Contains mentions of character death

Magnus plodded forward, glaring at his clenched fist. The oak tree lingered in his vision till he turned with such force that dirt showered what had been left at the grave. The red stone torch sputtered, throwing dark shadows against the blades of grass it was surrounded by, then spat out shifting embers to flit to the ground.

Shaking his head, he willed himself to not show that that ember reminded him of Ellie. He knew that leaving redstone at a well-known engineer's grave was obvious, and probably appeared careless. A rash decision made by a heedless griefer. Because that's what he was, he told himself: heedless and rash. Ellie wouldn't have thought that though.

A tremor ran through him as Magnus felt what he had been covering ignite. Shockwave after shockwave of regret and

remorse caved the anger in on itself, as he knew it eventually would. Anger isn't a sufficient cover, no matter how long it had worked and will have to keep on working.

He fought against the pressure of the memories as he felt the ground blast against his knees as he knelt, giving up the facade momentarily. Retrospection pounded against him, weakening his tough shell with deafening blasts.

The visions prodded something in him to detonate, as Magnus saw them in flashes. Ellegaard has been working for hours with the same resolute line on her face. His frequent glances had revealed that she seemed not to move, just place and replace a few repeaters and sweep the redstone into neater lines. Her maroon lipstick had been coated with redstone dust, giving the appearance of the night sky with the red specks twinkling in bursts of activated light.

He had been there for maybe an hour because, what else was there to do? Gabriel had left for a fencing tournament, while Ivor had gone to a bookstore with an expansive collection in chemistry, meaning he will be gone all day. Soren, well... did anyone ever fully know what he was doing? But Magnus had no reason to leave, so he stayed and watched, oddly hypnotized, like watching a waterfall.

They were good friends, so silence wasn't expectant or awkward, and with Ellie in her concentration trance, no one was going to start conversation anytime soon. He stood up and sauntered over to the pantry, trying to convince himself it wasn't for attention. When he arrived a few seconds later and realized he wasn't actually hungry, convincing himself was suddenly harder.

He walked back holding nothing, hoping maybe that would spark conversation. He hadn't spoken to her in awhile, though he knows why. Who reaches out to the aggressive, short-fused weak link in the team? Not anyone with sense, which is something he knows from experience that Ellie has in spades.

Nearing her table, he noticed her muttering to herself quietly. He watched her lips form the words, not at all knowing what she was saying. Even if he could lip-read, he'd still not know what she was saying.

Suddenly, a jab shot pain down his leg as his hip collided with the corner of the table. The table jostled forward, shifting the sand-like redstone diagonally, then back. It was enough to get a reaction though.

He hesitantly met her admonishing gaze, then hastily returned the glare. With some people it felt natural, but with Ellie, it never had. It was expected though. He was the griefer, quick to anger and decisions.

He flashed a sneer, trying to make up for the moment of shock he had shown, as her aggravated glare changed. It wasn't a fluent movement however, it was like gears grinding against each other, rusted from overuse. Her eyes clanged into an almost mechanical patience, appearing calm and logical as she always looked nowadays.

Magnus watched as she raised the corners of her lips into a painfully detached smile, sending the dusting of redstone into waves of activated shine. He felt no relief, though; she never does get angry. Her restraint was always there: stoic, yet suffocating.

Ellegaard's fists tightened on the table edge as she resignedly closed her eyes. He saw struggle play across her mind as her eyebrows furrowed deeply. Magnus beat down the fear rising in him, knowing that it didn't mix well with a smirk, but felt the nerves breaking through.

Then her eyebrows raised, as if her head had been cleared. He anticipated the curt, "Magnus, please be more careful," with sinking dread. He hated seeing her like this, so separate from the person he first become friends with. He hated seeing the shell of a friend operating blindly.

Ellie's hands abruptly launched into the air, further disrupting her meticulously formed rows of redstone. "Do you do this on purpose, Magnus? Are you trying to make me like this-" She paused mid-admonishment, cocking her head.

