centuries (wesper au)

Wylan

* Millions of years prior *

Wylan had gotten in another fight. Was it his fault? Partially. Was he going to admit it? Absolutely not.

He didn't know why he hated Jesper Fahey. It was strange, especially because his first look at the boy and he thought he had the most perfect lips. But Jesper was loud and crazy, two qualities Wylan disliked.

If only he knew that one day he would become similar. A thief, a wayward boy — son of a man who would no longer appreciate him.

But today, Jesper approached Wylan with a cocky and confident body expression, smirking down at him. It made Wylan's blood boil. Who did this boy think he was, another toy for him to just play with?!

"What do you want?" Wylan deadpanned, turning away from the taller.

"Aw, don't be such a Debbie Downer, love."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Debbie Downer or love?"

Wylan turned, losing his cool and slapping Jesper. "Both, just leave me alone!"

Wide eyed, Jesper shoved Wylan to the wall, and the fight then broke out. Cursing, fighting, shouting, etc. was heard throughout the halls, until a teacher came and pulled them away.

"Wylan Van Eck!" He flinched at the sound of his name. His father, the principal, pulled him off Jesper — yes, you read correctly. Wylan had been on top of Jesper. It was embarrassing. Jesper stood up, straightening his shirt. Wylan was lifted in the air, his father still gripping the back of his shirt, making Wylan feel helpless and close to a dog. Like, when the mother grabs the ruff of the dog, only more intense and less civilized.

"Sir." Jesper said, clearing his throat.

"You, follow me." Van Eck dragged Wylan, Jesper following closely, concern and confusion filling his eyes. Wylan eventually broke from his fathers murderous grip, walking besides him, looking down at the ground.

"Sit here." Van Eck demanded coldly, shoving the boys into a seat next to each other and slamming his office door.

"What the hell was that about?!" Jesper asked. "He just—"

"Shut up." Wylan looked away from him, tears daring to prick at his ears //a/n: this is why i need to proofread alicia's work more often. -leigh//. //MEANWHILE SHE CALLS ME ALICIA NOT ALIVIA- /j -liv// //she's a liar, i don't do that// He felt a hand on his shoulder, and Wylan tried, with no willpower, to push his hand away. However, Jesper kept a gentle yet firm grip. Comforting.

And, unwillingly, Wylan felt himself leaning into it. "What kind of witchcraft is this?" He frowned.

"It's called affection, love. Something I'm starting to doubt you get much of."

"My father resents me," Wylan replied. "Life kinda sucks."

Jesper frowned. "Maybe another life will be better."

"Yeah," Wylan looked up at his enemy—friend?—and sighed. "I hope."

Wylan never got another life. Well, technically he did, but an extended one would be better. A few years later, Wylan died from an explosion. A terrible day it was, for many. Jesper Fahey never moved on from his friend—and crushes—loss.

But Wylan's life didn't end. He kept living, somehow a God's bless on him. He turned from a soft, nervy mortal to a slightly cocky and incredibly smart immortal god of weaponry, who was also a pro and expert at building bombs. Also, he was the God of math and music, and creator of the flute. (yes he's THAT old/j).

He was one of the leaders of the "Crow Council" (the only thing below the merchant council, which was basically the most important and oldest God's of existence—including his dad in it), along with four others.

Matthias Helvar, God of convicts and wolves. Nina Zenik, Goddess of magic of all sorts, creator of waffles. Inej Ghafa, goddess of secrecy and anything super spy and undercover. And Kaz Brekker, leader of the five of them, God of crows and trickery, leader of the crow council.

However, there was one seat open for the crow council.

And Kaz was on the search for one more.