Chapter 1: The Wanderer
Chapter Text
Frost knew that life would get hard if he escaped the Psionic Order, he also knew that the world was not a gentle place; especially to someone who happened to look so rough at the moment. He had always been more on the hygienic side; he tended to always look after his appearance, just to not look bedraggled. But that was a hard task to keep up, specially for someone who had traded most of his possessions either for food or shelter while on the run from the Order. People are not kind to vagabonds.
He was evading the Order to the best of his capabilities, so he decided traveling through a forest was his best option. He walked along the river side, feeling the weight of his travels upon himself. He layed under a tree shade.
He was tired and starving; he had run out of provitions almost a fortnite ago, and being a monk on the run meant no money for buying food. Logically he would hunt for food being a tabaxi, but his 'no harming' oath kept him from killing an innocent creature for him to satisfy his carnal need for food. But he was famished, looking almost rackity; he had to hunt something in order to survive. He wondered if the smaller the creature he killed, the smaller his future karma; he also knew his starved body wouldn't be able to eat that much; he even felt filled to capacity with the scoop of water he had drank from the river in front of him a few minutes ago.
As he thought of the posible punishments the universe would bestow upon him, a small bluebird landed on the ground near him and it seemed to peck at something. This was his chance.
He slowly sat up from where he was laying under the tree shade so he didn't scare the bird off. He focused on the birds movements and followed it as it hopped around pecking at the ground.
He quickly sprang to his feet and charged at the small bird, clawing aimlessly at the air as the bird flew away, not so far from him. He tried again, this time feeling a little lightheaded and winded all of a sudden. He tried ignoring the feeling as he charged once more towards the bird; his vision turned black all of a sudden as he felt like something had body slammed him.
The image was forlorn. Morning Frost was laying on the bright green grass face down, almost a yard away from the fast flowing river and a few bluebirds pecking at the fleas off of his limp spread out arm. He drifted in and out of conciousness, losing track of time, but something in him pothered. A dire sensation. Feeling dreadful of a grim end if he didn’t move as the wind changed, blowing cold and rapid.
He didn’t have the strength to look up at the sky and see the fast approaching dark grey clouds, but he could smell the ozone in the air. A storm was coming.
He heard the first rain drops hit the back of his robe hood, he could feel the cold water seep through the fabric. He also felt the cold, grim reality he found himself. Those first drops reminded him the failure of his escape from the Order. And as those loose drops turned into a drizzle, his counciousness drifted once more.
The drizzle started to soak his clothes, and if he were awake, the freezing wind would chill him to be bone. But his unconscious body reamined there limp and motionless as the drizzle turned into pouring rain, now soaking him down to his fur and skin.
The mind blowed agressively, thunder roared in the distance and a flash of lightning in the now grim day showed an out cold Frost, unfazed by the river’s level rising closer and closer to him.
By the time he shortly came back to conciousness, he was already in a shallow and cold puddle. He shivered profusely as his eyes began to well with bitter tears. Destiny as a twisted sense of humor, if it had any.
There was no use in fighting anymore; he closed his eyes. A single tear slid down his muzzle as he let out a brittle breath.
The water was rising fast. He was ready.
Some splashing could be heard near Frost’s unconcious frame, a small ripple that hit his face woke him up breafly, but long enough to hear the splashing get closer and feel a pair of hands grip his robe firmly to turn him over on his back. “Hang in there” a gentle voice said urgently as he felt a hand craddle the back of his head, sitting him up minutely. He blinked groggily as the pouring rain hit his face. The blurred shadow of someone kneeling over him alerted him, but not enough to fight. He felt something warm over the top of his head; a sudden calmness and peace hugged him.
Chapter Text
He saw glimpses of a mauve force craddleing him as he glided uphill, a cloacked figure walking ahead.
The next time he opened his eyes his was someplace indoors, unknown to him. So was the dazzling beauty hovering above his laying body that placed a warm hand over his eyes and said “Rest for now” sending him into a deep slumber.
His training in the Psionic Order rid him of dreams in slumber and turned them into astral journeys; he now found himself in a concious dream, perhaps a different plane of existence. And when he realized his magic wasn’t working, he wondered where he was.
“You are safe” a voice said behind him as if it could hear his thoughts. He quickly turned around but saw no one, or nothing; only an endless tall grass plain.
“Where am I?” his voice came out hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in a long time, taking a step towards where the voice came from. A sort of light pink pollen rose from the grass he walked on.
“Right were you need to be” the pink particles seemed to speak to him, almost in a hum.
He felt silent as his thoughts raced, thiking of what had happened to him.
