"There are a lot of stories of mortals who stumbled their way into the Faewilde and fell in love with an enchanting faery that they met there. But there's one story of a faery who stumbled into this world and fell in love."
- Brennan Lee Mulligan, EXU: Calamity.
There was no magic in the universe more powerful than divination. And, there was no magic more fickle than divination.
It was said once an oracle spoke divination magic into prophecy it was immutable. Magic would ensure a prophecy's completion no matter the trials, no matter the cost.
There was no being capable of defying their destiny. Fate was a shackle forged without a key.
He was intimately familiar with the chains of a predetermined future. He was a creature spawned solely for the fulfillment of a destiny. His prophecy was branded into his existence. A forever ringing tone of his purpose, even now as his feet hit the ground of a world that was not his own it echoed in the periphery of his thoughts.
"Two opposing halves, joined in harmony,
Birth an oath of mortal fealty.
In this stalemate war,
drowned in loss and ruin.
A harbinger tips the scales.
Should our children come to arms
Great sacrifice prevails.
Age Old Power burns to ashes,
A New Age King emerges."
He stood in the tall grass of the field he landed in, taking in his first breaths of mortal air. It stung and bit his nearly-mortal lungs and it took all his training to suppress a coughing fit.
Everything felt different here. Worse. Like all his senses were muffled by pillows and his limbs were held down by weights.
He took a careful step forward. Legs unaccustomed to this new mortal-ish form he stumbled like a fawn, but it was easy enough to catch himself.
Here he would take his first steps to fulfilling what he was born into.
Todoroki Shouto was the Harbinger of death, and he was here to bring this ugly world to ruin.
The mortal plane was one Shouto was deeply familiar with… on an intellectual level. His upbringing was a strict one, purposeful, he'd read and studied tomes on tomes of mortal history and survival. He could name every edible plant in the vicinity, determine the time of day by the position of the sun, and season by the stars, name every current prominent mortal ruler and recognize their visage, and yet…
His feet were wet in his boots, his clothes muddied and damp, he was alone in a forest where no bird or insect dared get too close to him. He had all this knowledge, and yet he was being bested by terrain. The mortal realm was still an awful, terrible place.
He huffed a frustrated breath as his foot sunk into yet another hidden mud puddle.
The Faewilde housed ancient creatures, far older than most of the other neighboring realms, and laughably older than the imperfect clay dolls the gods liked to play with in the mortal realm.
And the Todoroki name was old, even within the Faewilde. There were very few families that predated them, and even less still around to tell their tales. The Todorokis were the only remaining family of Summer.
The current ruler of the Faewilde, King Endeavor, was also the head of the Todoroki family. It garnered them even more respect amongst the fae. The Todorokis were royalty.
All this to say: This entire world was beneath him.
Magic honored old tradition and ritual, gifting all the Todoroki family vast affinities for magic. So that made them powerful too.
All the Todoroki spawn were capable faeries, but even among the Todoroki family Shouto stood out.
Shouto was a creature of destiny, and the magic recognized that. A perfect fusion of two opposing fae houses, as foretold in the prophecy he was made for. He saw a world no one else saw, was more attuned to and trusted by the magic than any other creature in the Faewilde and possibly the universe.
Even with all his senses being smothered by a semi-mortal form it was easy to trace the magic that flowed and ebbed around him. He could see the magic, watch its intentions and the paths it carved out. Shouto could watch as the magic was drawn to him while he walked, swirling around his limbs like it was greeting him as an old friend.
He traced his palm over a cresting swell, watching as the magic hugged against his fingers before continuing on its way. Magic was an unobtrusive force, yet always present, always waiting, always ready to answer its call and serve its purpose.
Mortals took such reliability for granted.
His brief moment of respite was sapped away as he was reminded why he was here in the first place. Mortals tainted magic, did not respect its boundaries and rules and did whatever they pleased to it. Shouto would not allow such abuse to continue.
Unfortunately Shouto was still young, only a few years away from his first century, and the King was impatient. He'd sent Shouto to the mortal realm to harvest power, fast track his growth so that they could finish conquering the mortals swiftly and succinctly.
Mortals were generally useless beings, but they were plentiful in numbers and if a faerie wasn't born into power then they could harvest it through taking names. For each name taken a faery obtained the ability to channel more magic, and that was what Shouto was now being directed to do at the King's command.
Facing a whole new world by himself was a daunting task, but it was part of his destiny. Shouto chalked up most of his unease to the newness of this world and the odd sensations it brought with it. He was sure after he was given some time to adjust things would get better.
Sucking in a deep breath, nodding to himself that he was ok, he could do this, he was capable, Shouto pushed on along his path. He got a few steps further only to find himself hurtling to the ground, face connecting with grass and dirt as his foot caught on an upturned rock on the trail.
Things would get better… it would get better.
Shouto hated this place.