Magnus didn't even know if he interpreted her action as a sudden revelation or anticipation for his impending response, but the waves of heated anger radiating from her met him like an icy tide. He almost felt as if, if he didn't hold it back, he could tear up. But, of course he wouldn't do that. He couldn't break this leer, he couldn't break his eye-contact, he couldn't break-

"I'm sorry."

A more strangled-sounding voice than he had expected apprehensively revealed itself, making Ellie pause. Her hands, still in the air from her previous motion, slowly lowered to the table. She opened her mouth a second to say something presumably, then let it melt into an expression of slack wonder.

They stood there, eyes creating an unstable connection between them. Neither moved or broke eye-contact. Magnus didn't know Ellegaard's reasoning for this fully, but the overwhelming serenity he felt and the need for understanding, and, if he was honest, attention, seemed to be shared between them.

A tear slipped out of Ellie's eye, stalling Magnus's thoughts. It left a shining trail as it travelled to her jawline, gathering as a drop. Her eyes didn't waver in the slightest, almost as if she hadn't noticed, but Magnus certainly had.

It cut through the convoluted strands and left the truth: she was lonely too. By walling her off, she hadn't had anyone else either, he realized with crushing clarity.

Magnus ventured forward till he was a few steps in front of Ellie. She stood, arms firmly at her sides, as he enveloped her in a hug. He felt her arms tense momentarily-which sent more fear through Magnus than he'd care to admit-then relax as she placed her chin on his shoulder. They remained like that a few moments till Magnus began to feel like he should let go. With a tinge of reluctance, he removed his grip.

As he placed a foot behind him to leave, Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck almost urgently, as if this was very important. Magnus tensed for a moment, then loosened, replacing his arms around her.

After a minute or so of thoughtless peace, he broke the silence.

"You ok, Ellie?" He felt a slight nod on his shoulder.

"Yeah," she exhaled, retracting her arms from his neck and stepping back. She met his eyes with a tired, yet relieved look.

"Thank you, Magnus."

"You too, Ellie."

And the moment passed. Magnus had returned to the couch. Ellegaard returned to her concentrated expression at her redstone workings.

"Not anymore," Magnus almost growled as the recall of reveries ceased. "It didn't stay that way, did it?" he said as if daring the sun to answer, voice becoming hysterical as it became louder. "Did it?"

Pushing himself off the ground, he allowed his tired mind to wander to the part of the memory he didn't think about much. How in his glances at her while she worked, she would smile instead of look stern when enthralled with a concept. How she would be more energetic, her toe tapping when thinking and leaping to her feet when she was brainstorming. How, best of all to Magnus, when she got a new idea, she would gasp out loud involuntarily, then turn to the others in the room blushing with embarrassment, but still with the twinkle left in her eyes, just like she used to. How after that moment they shared, her spark came back.

Magnus acknowledged the smile spreading across his face and didn't suppress it. He cast his eyes downward a second to gather his strength, then turned around. The redstone torch remained, but this time, it had changed. Magnus looked at it without anger, without vengeance, without, if he was honest, longing. He had lost Ellie, that can't change. He will miss Ellie, that won't change. Her spark though, the current that flowed through her tirelessly, still connected them both.

Yes, she would always be here.

Ellegaard's fist clamped shut even firmer as a serene morning breeze rustled the yellowed grass that gathered at the bottom of the oak tree. Even with her fist obstructing her view, since she was holding the bridge of her nose in a near vise to control her trembling features, Ellie saw the gust of wind play with the gunpowder she had left at the grave.

It was practical, she thought. Pragmatic and safe, not allowing much insight inwards. She closed her eyes softly at first, then gradually clenched them as she reminded herself she had to maintain that same image, even now. Her fingers tightened on the bridge of her nose to contain the distraught contortions of her face, especially her whimpering lower lip that bothered her so much. It was much too raw. Her coping methods did little to hide her quivering shoulders though.

The memories overtook her gradually, overriding her default circuitry and protective shields. The automated calm she had operated under up to this point failed as a sudden sob escaped Ellie's throat, disrupting the methodical rhythm she functioned in even more drastically.

