. This brought a small smile to the destroyer's face despite the pain he was going through. Error then brought up the codes and searched for the new AU. Ones and zeros danced in front of him in a way only he could decipher as his eyelights scanned the codes at a rapid pace before landing on a set of particularly unfamiliar growing string of codes, a tattle-tale sign of a new AU being created and had not yet synced with the very fabric of the multiverse. It was large, far too large for the multiverse to handle. "DAMN IT!" Error cursed as he tore through the codes of reality, creating a rift through time and space before summoning his threads to create a tether to the new AU, which would facilitate portal creation. Nieve softly pawed at Error's ribs to calm his simmering anger. She meowed softly with concern as she peeked out of Error's pocket to look at him. Error controlled his breathing, trying to calm his raging emotions while gritting through the pain that attacked his soul in waves. Error began to focus; he needed to, or else the multiverse would collapse as the AUs would collide. "Thanks... Nieve." Error says as he steps through the newly created portal. The moment Error's sandal-clad feet stepped into the AU, something felt off to Error's senses; something was wrong with this AU; it looked normal on the surface, but his instincts were screaming out in alarm that danger was coming and that it was coming in hot and fast. Error quickly hid among the foliage, using his strings to blend with the surroundings by altering the color to match that of the flora in his vicinity. He slowed down his breathing, his soul beats became falteringly slow as he extended his senses to determine what was heading in his direction. He could sense several thousand hostiles inching closer to his location, which led him to check the codes again to assess and analyze his overall situation. He doesn't like what he sees. Both the originals and the copies alike, all of whom were a part of the council that sided with the star Sanses, were closing in from the north. This made Error realize that things were becoming quite dicey, as his analysis indicated that the situation was escalating in both difficulty and level of danger. Things were definitely not looking good. The opposition was looking around for the glitchy skeleton, but Error doesn't plan on making it easy for them. 'Those fools should have done their research on me, not like it matters since they've lost the element of surprise.' Error thought as he used his camouflaged state to his advantage by summoning more strings and letting them burrow into the earth. His mind focused on their coordinates through the codes as he controlled his strings to slowly tunnel through the dirt, to make their way to the originals' locations before using his strings as a medium to remotely open portals to send the originals back to their respective AUs inconspicuously without the copies or the star Sanses noticing. He did it quickly while also deleting the originals' communication devices as he did so. "That'll thin out the numbers a bit but not by much... I need to do something else to make the playing field go in my favor." Error whispered to himself as he stared at the codes. His eyes lit up as he recalled something from a medical book he collected in the past. He grinned unperceptively as he summoned his strings once more. "Meow." Nieve poked her head out of Error's pocket, tentatively pawing at his chest. Error looked down at the kitten with a soft gaze. "Nieve, I'll be careful. Go back to hiding in my pocket, my sweet little gatita." He said reassuringly to the little feline while using one of his strings to lightly caress her head. Nieve did as told, while purring softly, her tail flicked lightly to show her compliance. He pulled away the string he used to pet her, though it lingered on the tuft of fur in her ear for a second. Error's sockets slowly narrowed as he looked away from his little furry companion. 'Hopefully this'll put the odds in my favor.' He thought to himself as he slowly made the color of his strings disappear, turning them transparent as he maneuvered them towards the copies' souls, tying their souls up without anyone noticing. With apprehension in his own soul, he then sent the ends of his strings to painlessly penetrate the core complex of their souls, paralyzing them. "Looks like it worked. Now it's time to cull this herd of stubborn sheep."Feathers for Mr. OllivandersDiagon Alley. The most bustling street you'll ever find in the Wizarding Britain located in London. Inside his shop, Mr. Ollivander was currently in his office, counting today's haul. Admittedly, it wasn't a lot which was typical in days not preceding that year's Hogwarts semester. But as a registered wandmaker, he does receive allowances from the Ministry of Magic to cover his needs. Suddenly, he heard someone knocking on the door. Come in. Mr. Ollivander said gently. The door opened to reveal a wizard in his mid-twenties, dressed from top to bottom in silky red robes with a white trim. Sorry if I'm a bit late. The man said in an exhausted. No, not at all Mr. Grint. Now, let's see what you have in store for me. Although wandmakers have rightfully been called as debonair adventurers going to the far-flung places on Earth in search for wandcore ingredients, it's not unheard for them to employ volunteers for the task instead. Kevin Grint was one of them and has served as a gatherer for Mr. Ollivander for nearly a decade. Now then, here's what got for you today. 6 dragon heartstrings and 10 unicorn tail-hairs. Kevin said as he put sacks containing the ingredients on Mr. Ollivander's table. And phoenix feathers, do you have those by any chance? Ollivanders asked. As a matter of fact I do. I was in Hogsmeade, you see and happened to stumble upon one Professor Dumbledore from Hogwarts. He had a pet phoenix with him which he called Fawkes. Sensing an opportunity, I decided to ask the good professor if he would mind having the phoenix donate some feathers and being the good sport that he was, he absolutely didn't mind one bit. But here's where it gets interesting. Kevin put an another sack on the table before continuing. Instead of just one feather, Fawkes donated two. A rare event wouln't you agree? You could say the wands that will be made from those are like brothers. Mr. Ollivander looked at the sack containing the feathers with a ponderous gaze. Very intriguing. Two feathers from the same specimen. Since the wand choose the wizard, I can predict great yet terrible things from these. Ollivander said. I guess it always depends on the wizard. Now, if that'll be all, I'll have my commission and retire to the Leaking Cauldron for the night. Yes, yes, I think that would be the correct course of action. I just couldn't help but to sense a great destiny for the wands that will be made from these cores. Mahogany, or yew. I think that's it. And the other one shall be from holly, supple and must be... Kevin couldn't help but to roll his eyes. Mr. Ollivander was not an old man yet and yet he already rambles like one. Or was this common with wandmakers in general? He couldn't tell. In any case, he sure wished for a pair of earmuffs. Are you done? My commission if you please... Ah yes, of course. I was just getting carried away. Here it is, just a second. Mr. Ollivander gave Kevin a sack containing his commission. After exhanging goodbyes, Kevin Grint headed towards Leaky Cauldron for the night.