“You are not dead” the light breeze said into his ear “But you gave it your best shot” said the sun rays hitting his fur.
He didn’t feel neither disturbed nor reasured by that statement; afterall, death was often not the worst fate one could meet.
“May I know who, or what, you are?” he asked looking around him, taking in the weird but pleasant scenery. Everything seemed odd but harmonious, like a twisted version of the world he knew.
“You will know my name” the hum in his head said.
“I’ll look forward to that moment” he said looking aimlessly in the distance. “I feel the need to thank you. Whom or whatever you might be” he stated feeling an uncomprehensible hunger in his mind.
“No need for that” the lavander scent in the air said calmly. “Ready?” asked the energy.
“For what?” Frost asked as he felt like he had been strongly pushed back from the chest, falling on his back.
Notes:
I'm aware that this chapter is really short...
Chapter Text
His eyes opened groggily, he bliked a few times, seeing everything as one big blur, but noticed he was laying on his back, his hand palmed down, feeling a soft fabric under him. He felt confused at the fact that he was most likely laying on a bed. He took a deep breath; a lavander scent graced by him. He seemed alerted by this; he sat up supporting his weight on his elbows and hands. He felt heavy and weak; rare. His thoughts seemed unorganized, scrambled even. The resent events took their toll.
He noticed he had been laid on a thin but comfortable mattress. He also noticed a silhouette on his right. It seemed to handle things in front of a window.
“I knew you’d wake up around this time” you said softly as you turned around. You walked towards him and smudged a lilac paste on his nose. Frost scrunched his face in discomfort by the cold sensation; he started licking it off his nose.
“Tabaxis are dusk creatures” he stated licking the last of the lavander scented paste of his nose. His thoughts seemed to slow down a bit.
“I didn’t mean that” you said gifting him with a soft smile. You smudged more lavander paste on his nose. Frost didn’t fight it, but started licking it right away as he looked at you. He recognized you.
“Are you...?” he doubted for a moment but said your name at last.
“Yes” you said looking at him with a hypnotic, piercing gaze. He gawked back at you.
He had seen all kinds of magic users but you. His mind could barely begin to fathom the nature of your magic, let alone the way it worked or how you used it.
“I’m guessing you are the person responsible who kept me from drowning. I should thank you” he said bashfuly as he finished licking the paste off of his nose. Something in you made him writhe internaly.
“I already told you there’s no need for that” you lulled. You dipped one finger in the wooden bowl you were holding and scooped more lavander paste out, and when you lifted your hand you to smudge some of it on Frost’s nose, he dodged it. You gave him a demanding glare and he stayed still, letting you smudge his nose again. He licked it off quicker this time, the strong scent was overwhelming him.”Oh, I know. It’s a strong scent even for me, I can’t even imagine how strong it is for a tabaxi like you” you comforted him tilting your head slightly.
He shifted his weight, completely sitting up. He noticed his mind was still and quiet, and his body less weak and lighter. He also noticed he was only wearing his ataman pants.
“Where’s my robe?” he asked hurriedly and attempted to sit up from the small bed, only to be stopped by your hand firmly grabbing him by the shoulder, impeding him to stand up. He looked at you quizzed. You were awfully strong for your height and demeanor.
“Your monk robe is safe” you stated sternly. You already knew he meant no distrust towards you with that action. So when his eyes started peeking around your house you squeezed his shoulder lightly, caughting his attention. When he turned his gaze to you, you did a motion with your other hand, materializing his robe and handing it to him. His body relaxed once he grabbed it, and started feeling drowsy again once he had his clothes on.
He saw a mauve glimmer in your eyes and he layed back down on the bed. His instincts wanted to distrust you but he couldn’t bring himself to it as he slowly closed his eyes.
You saw him fall asleep and felt his dreams fret. You placed a hand on his forehead, calming the clouds in his minds. You could feel his energy was tainted with mistrust, hurt and confusion; clouding over a gentle and loving soul.
You wondered what had happened to this young man and why was he left so mentally scarred. You were able to find out the basics, just because those were printed at the front of his mind and lightly linked to his soul. But that was as far as you were willing to go on such a hurt psyche, not wanting your investigation to turn into a violation. You wondered if he’d open his spirit to you. But you also knew some things are better left as mysteries.
You let out a sigh as got up to prepare the things for when he wakes up; three days time by your calculations.
Notes:
Second chapter of the night...
I felt the need to publish what I had written in a Word document because I'm going on a trip tomorrow. Said trip is to go to a concert lol
Anyways...