It was different from the Faewilde. Much worse, he decided with disdain. The magic was present, but muted. In the Faewilde the magic was able to interact with the fae without resistance. Here, it was like Shouto was wrapped head to toe in cloth, and while the magic was still present he could only feel its imprint as it pressed against him.
His form was far more different than he previously accounted for. Being nearly mortal was like being a condensed version of himself, far more material, far more constrained, present in a body that felt wrong.
Worse though, was the baggage that came with masquerading as mortal.
Before, Shouto had never understood why mortals were so satisfied by such short existences. A few hundred years if they were lucky, sometimes even less depending on the species, but he thought he was starting to understand.
These bodies were tedious. For the average mortal constant upkeep was required throughout the day. Their bodies were completely inefficient in their energy usage. A mortal body was required to be replenished multiple times a day through eating. Then, even with the constant replenishments the body still required resting for a large portion of a day's cycle. Some species had to dedicate up to a third of their day to this type of replenishment.
Shouto wouldn't want to live very long either with all the work it required.
Luckily he wasn't actually mortal, so Shouto didn't need to prescribe to the extremes of the mortal regime, but in this form he was still bound by their rules to some extent. Eating once every few days, sleeping for a few hours every week or so, excreting… expelling waste by sweating (awful) or going to the bathroom (even worse) was a new process he absolutely despised, but required, every few days.
The sweating had been especially heinous as it was currently the peak of summer. Even when he wasn't moving the air felt wet with humidity and everything was sticking to him.
Managing this body was a chore that had quickly become an unmanageable burden.
He blamed this new, inconvenient body for his current predicament.
Shouto was in an iron cage, shackled with iron cuffs, in the back of a horse drawn wagon. Iron, cold iron in particular, was the one material on this plane that posed a real threat to Fae-touched creatures such as himself. If cold iron touched him directly then his connection to magic was cut off. And too long of an exposure to cold iron would eventually kill him, though that could take weeks depending on his condition.
The shackles hissed on his skin like meat on a hot skillet, and had been since they'd been locked onto his wrists and ankles hours ago.
It hurt like the hells, but he wasn't going to let it show on his face in front of his captors.
They had caught him during one of the sleep cycles he was now required to take. Even after being on the mortal plane for almost a month he was still trying to get the hang of what tired felt like. Shouto was pretty sure his body collapsed on the road he'd been walking along. One moment he was walking, dirty and miserable and maybe a little sick, and the next thing he knew he'd woken up bound in a cage.
It was more of an annoyance than a true concern, Shouto thought, carefully hunched over in the cage to ensure no other parts of his skin made contact with the iron. He would just bide his time until there was an opportunity to escape.
They were no longer moving, the convoy veering off the road into what appeared to be an intentionally cleared out site for camping.
The mortals appeared to have stopped traveling for the night, a fire was going, the group chattering merrily with one another over warm meals they were forced to consume in order to sustain themselves. Once most of them were asleep he could begin executing an escape plan, whatever it may be.
Shouto closed his eyes, and waited.
He didn't open them again, didn't move from his position — forehead pressed against his knees that he had pulled up to his chest — until he heard a disturbance.
He'd been reciting lessons in his head to keep himself distracted from the never-ending heat of the shackles burning his wrists — little mnemonic devices for the components of different spells — when the snapping of underbrush alerted him to a presence. It wasn't some passing woodland creature either, it was purposeful, to draw attention.
When Shouto lifted his head, he was met with a desaturated world. His night-vision aiding in making out movement along the tree-line where the underbrush thickened. Shouto saw fur, possibly the tail of some sort of fairly large creature, but it disappeared quickly.
He held his breath, his skin prickling with anticipation of what might happen, he could taste it in the air that something great was about to occur. There was a staticy feeling, and the smell of ozone his brother — a gifted oracle — described to him once. How divination magic manifested just before prophecies were about to be fulfilled.
Shouto was not aware of any prophecies on the cusp of fulfillment, his were for destinies far off in his future, but it didn't need to be affecting his own fate to recognize the feeling. Whatever it was, it would be the perfect distraction he'd need for his escape.
He scanned the camp, two of his kidnappers were awake chatting quietly, while the rest slept around the fire. They apparently had not heard the snapping of the branch, or if they did they'd elected to ignore it.
Actually — Shouto tilted his head away from the chatter.
There was one other awake, hidden in the shadow of his cart. She appeared far more skilled than the other two awake, and she'd definitely heard the movement along the perimeter of the encampment. Whoever, or whatever, was going to be his fated distraction might get caught up by the woman, which would be extremely inconvenient for Shouto.
He jerked his head to the side the woman was hiding on, holding up three fingers from where his hand hung limply out in front of him in order to keep the chains from touching any other part of his body. If it was an intelligent being hopefully it would get the message.
It was less than ten seconds later Shouto heard the whistle of a loosed arrow fly close to him, as it whistled by the air crackled with divination magic.
