Escape's Artist

part one ~ why is he still trying?

Philza trekked through the desert, nearly oblivious to the sweat beading on the back of his neck. He was in poor shape, his feathers were messy and some were missing from the days on end of fighting, and his eyes sunk back in his face like a haunted imitation of the proud warrior he once was. But a warrior wouldn't win in this world, an artist would.

 He'd played this same game with Technoblade a thousand times over, this time would be no different. He heard the hunter creep up behind him, rhythmic footsteps beating in time to the winged man's heart, and Philza spun around. They exchanged blows, Techno snarling a savage piglin growl while Philza lazily sidestepped his every attack. 

"Why the hells are you so- hard- to beat?!" Techno grunted, punctuating his words with vicious swipes of his axe. The taller man expended no energy at all parrying his blows, sidestepping each swing and shoving off the much heavier weapon with a simple dagger. And eventually, Philza made his fatal mistake.

Techno lunged, attacking Philza's tired wings with his glimmering axe. But something was different this time. As Philza swung his wing out of the way with an exhausted grunt, Techno viciously kicked at his shins. The Angel fell to the ground on his knees, an exact replay of his every battle against the pink-haired hunter, and Techno wasted no time shackling his wings and wrists. Philza sighed, a hopeless noise, as he stared at the man that was once his ally... maybe even more. 

"You're not getting away this time, old friend. I'm afraid there are many powerful people who aren't too pleased that you broke out of their most secure prison." With an almost mournful expression, Techno shook his head at his now chained-up enemy. He pulled on the manacles around Philza's wrists, silently urging him to just come with him without a struggle, and Philza obliged. He was far too exhausted after flying through the desert heat for days to put up much of a fight anyways.

"I almost feel bad for you, sometimes. This time, you're never getting out. They won't hurt you, no one would dare to leave a mark on the last Elytrian alive, but I suggest you enjoy the sun on our walk back." Techno rambled, talking at the avian hybrid instead of to him. Philza was used to this, hybrids were usually seen as more animal than human, and he smiled with impossibly wise eyes at the piglin hybrid. Technoblade was very unusual for a being of his biology, he'd managed to climb the ranks of human favor with nothing but his brute strength. It was saddening to the Elytrian how he'd so easily lost his companion to the shallow greeds of humanity. 

"How much are you to be paid for my capture?" Philza asked, keeping his eyes lowered instead of meeting Techno's eyes. The hunter snorted, staring at him for a moment in a sort of half-feigned disbelief that the avian would even ask. 

"Ownership of my own End portal, a splendid amount of diamonds, all the ender pearls and potatoes I could ever ask for. I'll be living like a king off your back." Techno grinned at mentioning potatoes. It sometimes astounded Philza how such a one-track-minded man could be so easily distracted by something as silly as potatoes. 

There was a tense pause as they walked through the desert together, Philza's chains now attached to a loop Technoblade held to ensure he wouldn't escape. He was, in fact, quite notorious for escaping.

"I am truly the last Elytrian?" Philza asked quietly. There had been rumors, of course, of an emaciated, abused Elytrian unearthed from a particularly cruel monarch's dungeons, but the young winged boy couldn't have been the only other... could he? Techno grunted in affirmation.

"After they found the boy dead, yeah. You're the last." Techno muttered sadly. Philza caught the subtle hint of emotion in the piglin's voice and knew he was thinking of the winged boy as well. His name had been Tommy, Philza had encountered him only a few times in both of their extraordinarily long lifetimes, but it still stung in a way Philza didn't know wounds could sting. It just hurt knowing that the much younger Elytrian boy was now dead. And not in a pleasant way, either, Philza didn't want to imagine the pain Tommy had been through in his last moments. He tried to force himself not to think about it, but his mind kept drifting back to his last interaction with the now-deceased Tommy.

Philza had been waiting at the highest bough of the great oak tree for hours. Tommy would have to show up soon, he knew it wouldn't be long until the eager hatchling could find his way here. Philza had given him very detailed directions, after all, how hard could it be to get lost all the way up here? 

Right on cue, Tommy landed harshly on the branch next to the older avian, panting heavily. His wings, still lined with the fluff of a not-yet-matured hatchling, were flopped behind him from the exertion of flying all the way up here. Oops. Philza kept forgetting how difficult it could be for kids like Tommy to fly, it had been so long since he was surrounded by others of his kind.

Tommy straightened up quickly, puffing up his chest and grinning widely, as he was usually doing at any given moment anyways, but this smile seemed more hopeful than usual.

"Ayup, Icarus! I think I've got the answer to the question this time! Ask me it!" Tommy addressed Philza by his adult name, as was customary for a child to address an adult that way. When a young Elytrian could answer The Angel's Question correctly, or more commonly just called "the question," they would officially be allowed to choose their adult name and recognized as an equal among the older of the avian beings. Elytrians could live for hundreds, even thousands of years, and each child had to go through the process of figuring out the answer to the question on their own. Some answered it at a young age, soaring at the front of a flock with the adult Elytrians at only 15 years old, and for some, they could live upwards of 60 years without ever knowing the answer.

Tommy was a more optimistic of that bunch, being only 16 years old when he officially decided he wanted to begin his quest to find the answer, and boy, was that kid determined when he put his mind to something. It was forbidden to share the answer with a child, of course, but Tommy had dedicated hours upon hours of his free time discussing with other hatchlings and researching the answer himself. This was the third time he'd come to Philza alone, claiming to know the answer, and he'd been incorrect every time. There was no limit on the number of times you could attempt to check your answer, but Tommy was pushing it. 

Still, Philza couldn't help but find comfort in the hatchling's repetitive visits. It brought something interesting to his life, at least.

"Alright then, what would your answer be?" Philza inquired, smiling gently at Tommy.

"Come on, old man, you have to actually ask me! Make it all realistic and stuff, even if-" Tommy trailed off. They both knew that the great civilizations of the Elytrians were slowly being hunted down, one by one, and he and the hatchling may very well be some of the last of the avian race alive. Still, the question was more ritualistic than anything, symbolic of a hatchling's transformation into adulthood even in this apocalyptic world.

"Alright, alright, fine. Jeez, kid, you act like I'm going senile already." Tommy snickered, and Philza couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.

"Thomas Simons, what is it that sets those with wings apart from those without?" Philza intoned deeply, the ceremony of the words sending shivers down Tommy's spine. He'd heard it so many times in that very tone, but Philza couldn't help but notice the awe it inspired in the hatchling every time.

"It- it's that those with wings can access the third dimension easily, while ground people can only live in their two dimensional world!" Tommy said, a bit hesitantly at first, but growing more enthusiastic as he went on. Philza shook his head, once, and the hatchling deflated.

"Oh well, I'll figure it out one of these days! Are you sure you can't give me just a little hint? Come on, I won't tell anyone..." Tommy joked, easily smiling over the flicker of disappointment Philza had noticed in his expressive face. They exchanged their goodbyes, told each other how to find one another if ever they were in danger, and Tommy once again flew off on his auburn wings. Philza hadn't known it would be the last time he saw the boy.

"Stop staring into space. The king wants to speak with you." Techno's gruff muttering shook Philza out of his musings. Without responding, he followed Techno up the regal steps, wincing as he put pressure on his sore legs, and all he could do was stare in shock at the man who sat before him.

"Hello again, Icarus."