Chapter Text
Frost noticed he was dreaming again. He found himself in the same tall grass plain, the only difference being that it seemed to be nighttime, as soothingly uncanny as daytime.
The pollen-like particles glowed in a light purple hue this time. Those seemed to strongly catch his attention. He reached out to touch one but it sprang away; as if alive.
That little dot grew bigger and glowed in a light blue hue now. It twiddled energetically. Frost jumped at it, trying to catch it with paw-like hands. The little light dodged and this catch-me-if-you-can game begun. Frost jumped, ran and leaped around while playing with the light. He hadn’t felt so light like this for a long time.
As he played around, the light purple particles in the grass flew away, like dandelion seeds in the wind. He could do this forever, but he had already come to the understanding this was a mental tool so that his physical body could have a better quality rest.
The light blue dot hovered a few inches above the ground; still. Frost jumped on it, catching it between his paws. A brilliant light explosion sent him elsewhere, a body-less plane where he knew he was himself but possessed no physical from. As he felt himself in the Veil, an eye-like shape manifested. It blinked slowly once. Its shapeless pupil shallowed Frost’s energy. He woke up.
This time he felt rested and his body ached less. Whatever kind of magic you used was... unique; to put it in a simple term.
He saw you sitting at the foot of the bed reading a book. He knew you could sense he had already woken up. He thought for a moment, not knowing if you were listening at the moment. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked.
“I was hoping you would ask” you said putting the book down on the bed. He followed each of your movements with sharp golden eyes. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous. You were still human after all. “A little over two days” you answered his question. “Less than I had calculated” you continued as you got closer to him, materializing a little drop counter with some orange substance inside. “You have a strong spirit” you stated and slided closer to him.
“Lately I’ve been doubting that” he said scratching near his collarbone, a little flea could be seen diving out and back into his fur. He looked self-conciouss about it. As he continued to scratch his chest, shoulder and down his arm he started getting more uncomfortable by the second. He started biting and nipping into the fur on his forearm.
You looked at him compassionately and took his arm away from his muzzle. He looked at you with large insecureness as you got closer to him and placed your free hand on the middle of his chest, opening his fur and squeezing the orange oily mixture you had prepared for him. You repeated the process on each side of his neck and the middle of his back, between his scapulas.
“Is that for the fleas?” he asked looking down into his lap. This really seemed to affect him.
“Yes” you said as you materialized another drop counter.
“I used to have a severe flea problem when I was a kid” he stated, self-concious.
“Must have been a nightmare” you said soothingly as you handed him the new drop counter with more of the same orange oily mixture. “Go to the bathroom and apply this on your armpits, crotch and the hilt of your tail” you instructed him as if you did this everyday. You saw his whiskers perk. “The bathroom’s over there” you pointed to a hallway “Second door on the right” you said as he began to make his way where you pointed to. “There’s also toiletries and a spare toothbrush for you to use” and as you said this, he disappeared into the hallway.
Notes:
I don't know why but, gramatically, this part was kind of hard. English is hard sometimes bruv
Chapter Text
About fifteen minutes later he returned from the bathroom. He entered back your living room where you had improvised the bed for him but didn’t get past the hallway’s threshold as he saw your body hovering above the ground, limp and swathed in the same mauve light he had seen when he was being carried uphill. He wondered what it is that you were doing.
Your body seemed to gain escence again and the glow dimmed, your feet landing softly on the ground. “It’s arcane magic” you said, planting more doubts in Frost. He didn’t seem satisfied with your reply.
“Is this arcane magic a sort of forgotten, perhaps lost, knowledge?” he asked rubbing the beard-like fur on his chin; he had trimmed his facial hair a notch.
“I wouldn’t say forgotten...” you said looking at nothing. It still took you some effort to come back from Above, even after years of practice. You heard Frost let out a hum of aknowledgement to your statement. “It’s ignored” you said looking straight into him. He felt almost stranggled by a sudden force. “Out of fear, mostly” this time your voice seemed to come out of your eyes. Frost felt a cold, electric sensation plunge him.
He felt the same bodyless and shapeless state as his small mind contemplated the endless void, pondering infinity as he saw a figure. A crack in the darkness; a crack of thunder and flash of lightning, the light paths formed a winged creature; unknowned and unfathomable to him. The tear in the endless sky widened; he got sucked into it. He felt splattered back to reality.
After what felt like an eternity of sojourns, he felt his physical body normally again. He was puzzled to said the least. And as he looked back at you, he said “That’s was quite the experience. If I may say so” he tried to sound as collected as possible.