He felt his lip quirk up in satisfaction of a message received. The arrow appeared to have found its mark, and he heard a soft sound of connection as it embedded somewhere followed by a choked gurgling. A much heavier thud told Shouto the woman had been disposed of by a fatal shot.
That was more than enough for him. Shouto carefully rocked onto the balls of his feet, balancing carefully as he maneuvered himself over the cold iron grid. To use magic he couldn't be touching any of the material, so he'd have to break the shackles first.
Carefully he placed his bare foot over the chain, an itching pain shot up his ankle as his skin immediately began to hiss and blister. He ignored that, instead opting to stomp down on the middle of the chain in the hopes the force would snap the bindings.
That did not work.
In fact, it didn't work in such a spectacular fashion the force of stomping the chain sent him head over heels, face colliding directly with the iron bars of the cage wall. It was a direct hit against the side of his face, it burned and throbbed terribly, and he knew he'd be feeling the bruise for the next couple of days.
Shouto reared back, hissing through clenched teeth. So Plan A was a bust, and there were no additional plans.
He thought this might be a good moment to start getting concerned about his well-being.
He steadied himself back in that perched position, trying to shake his head clear of the dull throbbing in his skull. Shouto needed to keep a level head, panic would only let this opportunity go to waste. He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath, when a very heavy thump rocked the cart.
When Shouto opened his eyes a very large sandy colored wolf was staring at him. He didn't react to its presence, his default reaction to anything unexpected being an unreadable stare, and the creature growled before tossing him something that it had been carrying.
A keyring.
The beast was looking at him expectantly and Shouto leaned forward, carefully weaving his arm through the bars, and plucked the keys off the cart floor. It sizzled and burned in his grip, definitely the key to a cold iron cage, and that appeared to satisfy the wolf. Shouto watched it leave as quickly as it came.
Odd.
Many beasts in the mortal realm didn't tend to display high levels of intelligence unless they were magical, and that didn't feel like a magic wolf. He wondered if the creature was an exception to the rule.
Regardless of the creature, Shouto wasn't going to take the assist for granted. He adjusted his grip on the keys, and after some minor struggling had the shackles clattering to the floor. It was quick work to get the cage door, and then he was free.
As he dropped the keyring his last connection to the cold iron severed and he could feel the magic, though mortally muted, swirl around him. The feeling was a relief, like embracing a friend, and Shouto allowed himself a moment of bliss in the return of the magic.
Shouto rolled his neck, poking tentatively at the blistering skin around his wrists and his expression darkened.
Freed from the shackles Shouto could feel cold contempt itching along the burns.
How dare they.
When Shouto rounded the cart it was more chaotic in the camp than it was a second ago.
The sleeping group seemed to have been awoken by a non-Shouto related disturbance and were scrambling. As he watched on unimpressed, the mortals attempted to gather themselves in a bustling cacophony of chaos. It would be easy to dispose of these creatures.
He noted a sandy tail disappear behind a cart, and he supposed he owed the creature a favor for aiding in his escape. So when he lifted his arm towards his captors, calling upon the languid magic surrounding them, Shouto took care to avoid the area where the wolf disappeared.
There was a brief second of stillness where time seemed to stop around him whenever Shouto cast a spell on this plane. Like his senses surged into an overdrive that was three steps ahead of the rest of the world. He'd describe it as tranquil, before the rush of time caught up with him and the magic answered his call.
And call Shouto did. In his time suspended stillness he watched as the magic shivered as he honed his intention. It sparkled and chilled in a beautiful torrent that leveraged his body as a conduit to transform into something marvelous.
The ice came on suddenly, racing over the ground and outwards using Shouto as a focal point to flash freezing everything in its way. It took only seconds for the clearing to change from the sticky warm humidity of summer to a biting chill only found during the height of winter.
When he was done a crystalline field of ice had replaced the lush green growth of the meadow. All the mortals within his radius seemed to have been successfully frozen in place.
Shouto's stance was casual. His arms loose at his sides with the cuff burns on clear display in the dirtied remains of the clothing they had left him in. From experience he knew his right eye was glowing white, iris and pupil disappeared while arcane energy channeled through him. The ice erupted again from his right foot, rippling as he stretched the radius of cold to its limits.
His mortal body was freezing over from the efforts, much to his annoyance, frost creept up his leg, his toes burned from the cold. As he released a steady exhale he could see his breath too.
This display of magic was not even half of what he could do in the Faewilde, yet this mortal body could not keep up.
Shouto supposed this was one of the reasons King Endeavor sent him to the Mortal Plane ahead of time. An adjustment period for his magic wielding.
He assessed the frozen mortals, looking for any sign of fight left in them, but most seemed to have been successfully subdued. It didn't seem like his ice had killed any of them, though there were some prone bodies completely encased from the attack. Arrows jammed in the corpses led him to believe they had been dead before he attacked.