Her defenses didn't fall all at once, but in layers. The fear of others seeing, the fear of letting others down, could be navigated through and brought down by the heart-wrenching pain she felt when she pictured her friend, currently residing in the grave beside her. The slow dread of letting herself down though only relented when the certain memory broke though. It flooded through, taking advantage of the cracks she had neglected to defend, as she lowered both herself and her guard to the ground, hugging her knees to her heart.

Ellegaard's sleeves were coated in redstone dust, having been in heavy thought for hours. The redstone machine she was trying to make had changed goals and designs nearly completely, as they always did when she didn't really have a plan. She swept the redstone into neater lines and adjusted the redstone repeaters just a tic, silently noting that Magnus, who was sprawled on the couch behind her, had been quiet for a while. While she was vaguely interested in what had him in such a peaceful state, she knew she had to complete this... Her hands froze in the air, contemplating it a second. This thing, Ellie decided to call it. She knew she wasn't particularly inspired for this project. Still, redstone was expected and she had already spent many days off. The other Order members nearly looked worried about her, which is a rare thing anymore.

Fabric rustled as Magnus got off the couch and strutted to the pantry in his usual pompous manner. Ellegaard sighed surreptitiously. He hadn't used to be so standoff-like all the time. He was never diplomatic either, but he hadn't looked for fresh conflict. Not often, anyways. She remembered, as she rather absentmindedly enforced a compact curve in the redstone, how he was always the first to notice when the teasing became too pointed and lingered afterwards, making certain things were smoothed over.

Now though, she began thinking, even though though the thought drifted out of word-form. Hazy images of the same leering arrogance with various backgrounds crept over her musings. The unprovoked nature of it was the most frustrating part.

She stopped herself. No, if she knew him, -a fact even she questioned lately- something must be the reason. The old adage that fame comes with a price intruded upon her pondering.

Ellie noticed his verdant armor he never seems to take off rounding the corner to return to the couch, presumably. She forcefully returned her gaze to her redstone contraption, mouthing her actions to herself, willing inspiration. She knew she was bound to fail with this much mental white noise, but she was not admitting defeat.

As Magnus neared the table, Ellegaard debated saying something. She hadn't spoken to him in a while, which used to be an almost hourly practice. Gritting her teeth, she decided against it. There's no use to risk another flare-up from him; that would only make inspiration more elusive. She reached out to adjust a repeater, completely on a whim-

A hollow thud sounded as the entire table jolted to the side. Maroon dust slid sideways, leaving perfect coated lines all over the table where it had previously been.

Ellegaard didn't show surprise. She was surprised, but not at the impact. Magnus had never so much as dared touch her redstone workings before, ever. It had always been a mutual understanding between them, even as the other Order members violated the terms.

Her shoulders tensed as her hands, gripping the edge of the table, began to turn pale. She furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes clamped shut so tightly that it was painful. It wasn't recognized over the pounding self-restraint pummeling her, closing her, stopping her.

Then she gave up. Her head cleared immediately as her fight died down. The roaring flame quieted to ashes as she personally suffocated her own spark. She noticed numbly the soreness in her fingers as she released the table from its bondage. Her eyes gently opened as she wiped her face of its precious scowl and stared at a glowering Magnus eye-to-eye.

But the smile. The stinging, merciless sneer that looked as if he was expecting a show was all she could see. The spark flared.

"Do you do this purposefully, Magnus?" Her hands flung into the air, creating further clutter on the table. "Are you trying to make me like this-"

Ellegaard hesitated. Was he? He wouldn't just do this for fun, would he? Everything analytical in her said yes, that the past events only pointed to one thing, but she hadn't always run solely on that. When she had become Magnus's friend, she hadn't. Perhaps analytically you couldn't see his teasing was always fueled by kindness, at least in the past, or the way he could always be depended on emotionally, even if he wasn't the most dependable for the more sundry things. Ellegaard wanted so badly for this not to be able to be answered analytically.