“Don’t try to rationalize it. It just is” you said plainly and walked away, your hair swaying behind your back. Frost was interested. “Are you hungry?“ you asked while walking away. Frost, although startled by what he had just experienced, followed you.
Notes:
Aight... Enjoy! <3
Chapter 6: The Flood
Notes:
Please, enjoy! *bows dramatically like Kremy presenting carnivàle Lecroux*
Chapter Text
After telling him to follow you into the kitchen, which he obliged, you told him to sit down at the table. He hesitated a little, trying to keep his manners, but he was famished so he sat down regardless.
He followed your movements around the kitchen with his gaze; you seemed to have caught his attention.
"Enjoy" you said placing the bowl with food right in front of him. His pupils dilated shortly but quickly reverted as he restrained himself; it was disrespectful to eat without a prayer first. You saw him vow slightly and both of you began eating. You did warn him to eat slowly since you knew he had starved for so long.
As he ate, you saw into him; no mind reading or powers needed. You saw a gentle, curious man who had shoved that down to cover it up with a stoic and controlled façade. He may be able to deceive everybody else but not you. Not when he was so vulnerable and fragile in front of you.
He was so lost in the food he didn't notice the mewl he let out while licking the bowl, the sound of his rough tongue resonating in the quiet kitchen. You felt a weird sensation, a new one; fondness.
This quiet, keen observing continued as you slided your bowl towards him and gestured for him to eat it as well. He looked up at you, and after licking his muzzle, he started eating out of the second bowl.
You kept watching him and each movement and gesture he made; the almost inaudible mewls made your heart swell in this new found feeling.
When he was done, he gave his grace and stayed sitted, unsure of what to do. You looked at him firmly but not sternly. He writhed slightly under you gaze.
"What is it that you want to ask?" you inquired. No powers needed, his body language betrayed him and his supposed stoic demeanor.
He stirred in his seat a little more "The nature of the magic you possess is a true mystery to me" he said gesturing at you "Perhaps you could show me your ways in order to, at least, begin to fathom the depth of your capabilities" he suggested, a wild spark of curiosity showing in his golden-like eyes. The late afternoon sun boosting the colours of his eyes and his orange fur. You mentally sighed in admiration. You wished to know how such a beautiful and intelligent man came to become an aimless wanderer.
"I could begin by saying I did not claim these habilities. They came to me" you spoke softly , still mildly lost in his features.
"Oh, that's interesting..." he said scratching his recently trimmed beard "Where they bestowed upon you?" he inquired gesturing to you.
"At first, when I was really young, I thought so. I thought they were some sort of twisted curse" you said feeling your past struggles gnawing at your psyche. A feeling akin to wrath tainted your spirit. Your face had an almost fond smile on it. Frost looked even more curious..."But, along the way, I learned that this power meant no harm" you said sighing lightly, remembering all the good things it brought "Not to me, at least" you stated shrugging and quickly got up from your seat, picking the food bowls and turning to leave them in the sink. Behind you, you sensed Frost's anticipatory demeanor. "Oh, don't worry. It's not aimed towards you" you waved it off
"Then, who is it aimed to?" he asked gently placing his paw-like hands on his lap, understanding that you truly meant no harm.
"That's unimportant for now" you answered. In Frost's eyes, the spark of curiosity flickered brighter but said nothing, nonetheless.
Your mind, however, became flooded with the thoughts and sensations the man in front of you was experiencing. 'Huh, interesting...' you thought trully to yourself, not letting that thought into his mind, he already had enough going on.
In this thought-flood, in the surface's reflection, you saw how blurry his self-image was, as if covered by a dense fog. Each particle in the fog carried self doubt, hatred, sadness or fear. But underneath the fog, in the deep, dark water, each drop cradling something from his past.
You scooped some water up, held it close, let the sunlight hit it. It throbbed in longing. You tilted your hand, letting the water drip out of your hand, each drop cutting the fog and hitting the water with a quiet sound. You saw drop after drop fall out of your timeless hands, but one caught your attention loudly as it fell; one of him, hand in hand with his parents. The sunlight Above hit the drop, freezing it in place; now that it was cristal clear, the light fragmented. Before you, a display of colors danced out of the cristal drop.
Burning in red light, you saw the cold bodies of his parents, atrociously slayed; but also the warm love they had for him in life.
Flickering in orange, the long hot summer noons training under the mercyless sun rays; and the warm voice of his mother while reading a book to him in front of a fireplace.
Glimmering in yellow, the teeth of the ruthless men who took him away; and the harmonic laughter of him and his father as they ran through a wheat plantation near a farm house.