This would be a good opportunity to collect some names. He was trying to build up power as quickly as possible, but first—
Shouto saw movement from the corner of his eye, one of the remaining mortals drawing a bow and aiming at him, the arrow loosing before he could let off another attack. It would be easy enough to block, but as he went to raise his right arm it didn't respond, frozen and numb at his side.
He quickly concluded that the attack would hit. All he could do was adjust his body to minimize the damage and avoid a fatal blow. As he turned, to his surprise he saw the wolf had charged out from the treeline. He didn't bother trying to block as the creature tackled him, allowing it to take him to the ground so he was pinned under the large animal's weight.
The arrow sailed harmlessly over their heads.
"Dyna — fuckin' no! Bad dog, bad wolf! We don't maim the people we save!" A deep and loud voice shouted from a distance away, then the wolf was being lifted off him.
Shouto sat up, significantly more covered in slobber than he'd previously been, but no injury otherwise. He looked over his shoulder at the shooter, they looked frightened that the attack missed, but it didn't look like there were any more projectiles within range for them to fire at him.
With no imminent threats present he turned back to the speaker. It was an adult male, hoisting the sandy wolf up with well-muscled arms wrapped around its chest. The beast didn't look upset at being manhandled in such a way, leading Shouto to believe they were a duo.
"Your beast was aiding me, please do not scold it too harshly," he said.
Pulling himself to his feet Shouto suppressed a wince when he placed his weight on his iron burnt foot. He brushed off some of the frost that had gathered on his pant leg with his left arm, and then looked up when the mortal didn't respond right away.
The man before him appeared young, but old enough to be completely independent for a mortal and likely human. His hair was bright blonde, almost an exact match to his wolf companion, held out of his face by a cord of leather acting as a headband. The skin of his face was tanned and marked, likely from working outside all day.
He was wearing a beaten up gray long sleeve shirt underneath a simple leather breast plate, and had a similarly styled leather belt around his midriff. There were bracers on both his forearms too, making it impossible to tell which was his bow arm for the impressive long bow attached to his back.
It was far more armor than necessary for the average hunter, this was a guy looking for, or at least expecting, a fight.
Shouto raised his gaze to meet the human man's eyes, watching as his expression went from mild annoyance to something much more aggressive.
Shouto felt the hair on his arms raise as he met that creature's eyes. The magic sang.
The mortal was giving him an intense glare, though any intimidation was soiled by the squirming wolf dog in his arms. The man's eyes were an intense shade of red, bright, and angry, and calculating as he assessed Shouto.
Shouto ran his tongue over his teeth, the magic swirled around this man in a heavy thickness Shouto could taste.
He was offended, this was a human of all things, but the magic was drawn to the mortal with an intensity that rivaled Shouto's own. He could feel an irritation stir at the sight of it. For the magic to be so… interested in a mortal, the very creature that sought only to abuse and taint it.
It seemed this creature was different from the mortals Shouto had encountered so far.
This one was stronger, more capable, and for some reason garnering the favor of magic. If Shouto could get his name there was no doubt he would be an asset in his quest for power.
Perhaps taking his name would answer the mysteries surrounding this creature. The thought had Shouto salivating.
"May I have your name?"
The man's expression pinched at the question, turning from a standoffish glare to very distinct distaste in the form of a sneer.
He took a moment to think over the question, and Shouto wondered if it was possible the creature forgot its own name. "Uh, fucking… Updog."
"Updog." He repeated, but he didn't feel the soothing balm of magic settle over his tongue as he took the name. That was not this mortal's true name.
The man was regarding him, nasty scowl still in place, a hint of anticipation in his squinted eyes.
"What's Updog?" Shouto asked, curiosity at something unknown outweighing any irritation over the man's… everything.
The mortal snorted.
"Busy working a job, now leave me the fuck alone."
What in the seven hells?
Shouto had never felt this lost in a conversation before. He'd been told by his tutors he was a little dense, a bit of a 'stone wall' when it came to social interaction, but he was positive this mortal's answer did not follow the flow of their conversation.
"Why didn't you give me your real name? What is Updog?"
The mortal laughed this time.
"All Might you're stupid, and you're even dumber if you think I'd give my name to a faerie."
Shouto nearly flinched at the mention of that specific god, the one the king held in the most disdain of all the deities lording over the Mortal Plane. All Might, most beloved and worshiped of all the mortal gods. So widely beloved not even the King of the Faeries could best him. All Might's entire existence was a blemish on the name of the Todoroki family. Their number one enemy.
All Might and mortals were creatures that believed they were owed everything. It was the reason Shouto was trained and fostered to become a powerful force to finally oppose the creatures that held no respect for magic and tradition.
While he grew his power Shouto was not to give away any indication he was of the Todoroki family. No inclinations that he was part of the war, no fire magic, nothing.
Shouto focused on all the other aspects of the mortal's words. Shouto could hear the eye roll in his tone, and without an answer from Shouto the man seemed to think the conversation was done. That wouldn't do though, Shouto hadn't gotten his name.