"I'm sorry," a voice that sounded on the verge of tears said. Ellie looked at the speaker to see a Magnus she hadn't seen since the Order became famous. He looked fragile as he peered at her, the cheesy smile that normally accompanied him in tough situations struggling to show itself and visibly losing. He looked alone. So very, very alone. It's hard to cry on your own shoulder. Ellie knew.

Her hands slowly lowered from their past outburst to her sides as she stood up from her chair, wordlessly. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but instead let the silence speak for itself as she allowed her jaw to go slack.

She expected Magnus to do something as he always did, ever the active component. Ellie continued gazing at him in near anticipation until she realized that this was only proving her suspicions: he didn't really want to hit first.

Ellegaard had to resist smiling and breaking the somber tone. This lack of fire from Magnus is something she missed. She stood, enjoying the comforting warmth she felt from not having to dodge the flames. Letting down her guard hadn't ever been easy, but now it seemed natural.

She felt a tear threaten to fall and had to actively stop herself from looking up to lure it back. She knew this concealing of emotions was what they had both been doing, despite their separate methods. Ellie felt the tear travel down her cheek as she began placing everything together, her mind firing like an overactive piston. Everything was going so fast, all while remorse for not realizing sooner beat under her heart-

Ellegaard felt arms tentatively surround her. Her arms tensed quickly, surprised she had been so lost in thought as to not notice Magnus approaching. He immediately stopped, waiting for approval. After relaxing, he completed the hug, leaving his arms around her. A deep breath from Ellegaard ruffled her hair as she placed her chin on his shoulder, heartbeat slowing.

After a moment, Magnus's body shifted as he placed a foot behind him, preparing to end the embrace. Ellie's hands, enfolded at her waist, tugged on her shirt as she held herself from a sigh. She didn't fully know why, but she hadn't felt known for possibly years, and she wasn't about to let that go so quickly.

As Magnus tilted away, Ellie squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around his neck. It was her turn to be tentative as she bit her lip when he stiffened from shock, all before leaning back and loosening, replacing his arms around her.

Ellegaard hoped this mindless, timeless peace was mutual. It flooded over her ever-performing mind, the second-thoughts, the suffocating worry of breaking other's precepts. It reminded her of the Order's past, before the world's eyes were ceaselessly watching, when this was how she felt like anytime she was with her friends. It replenished her with the security of having a companion to go to, the confidence she wasn't simply a hero illustrated by the masses, the reassurance that she wasn't alone.

"You ok, Ellie?"

"Yeah," she breathed, retracting her arms from Magnus's neck. They met each other's eyes.

"Thank you, Magnus."

"You too, Ellie."

Ellegaard returned to the present, the grass tickling her elbows and the morning sun turning to kaleidoscope specks in her tears. At the recognition of her tears, she buried her face into her knees, tucked up to her chin. Her arms constricted tighter around her knees as she relished the darkness and protection.

Her thoughts led her, almost against her will, to the section of memories she didn't commonly visit in her fresh grief. How he would apologize when he exploded things. How he would ask her what a particularly lengthy word she used meant with a grin to save his pride, as opposed to scowling and calling her a nerd. How he would admit fear and pain. Best of all to Ellegaard, how he quickly became known as the emotional support for the entire Order, but would always come to Ellie if he had to sort out his own feelings because she would always listen. How after that moment, his spark came back.

Ellegaard smiled at the sun as she unraveled her arms from around her knees and lifted her head. She could still hardly see past the droplets balancing on her eyelashes, but as she turned to the spindly grasses surrounding the grave, she saw the sun reflecting itself off of the lustrous gunpowder in intricate designs. She had expected another resurgence of tears, but strangely felt at peace. She had lost him, that can't change. She will miss Magnus, that won't change. His spark though, that volt that lived through him always, still connected them both.

Yes, he would always be here

I told myself my first published work wouldn't be angst. I told myself, but here I am anyways. Either way, this was really fun to write and, I hope, was fun to read too! In case you're wondering, not even I know if that was a romantic oneshot or not. I'm getting a platonic vibe from it, personally, but I'd love to know your thoughts towards it. Feel free to leave opinions and constructive criticism in the reviews, because I desperately need it.

Farewell, Fledglings!