Twinkling in green, the fond memories of his magic studies; and the moment his master handed him the robe he had protected so hardly with his life.
Flashing in blue, the cold pain of the freezing nights he endured alone; and the calming breeze that tickled his cub fur as he played by himself.
Sparkling indigo sorrows that tugged at his heart; and a future yet near sensation that tugged the opposite way.
Past the threshold of the mind, glowing in violet, the outline of a powerful spirit; unbendable.
Out the door of his spirit, almost in blinding rays, shone his soul. Placing a welcoming warmth onto yours. You looked back to see the journey behind you; a shadow was cast from the light. You peered into it; the exasperated sighs and frustrated yells of a man starved for heroism fluttered in the gloom. Two golden eyes jumped at you from within it, taking you back to your somatic form; in front of you the same pair of golden eyes still flickered bright with curiosity.
Chapter 7: The Breeze
Chapter Text
That flood of thoughts and emotions left you stunned briefly; it took you a few moments to realize those golden eyes were staring at you, a mix of the same curiosity as before with worry. You knew your physical body had gone through mere instants while your mind witnessed this man's inner turmoil. That's where his worry came from; his very being was being stripped naked like no way before; his curiosity told him to give in to the beckoning you were bestowing upon him. He felt his judgement clouded by doubt until a renewed spark of something he had lost so long ago flickered enthusiastically: hope.
You saw his demeanor shift slightly, the hands that rested on his lap were now on the table, supporting his weight as he propped himself up to his feet. Your poor makeshift table trembled under the weight of the tabaxi as he stood. Even as hunched over slightly due to weakness and rather scrawny looking due to the starvation he had endured as he was, you were able to appreciate his imponent form near you. You sighed mentally, far from his reach. "What are you doing? Sit down" you said hurriedly, afraid his body would fail to keep him on his feet. You saw him mouth something, something that clearly wasn't able to come out due to how winded he felt all of a sudden; a protest maybe. "Alright, time for some rest" you said putting down the things you were holding and walked over to him.
When you approached him, you felt his worries pooling out of his aura; a spiky, cold sensation touched you. You had felt this before; the day you found him face down in the water. You couldn't help but feel saddened by this dreadful feeling.
Once a little closer, you heard how much he was trying to control his breathing; still propped up on the table.
"Frost" you called. One of his ears turned your way; you had his attention. "I'm going to reach Inside" you said plainly and paused for a moment for his approval; he nodded weakly.
Without a second to waste, you splayed your hand on his forehead; he felt the already familiar mauve warmth overcome him. You swung one of his arms over your shoulders switfly, helping him on his feet to guide him to the improvised bed on your living room.
As you help him get to the improvised bed, you were also providing aid Inside; split in between your somatic form and the mind realm.
You searched for that same spiky, cold sensation, past the overflowing river and far into time. Your journey wasn't long, for you knew what you were looking for.
And there, in a dimly lit tavern, sat Frost, eating something a man had handed to him after he had pleaded for what seemed like hours. His incapacitating hunger blinded him to the pungent smell of arsenic. It wasn't long before he started feeling the symptoms of the poison.
You watched as this man, along with his goons, cackled furiously as they watched Frost scamper away from them and out of the tavern.
You felt obligated to intervene. Not only for Frost, but because you knew that this man was a menace to he wellbeing of the local community.
As Frost opened the tavern door quickly to get out, a warm, mauve breeze glided in. As it chafed in, out bloomed the feelings of jealousy, envy, wrath, hatred, sorrow and euphoria of the guilty in its wake. The tavern trembled in the voluptuous strife.
Left and right, people and creatures of all kinds unsheathed their weapons to slay the closest person to them. Others ready their fists to hit those who dared harm their loved ones. A couple few began kissing frantically as violence grew around them.
The breeze blew harder to hit the man who poisoned Frost directly in the face. No physical battle was to teach such a dimwit anything. He felt his hour upon him when the mauve breeze filled his nostrils with the smell of his sorrows and regrets; those who had taken him to be the despicable man he was.
He looked around in search for some sort of aid; help even. But only saw enemies who despised him, regardless of being very busy either murdering, harming or kissing their closest person. His bitter thoughts of sudden loneliness made him burst into an uncontrollable, sour laughter. He felt his hilarious, sorrow filled tears drip down his cheeks as he witnessed the riot in the room.
As he looked around, confused and desperate, the breeze seemed to take form in front of his mind; a pair of membranous wings splayed wide, obscuring his vision. And between the wings, the faces of those who he had let down and betrayed.