The mortal dropped his wolf, eyes scanning the newly renovated landscape of the clearing, looking for something. Shouto watched the shift in his stance to said he was about to leave.
Shouto reached out and snagged the man's arm, mobility returning to his left side, stopping any chance of escape. The mortal went to wrench his arm away, but Shouto doubled down on his efforts, icing them together.
When the mortal whipped his head back around, they were much closer than Shouto had previously accounted for. Their noses brushed, just barely, and the mortal jerked his head away, having to crane his neck to meet Shouto's eyes..
"What? What are you fucking doing? Why'd you glue us together? Stop staring at me like that!"
"How did you know I was of the Fae?" Shouto asked the only question he could think of. Something to keep the man longer, to give Shouto the chance to get his name.
Plus, supplementing missing knowledge would be worthwhile. He was certain his mortal body was a fairly good copy of a human like the man before him.
The man scoffed at him, the tight expression loosening a little bit. He took a moment, head tilting further back like he was sending a prayer to All Might, before he turned his attention back to Shouto. Bracing his free hand on his waist, the mortal's eyes scan up and down Shouto's body
"First of all, your eyes are a dead giveaway. Slit pupils on an otherwise normal looking human is a red flag, plus I saw your eyeshine off the campfire light earlier, humans don't have night vision."
Fascinating. Shouto reached up to press the skin under his right eye. There was nothing he could do about his eyes. The eyes were a window into the soul, they could not be altered regardless of the realm.
"Worse though," oh, there was more. "All you stupid fae bastards give off this nasty uncanny valley feeling. It's unsettling. Some of you are really good at covering it up, but it's always there, and you are fucking terrible at hiding it."
Shouto tilted his head as he processed the criticism. He was unsettling?
"I don't understand, please elaborate."
"Ugh, I don't fucking — Look, it's super obvious you're all just doing poor imitations of what you think humans act like, and it's kinda passable, but for anyone who's looking you clearly aren't. You're too still, like when you aren't speaking you could be a statue or some shit. This whole time you've been looking at me you've had this look in your eyes, hunger, like you're a predator biding its time. And you're too pretty. Looking at you is giving me hives."
"Too pretty?" He echoed.
Shouto found the information incredibly insightful. This man seemed well versed in dealing with the fae, which was surprising in itself, but Shouto had been taught that being attractive to mortals was an asset. Was this not the case?
"Really? Out of everything of fucking course that's the part you latch on too. Vain as fuck fae freak. Are you happy now? Ready to let me go?"
When Shouto turned his attention back to the man his face was an alarming shade of red. He appeared to be looking for a way out of the conversation, eyes darting around the clearing, and Shouto realized he hadn't gotten his name yet, and probably wouldn't be able to get it.
At least, not today.
Shouto shattered the icy hold easily, and with a flourish of his wrist, Shouto produced a small sphere of magic ice. It fit perfectly in the palm of his hand, impeccably clear with a barest hint of silvery streams of magic dancing inside it. Vapor swirled and cascaded down from the ice, but the item didn't diminish at all.
He held it out to the man, who only eyed the ice with suspicion.
"I think we already went over this, Frosty. I'm not taking any gifts from you. I know there's a catch."
"This is no gift. It is repayment for the debts that I owe you and your companion. Twice your wolf helped me, and you have provided me with useful information regarding my shortcomings I was not aware of. It would be remiss of me not to pay you back."
It was partially true. Technically, he had paid the wolf back once already by not freezing it in his attack, and there was still a favor owed, although the man and beast had not asked him for repayment. Shouto wanted to see this man again, to get his name, and he did not want to be unintentionally indebted to him either, so he was taking care of both problems at once.
"You feel indebted to Dyna? She's a wolf."
"Dyna," Shouto immediately said, but the name did not invoke the magic. "Any creature capable of intelligent thought may be owed a debt. Is Dyna her name?"
"Yeah, well, a nickname at least— All Might above were you seriously trying to take her fucking name?"
A nickname. Shouto ignored the question, and narrowed his eyes as he thought about his studies of mortals. Right, nicknames could be shortened versions of a name or completely unrelated to the true name. A troublesome tradition.
Perhaps Updog was a nickname of this mortal.
"What is it exactly?" Updog said, steering their conversation back to the repayment, clearly wary, but intrigue was winning out. The man appeared well versed enough in fae customs to understand their penchant for trading in favors and debts to believe Shouto.
"It is a summons. Should you find yourself in a situation and needing assistance, break this orb and I will come to your aid. No matter where I am. No matter what I am doing."
Shouto watched the man's eyebrows raise in surprise.
The gift was overkill, a summoning orb was a powerful item, infused with magic that had been channeled through the summoner and essentially contained a piece of Shouto in it. It was a gift that required a certain level of trust, these types of items could be used against him, weaken him, capture him, but hopefully it was a gamble that would allow Shouto to see Updog again.
