Finding Them

        "Oh," Techno paused, "was I not supposed to do that?" he asked. Phil only laughed harder.

"No, you're good. He was an asshat, the reason we were given away in the first place, the cause of our mother's deaths, and why the kingdom's magic was stripped away. No one liked him and he did some pretty terrible things in his time," Phil paused, "just feel bad you had to do that at such a young age," Phil's gaze softened. Techno shrugged.

"It's fine, nothing we can do about it now, I suppose," he sighed. Phil nodded before lifting himself out of his seat, making his way over to take the boiling water off of the fire.

"So why were you covered in blood yesterday?" Tommy broke the silence.

"Oh yeah, he fucking killed a man. Twisted his head off and shit," Wilbur demonstrated, making a rough twisting motion with his hands. Tommy was in disbelief.

"No fucking way. He did not!" he argued. Phil and Wilbur chuckled slightly.

"Yes, he fucking did! It was gruesome, but kind of cool at the same time. No, you can't watch it happen, you're still a child," Wilbur added as Tommy's mouth opened to interject.

"I'm not a child, dickhead," Tommy spat, "I'm a big man," he declared.

"Okay, you two, knock it off," Phil reprimanded passing around the hot beverages. "Now that these stories are settled, I want to try something," he grabbed his satchel, placing it on the small table. Phil laid the four scrolls out side by side, in numerical order. "I haven't tried this yet, but I want to see if this will work." Phil placed. A hand on his scroll, watching as letters painted themselves across the bottom, running off the page. Phil motioned Wilbur over, guiding his hand to his own parchment. The letters continued. Techno and Tommy got the idea, following the actions of the other two. The words stopped halfway through the bottom of Tommy's scroll.

"A step closer," Phil started, "your quest will finish where the sun is aligned," he finished.

"Okay that's nice, I'm tired. Can we handle this tomorrow?" Wilbur asked, he wouldn't admit it; but all of this magic stuff was starting to make his head spin. What was that even supposed to mean? How did it even happen in the first place?

"You're no fun, you know that?" Tommy glared.

"Well at least I'm not a child," Wilbur shot back. Phil stood up silencing the two's bickering.

"Yeah, let's call it a night." He turned towards Tommy. "When you're back from the meet up with Tubbo I'm going to teach you how to preen your wings. It's been about a week since you've got them, and your feathers are most likely out of place by now," Phil informed him. Tommy nodded in agreement.

"Okay, I don't know what that is, but can we figure out more of the prophecy stuff tomorrow too?" he asked eagerly.

"Sure, but it's bedtime for now," Phil gave in, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to unlock the secrets of the scrolls.

"You two are nerds," Techno chimed in, watching the excitement light up their faces.

"No we're not!" a collective shout made its way from their mouths.

"Okay sure," he agreed. Wilbur scoffed getting their attention.

"I'm tired, can we please go to bed?" he whined.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on boys," Phil shooed them over, grabbing the empty cups. Wilbur and Techno made their way over slowly, Tommy on the other hand, decided to sprint and belly flop onto the bed.

"Tommy you little gremlin!" he shouted, "You messed up the covers!" The once very nicely made bed was now a pile of pillows and blankets, a child sat in the middle, snickering.

"Too bad I'm a minor, you can't kill me!" he said proudly, like he was invincible. Wilbur glared.

"No, I can't kill you; but I can make you sleep on the floor." He took heaps of blankets and just threw them off the other side of the bed.

"Wilbur, be nice," Phil said warningly. Wilbur turned around, his mouth moving like a fish out of water. He pointed to the bed and then to Tommy.
"Wha-? How is this my fault?" he sputtered.

"Wilbur," he repeated, holding out the word. The brunet threw his hands up, angrily ripping the bed pieces off of the floor before flopping onto the bed turned away from his brother; a scowl on his face. Tommy felt a tinge of guilt waft through his chest. If he was anyone else, he would go to bed sleep it off and everything would be fine the next day. But that wasn't the case. Instead, he curled up against the elder's back.

"Wilbur," he whispered once. No reply.

"Wilbur," he tried again. He knew Wilbur was ignoring him.

"Willllbuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrr," he whispered the final time, long and drawn out. The elder flipped around glaring at his brother.

"What do you want?!" he whisper-yelled. Tommy wrapped himself around him, he knew Wilbur couldn't resist his hugs; his brothers only weakness you could say.

"You're a bitch," Wilbur stated, but pulled the boy closer.

"At least I'm not you, asshole," he retorted.