"I am so sorry" the man pleaded in between sobs as he reached his belt. The wails of the betrayed screeched inside in very mind, spirit and soul; a sign of being too late. He finally understood, so, from his belt, he took out a small dagger. An inaudible sob escaped his mouth as he pondered his obligation. And with one fright-filled, swift motion, he slashed his neck open. He dropped on his knees, clasping desperately at his neck as he watched the mauve breeze laugh on his face and leave the place.
Outside, in a side alley, Frost was on his knees, fingers knuckle-deep in his throat in a somewhat successful manouver to rid his body from the poison; unaware of the brawl inside.
Now weakened by the vigorous puking, he stood on his wavering legs and shuffled away.
As this past version of Frost struggled to hold onto life, and as sorry as it made you feel, you reached Inside. You deemed that the best strategy was to untangle that taut knot from both ends. The force of your will upon his scarred trust pushed, twisted and pulled until his soul let go of that distrust. Something in his spirit smiled in reverent gratitude.
Your somatic form was carefully laying Frost down on the bed in the living room.
You watched him let out a sigh as soon as his head hit the pillow; he looked better, lighter even. As you straightened yourself up after laying him down, you felt his heavy gaze follow through each of your minuscule movements; you were nervous now. Those golden eyes were already becoming a weakness of yours. Not that you'll let him know. At least not yet.
He took a soft, deep breath and after slowly letting it out, he mellowly said "Thank you" through drowsy eyes he stared.
You briefly froze in place, dazed by how soft he looked in the moment. You gained some of your footing back and fondly replied "You're welcome" as you almost instinctively place a delicate hand on the side of his face, caressing the beard-like, soft fur with your thumb.
You stood beside the bed for a short moment, contemplating the sight before your eyes. An already fast asleep Frost, chest rising and falling slowly, bathed in the golden dusk light that came through the window. You smiled to yourself and walked away. You had a long night ahead of you...
Notes:
I had a good time writing this chapter uwu
Chapter 8: The Infinite Walk
Notes:
In honour of one of Frosty's favourite numbers...
Chapter Text
As his mind drifted further in the realm of dreams, something he thought long forgotten due to his training, he saw the scene at the tavern from Above. Not feeling your presence, he wondered whether if that happened or not after he left.
Had you and your powers intervene right then and there or was it a time warping where you bended reality at will?
Was the present affected by the past or the past affected by the future? How come does the future begin before the beginning?
Is the beginning really the starting point or is it where the labyrinths of time cross paths?
...Yes...
The paths; so, so long that trick one's mind into believing they are a straight line... But look from Above and one shall see that they go on and on in an ascending infinite walk. Everything and nothing makes sense.
Had he already met you, perhaps in this life or the others interwoven in the very strings of space and time?
Was this the 'ignored knowledge' you possessed or was this a mere scratch on the surface of the memories of the universe and the Beyond?
...Yes...
How come the Beyond be behind, beside and before himself all at once? Was he dead?
From a certain point of view...
Floating inside a warm liquid, breathing from him belly; was this what being dead felt like? Like the embrace of a long, dearly missed love?
Is this love from the universe or does it come from Within?
...Yes...
How could he even begin to feel this unfathomable tenderness? Has he hated enough to love?
Was he to look for it, for it was something he had lost so long ago?
...Yes...
What would it feel like?..
And as in soul yearned for that feeling, he couldn't help but enjoy the minty sensation right in the middle of his forehead. This very sensation brought him to the realization that his being had regained a somewhat physical form; right at the threshold of energy and matter.
This, for lack of a better word, ectoplasmic form felt his but looked different as he stared down on himself; appreciating the copious amounts of black, white and orange feathers. The latter, each displaying a fully alive and witnessing golden eye.
Each eyes spoke in tongues he thought forbidden, they spoke of lying gods and restraining laws. Each eye saw Beyond and Above but also here and before. He felt like forever witnessing both the horrors and the marvels of existence itself.
And so far in the distance, right behind his back, he saw himself sleep right in the middle of the long ribbon of space and time. The vision swinging as if in a hammock. Hung past his death and before his birth.
A strong feeling, one that refuses to be put into words, stronger than he had ever felt before thrummed inside of him and also everywhere. This thrumming shifted to became a thump, a thump and then a hum. A hum so divine it melted into his spirit to become air. The air left his lungs and he watched every particle make its way to a renewed cycle to, sometime, be inhaled again.
He then awakened...
Chapter Text
That last breath, the one that relived the cycle, once again inside him, jolted him awake; but not alarmed, just revived, as if it was had found a new energy, a new drive.