Throughout their conversation, the pull of magic around the man had been distracting. The magic was fascinated by the mortal, inquisitive in the way it swirled around him.
Shouto wanted his name desperately.
Updog hesitated for a moment longer, but did take the orb.
"Fine. I've wasted enough time because of you," he said.
His bright red eyes were focusing on the carts beyond Shouto again. Something seemed to catch his eye, and as he pocketed Shouto's summons in his bag the man began to hurriedly make his way across the icy clearing.
Shouto watched him quietly, eyes tracing the very faint tendrils of magic that seemed to be drawn to Updog. His wolf was sniffing along the ground, glancing back at Shouto every few seconds curiously.
After about a dozen times Shouto raised a hand in greeting to it. The beast perked up, tongue lolling out of its mouth, and it left the man's side to greet him. A faint feeling rattled against his ribs, he'd never seen a creature so eager to approach him.
The attempt was short lived, when the man recognized what was happening; whatever he'd been searching for apparently found, he gave a sharp whistle. "Dyna, no! Leave the fae alone. C'mon girl."
The wolf stopped and turned immediately to his side. The man looked down at the beast and his expression softened a minuscule amount before he glared back at Shouto.
"See ya never."
And then Updog and the wolf turned the corner of the cart and disappeared from view.
It was a confusing ending to an equally as confusing interaction, the mortal said never, which implied the man had no intention of using the gift.
Shouto deflated slightly at the thought, but he'd already done what he could to ensure another chance at taking the man's true name.
He silently asked the fates to help him out. The magic hummed like a storm around him-
A sound caught his attention. The kidnappers remained frozen in the clearing.
Ah, that was right. He had names to collect.
Shouto felt a rush of excitement as his decidedly non-human eyes focused on the mortals that dared confine him.
It appeared the fates were looking favorably upon Shouto and his endeavors. It was only two days later Shouto felt the call of his summons as it broke.
He was at a riverbank, drinking, something he had to do even more often than eating, and tending to the various cold iron burns from his capture. He'd found his belongings from the kidnappers, and while he didn't carry much with him it was nice to have his clothing back.
A loose white shirt with a deep cut down the front and billowing sleeves, a pair of tight black pants that reached high up on his navel, and a pair of short-heeled black boots that stopped just below the knee. Far better than the rags he'd been in, and mortals seemed to like him in the clothes too. They seemed more willing to approach him when he looked good.
Shouto was soaking his wrists in the cool water when he felt the twinge of magic. The call of his summons.
Being summoned in the mortal world wasn't something Shouto had experienced before, but it was instincts and magic that drove him to follow. He didn't have the ability to teleport to distinct points in time, most fae didn't unless they were extremely powerful, but the mortal realm was littered with tiny pinprick tears to the Faewilde only discernible to those who knew how to look for them.
They acted as jumping points, needle holes left behind that folded the fabric of the mortal realm together so that places geographically far could be reached in an instant using the Faewilde as an express ride.
There were millions of these tears along the mortal realm, insignificant enough to never be noticed or ignored, but easily found when needed. For far jumps it could take several tries to get where he needed to go, but the summons acted like a thread weaving between all the tears.
As Shouto turned he caught sight of the connection just an arm's length away from him he reached out, letting the magic do the rest.
There wasn't a specific feeling to describe when traversing these tears. It was simply a creature was in one place and then in the next instant they were in another. Touching the tears led to a blinding flash of white that triggered an involuntarily blink, and then he was in a new place. With the summons even if he had needed to take several jumps to reach his destination the thread of connection would pull him all the way through to the other side without stopping.
Because it wasn't true teleportation the location he ended up was not precise, but it would be close enough that Shouto would be able to reach the point where the summons broke in seconds.
He was expecting a fight in the wilderness, but he ended up in a tavern.
He arrived with the steadfast thud of his boots planted on the solid surface of a table, ignoring the startled yells of its occupants. It smelled awful, like piss, and sweat, and blood, and mortal. He could barely hold his neutral expression as his lips threatened to curl in disgust.
The tavern was bustling with activity, loud and raucous, but it took only a moment to home in on the pull of the summons.
Updog was being grappled by a well muscled dwarf, struggling furiously in the hold while a green-haired half-elf seemed to be trying to scoop the shattered remains of his summons. Dyna didn't appear to be immediately in sight either. It wasn't the grand peril Shouto expected he would be summoned for, but a threat of this level was easy enough to take care of.
Shouto took a deep breath, the air in his immediate vicinity chilling, ice forming along the surface of the table causing even more commotion than his initial appearance. With a precision that he was proud of, Shouto shot a lance of ice at the assailant, piercing the man's shoulder and causing him to release Updog.
They made eye contact with each other across the room, and Shouto felt the magic surge again. It nearly vibrated around the man, as excited and interested in the mortal as the last time. Shouto gave the man a curt nod, refocusing on the other attackers, but as he turned Shouto was alarmed to see the entire tavern was focused on him, not fleeing.