He kept himself lyied down, taking in the new information he had seem to learn throughout many lifetimes and timelines, taking slow breaths and enjoying the warm morning sunlight currently hitting his face, feeling his fur tickle slightly under the rays. He reached his face with his magical hand to scratch his face and found a dead tickle. Well maybe it wasn't the sun, but the discovery of the tickles already dying off brought a small smirk to his face.
He saw himself in this moment, and also long ago when he was a little cub living in a farm with his parents. He saw himself in front of a bonfire, his father cooking something for the three of them and his mother searching his fur for tickles and taking them out; not before a light scold reminding him that the crops were full of those and he would continue to catch them if he kept playing there. This little boy just scratched himself haphazardly and started giggling and wiggling when his mother started nibbing playfully on his neck and shoulders.
Back in the present, he felt a fond smile plastered on his face. It's been so long since he could remember his parents with such clarity.
He wasn't the only one with a fond smile; behind the kitchen curtain, you were looking a him as he woke up. You felt happy that after all he has been through a genuine smile was showing on his face.
"Having good memories, I see" you started off, entering the living room with a light step and a lighter voice, not wanting to alarm him. You saw a smidge of confusion, perhaps thinking if you were invading his mind. "Oh, don't you worry. I wasn't reading into your thoughts" his expression seemed more confused "It's written all over you face. It's nice to see you smile" you said with a smile of your own, completely stepping from behind the curtain and into the living room. The morning sunlight grazing your features harmoniously, leaving Frost a bit dazed by the sight. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?
He sat himself with a bit of effort but less than the day before "I was having good memories" he started a bit bland "and I guess I should thank you for that. It's been so long since I've been able to remember them" he continued with a light tremble in his voice, which he quickly cleared away.
"I'm so glad to hear that" you said still in your end of the living room "You should go wash yourself. I made breakfast. I figured you would wake up with better appetite today" you said fidgeting with a kitchen cloth in your hands. And now that you have mentioned it, Frost noticed the heavy emptiness in his stomach. He was very hungry this time.
"Yes, of course" he sat himself up rather quickly this time. He seemed like he would have a fast recovery. "I'll be back in a few minutes" he said as he got up and walked away. You couldn't help yourself but eye him as he walked away from you and into the hallway. The sunlight enhancing the bed-fur on his back, giving it a bit of a glow even if it was a bit dry given all the struggles he had been through. Something stirred inside you. You decided to push it aside for now and walk back into the kitchen to have everything ready.
Not that you were much of a servicial person, but you knew when someone needed help and had to be taken care of. After all, it's a small prize for the big currency of the universe forces.
It was as you were thinking this that Frost appeared through the kitchen curtain in his full clothing and a very, although clean, sleepy face. You couldn't help but feel a sort of joy.
"Did you sleep well?" you asked genuinely. Even if he looked clearly rested, you wanted to hear it from his mouth.
"Uh... Yes" he seemed to have that small linger in his voice, like taking care of each word he was going to say. You understood the reason behind already.
"Seems like it. You missed a spot" you teased playful, signaling near his left ear, where a patch of orange and black fur was standing; a bit of of a bed hair kind of thing.
To this, he seemed to get a bit uncomfortable, not for you, but clearly by his life-long habits. He eyed the living room quickly and saw a small rectangular mirror rested on top of a black iron mark. He walked to it and leaned down a bit, looking at himself in it. You noticed how big he looked in the house you had shaped to fit you perfectly. As he leaned over, you noticed how his, now noticeable, long tail stretched a bit behind him to help him balance; the tip swayed idly behind him. He looked quickly in the mirror, lifted his hand, and after a look of disapproval towards himself, he licked the back of him hand with a rough sound from his tongue; he took it to were you had pointed and tried to nudge the bed-fur down. One, two and the third was the charm; it seemed to stay were he wanted.
This scene stirred further the feeling from before, and it was close to gaining a name in your psyche. You sighed mentally. This powers of yours were great but the force that moved them was greater, sometimes the weight of the lessons learned were a great toll on your shoulders.
"I think I fixed it quite well" he said passing his ebony like claws thought that same patch of fur, just to make sure it would stay down; and it did.
"I don't think it needed fixing. It made you look very cute" you said automatically, but not regretting it at all. It was better out than in. After all, you did find him quite attractive despite his current presentation. His skin did seem to have untightened from his flesh after being well fed and hydrated the day before. He looked a bit less ill and starved. You found it amazing how fast a tabaxi body was able to recuperate; specially his, given he was a top notch martial artist from what little you saw in his memories. Something you looked forward to once he got better.
"I'm not... cute" he doubted a little, peeking at himself in the mirror during that small pause, as if looking for confirmation from himself. But when he looked back down at you and saw a small spark in your eyes, one similar but distant as the one on curiosity he had had the day before, he decided to stay quiet, just to see what would happen.
You gave him a small, genuine smile while looking straight into his eyes and past his corneas; deeper in the realms of the soul. There was no barrier standing in this path, it seemed like something the Order couldn't get rid of: that blazing fire of curiosity towards everything that crossed his sight and mind. And right now, in front of him in both ways, were you, looking up at him in a way that puzzled as well as pleased him.
"Breakfast is served in the kitchen" you pointed behind you, the somewhat sheer curtain showed the table with a variety of dishes on it. Something you had put yourself to work since earlier, given you knew he'd wake up with a much better appetite today. "Care to join?" you gestured opening the curtain, and the smell that plummeted towards Frost made his pupils blow wide open and his whiskers twitched slightly. He just nodded, a mix of a short vow, and followed you close behind into the kitchen.
He stood there awkwardly for a moment, you quickly understood that in order for him to sit, you'd had to sit first. Now that he was less famished and more lucid, his manners were stronger. Once you sat down and told him to sit; he did. And his eyes started darting around the table, looking at a few types of meat, a couple bowls of insects, a plate of stirred vegetables and a glass of milk.
He looked up at you for permission and once you nodded he vowed forward lightly, and held silence for a long minute; clearly giving his grace. You weren't once to interrupt other's rituals, so you let him set the pace. And we he opened his eyes he very delicately grabbed the pair of chopsticks first and a bowl of insects, which looked ridiculously small in his hand and started eating slowly, more in tune of his normal self, you sensed.
After a few bites he said "I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved at your table yesterday. I was severely hungry and couldn't help but loose my manners" as he then took a cooked bug in his mouth.
"You don't need to apologize for having basic living being needs" you looked up at him sternly through the rim of your cup, the sheer steam of your hot tea grazing your eyelashes. He gave you a hum and an acknowledging nod you were coming to familiarize yourself with; you found it delightful, life the toll of a tenor brass bell. Maybe something he had learned to imitate during his long meditating hours.
He kept himself busy eating the breakfast you had prepared, completely missing the fact that you weren't eating at all. He seemed to notice when he looked up from the piece of pork he was cutting. "This food is very delicious. I'm very grateful" he said calmly and lifted his gaze. "You are a good coo- Why are you not eating?" he stopped mid sentence to scold you on your life long habit.
"I'm not much of a breakfast person" you simply said giving him a light shrug.
"But breakfast is the most important meal of the day" he seemed fazed by this, as he placed the bowl with insects and chopsticks down and looked at you "How else will you obtain the energy to overcome the tasks of your day?" he asked gesturing at you. The way his shoulders moved as he slightly waved his hands in protest caused that stirring feeling inside you to grow bigger. Closer to being given a name.
"My nourishment comes from Above" you plainly said. But Frost seemed offended by this statement "Also the summer Solstice is getting closer" Frost raised an eyebrow and lightly scratched his beard "I fast around these events" you shortly explained. He seemed comforted by that answer, since he let out a small 'oh' and began eating again.
The rest of the meal went by rather quietly, other than the almost unaudible mewls he let out when he began eating the pieces of meat you had roughly cooked.
Those little mewls were driving you crazy, the way a favourite song would cause almost a stage of ecstasy. Each vibrant exhale that resonated deep in his chest driven by the intense hunger struck a chord in you, directing you along his music.
And this music made you sway from side to side as you closed your eyes, feeling moved by the notes and the shapes and forms of this newfound music to your ears. You felt cradled, in a sense. Lost and found in the echo of his sounds.
"Thank you for the food. It was delicious" he thanked you but you only heard the last sentence.
You lazily nodded and agreed "Yes, it was delicious" but you quickly opened your eyes and saw the puzzled look in those intense golden eyes.
He gestured at the table "You hadn't had a single bite" he reclaimed. But his protest was beyond the food. He was curious of what was this delicious sensation you were experiencing, that he was unaware of.
"Oh, don't worry. I was lost in thought, I guess" and as you said this, you couldn't help but shoot him an inviting look. An invitation into your world...
Notes:
Going through it...
I hope you like it!
Remember to drink some water and take a deep breath.
Love for everyone <3

faustwrites on Chapter 6 Thu 13 Nov 2025 01:50AM UTC
Comment Actions
MidnightFei_01 on Chapter 6 Thu 13 Nov 2025 03:29AM UTC
Comment Actions