The occupants all had weapons drawn for the most part, some seemed to be readying spells as well, and Shouto decided Updog may have been in real trouble after all. He adjusted his strategy, immediately calling for far more magic than he'd previously used in order to flash freeze the room. He was a moment away from loosing the spell when the loud, familiar voice of Updog stopped him before he could dispose of the enemies.
"Wait! Everyone fucking stop what you're doing! This is a misunderstanding."
The entire room froze, though not from Shouto's magic, instead the room turned its attention to Updog. He was standing on a table now too, arms held out like he was trying to cast a spell to hold the room. It was jarringly quiet.
Shouto dropped his spell, keeping his posture tensed in case of a sudden attack.
"You!" He pointed an accusing finger at Shouto, tone aggravated instead of grateful, "Don't go fucking attacking people for no reason."
Shouto narrowed his eyes, "You summoned me here. Upon my arrival you were being accosted by an enemy. You should show gratitude that I assisted you, Updog."
His words seemed to evoke a strong reaction amongst the patrons of the tavern. A swell of murmurs displaced the quiet before a woman's voice rose above the rest. Shouto located the source easily: a pink-skinned tiefling.
"Why do you call him that?"
"Oh, I'm aware this is not his true name. During our first encounter he refused to tell me his name," Shouto said, though he didn't owe any of these mortals anything, the last thing he wanted to be perceived as stupid.
Instead of praising him for his keen sense for 'nicknames' she turned her attention back to Updog.
"You used my up-dog bit on this guy? I thought you said it was stupid?" Another person in the tavern spoke up, Shouto spotted a shock of bright yellow fur decorated with black stripes blanketing the feline form of a tabaxi man.
Shouto zeroed in on the man, who seemed to be aware of 'Updog,' interest piqued, "What is Updog?"
Instead of an answer the tabaxi fell into a laughing fit, several others seemed to find the question humorous as well. Updog, or whoever he was since Updog didn't appear to be a nickname as Shouto originally deduced, let out an audible groan.
"All Might give me strength. We are not doing this again. You-" He jerked his hand at Shouto again, "Outside. We are not having a conversation yelling over all these extras."
Shouto watched the man hop down for the table and stomp towards the exit. He considered the merits of following. He didn't appreciate being commanded to do anything, but the tantalizing pull of the man's affinity to the magic was too much to resist.
He gracefully stepped down from the table, ignoring the annoyed muttering of the tavern goers as he weaved his way to the exit.
The man was leaning against the building, arms crossed, Dyna panting contently at his side. His hair wasn't being held back by the corded leather today and was in wild disarray that somehow looked put together. Without the armor it was easy to see the definition of his chest against the woven shirt he was wearing, as well as the pair of daggers sheathed on either hip.
"You're lucky that ice attack hit Shitty Hair of all people, way less disastrous than it could have been." The man said, tone condescending like he'd just performed some grand favor.
Shouto felt disbelief bubble in his gut at being reprimanded for his actions. The magic sizzled with his sour mood.
"I'm lucky? You're the one who summoned me to assist you. Why would you call me for a task not related to combat?" He asked, hoping the weight of his stare was boring holes into the man.
It seemed to have some effect, because the man flushed and immediately went on the defensive.
"I didn't— it was a fucking accident. My friends were hassling me about it and it got knocked out of my hand and shattered." The man said, and the statement took Shouto aback.
A summons was a precious and valuable magical item, a literal piece of Shouto himself and this mortal… dropped it. Shouto didn't have time to process the admission further because the man was already moving on.
"And yeah, you're lucky. You pop into one of the most renowned adventuring guilds on the planet and start firing off attacks, they would have killed you."
Shouto felt the irritation set in his teeth again. Such emotions were so unfamiliar to him, though this mortal seemed to have a penchant for bringing it out of him, and the annoyance ran hot in his veins., "I can handle myself. I would have been fine."
The man scoffed, brushing off the claim, "A lot of those extras couldn't hold their own against you for sure, but some of those guys are the real deal."
The warmth of the night was sapped away by Shouto's mood. The magic may seem to think this man something interesting, but all Shouto could see was a stupid mortal that didn't know its place. Shouto saw the man notice the change immediately.
The magic between them vibrated, excited almost.
"I am named into one of the oldest families in the Faewilde, I do not believe you understand the power you have taken for granted with the handling of my summons." He said, voice dipping into a posturing growl, but the man didn't so much as flinch.
It only seemed to bolster the mortal, the creature leaning into Shouto's space as he refused to yield.
"Your hoity Fae-whatever mean nothing around here. I'm not some weak-ass extra you can bully into submission. And I'm not alone either, one wrong move and you've got a hell of a lot of high ranking adventurers coming for your ass."
A growl rose above the tension between them as Dyna gave a warning of her presence.
The words hit at something within Shouto, regardless. There was a truth in that threat, Shouto was alone here.
Shouto was here to ensure the fulfillment of a prophecy alone. He was in an unfamiliar realm with no allies, and these were things he hadn't realized were troubling him until this mortal flaunted his own ties to a community.
King Endeavor had raised him in isolation, so he was used to it, but maybe somewhere inside himself Shouto wished the king had sent someone with him.
A rare feeling of uncertainty washed over him and Shouto backed off immediately. A wave of conflicting weakness that felt out of place washed over him as his mortal body heated up.
The mortal man was giving him an odd look, but Shouto was already trying to look for a way out of this interaction in the fae tears around them.
Of course none were currently within arm's reach.
"I believe that with the breaking of the summons our transaction is complete, all debts have been paid. I believe you said: 'see you never' at the end of our first encounter, but I'll make good on those words this time." Shouto said, and though the draw of this man's power was tempting, less tempting was the behavior it was drawing out of him trying to obtain it.
"Wait!" The man reached out, grabbing Shouto's arm as he began to turn away. "I don't think it really counts as a debt paid if nothing you did benefited me. You owe me."
Shouto narrowed his eyes. The audacity of this mortal not to accept his payment, "I have upheld my end of our transaction. If you are unsatisfied with the results, that is not my problem."
He moved to turn away, but the man's grip on his arm tightened.
Shouto could attack, but the vulnerability of isolation and the threat of an unknown number of enemies stopped him.
"Can I have another one of those summoning things, as a gift this time?"
That gave Shouto pause. When his eyes went back to the mortal, the magic seemed to brighten with that temptation, pulling him away from his common sense, telling him not to let this opportunity pass by.
Also, it was a bold move. Utterly unexpected, intriguing in a way Shouto was unaware mortals were capable of being. The mortal before him seemed to have a fair amount of insight into the laws of the fae, yet still asked so brazenly to be put into debt.
The magic fluttered between them with tantalizing interest.
"You're asking me for something, are you sure it's wise to become willingly indebted to a faerie?" Shouto allowed himself to ask.
"Shut up, I know what I'm doing, I can handle myself! I'll resolve the debt now," he said, bleeding confidence. When he watched Shouto's interest hold the man seemed to falter a bit, "What do you want for it?"
"Your name." Shouto replied without hesitation.
"No."
"Your wolf's name."
"You already know it."
"Her full name."
"Absolutely not."
"Then… a nickname for you."
He wasn't sure why he offered that as payment. The deal would be widely unbalanced in favor of the mortal, but Shouto found he wanted something more personal to call this man. Shouto wanted to address him with something that meant more to him even if it wouldn't benefit Shouto.
"Kacchan, is everything ok? You're taking a while, so I wanted to check up on you to make sure you're ok. Not that you can't handle yourself, but that was a pretty weird situation, and you know, better safe than sorry in these situations."
A green-haired half-elf Shouto recognized from inside the tavern was descending on their conversation, and Shouto watched in fascination as the man — Kacchan — stiffened and flushed a bright shade despite not exerting himself.
"Deku, you fucking moron, stop calling me that!" He snapped back at his friend. Shouto brightened at that, eyes flashing for a moment as he tilted his head to the side.
"Deku." He echoed, but no connection formed and he felt irritation itch in the tightening of his throat.
Damn these mortals and their affinity for nicknames.
"Not today you sneaky fae bastard," The man said, a little too smug for Shouto's liking. Shouto turned his attention back to the man, holding his hand out and materializing another icy summoning trinket.
"Consider Deku's interruption as a price paid. Please use this orb to summon me should you need my assistance." He paused, considering, keeping his expression flat, "Kacchan."
The ensuing rage from that was, dare he say, hilarious. The half elf was ducking for cover, but Shouto watched as calmly as he could while Kacchan switched between yelling obscenities at both of them, all the while carefully cradling the summons as not to accidentally crush it.
"Deku, it was a pleasure to meet you." He said, giving a polite and shallow bow. He turned to the other mortal and made sure to settle his expression just shy of smug.
"Please be more careful with this one, Kacchan. There will not be a third chance."
Shouto took a few steps back, aware of a fae tear close to his left. He reached out to touch the floating portal and then was gone from the tavern.
Shouto ended up in the outskirts of some far away village, heart thrumming, a smile unable to be removed as he replayed the incredulous look on the mortal's face when he called him by the nickname.
He placed a steadying hand over his chest, each thud of his heart sent shivers tickling along his spine.
Was this a side effect of being mortal too?
Since meeting Kacchan he was feeling his emotions, intensely, more pronounced and exhilarating than he'd ever felt in the Faewilde. Already the rush of amusement was fading though, the potency diluting until it almost didn't feel like the experience had been real at all.
It was several months before Shouto felt the pull of the summons again.
He'd taken to heart the criticisms of his demeanor Kacchan pointed out, and it had helped in establishing better connections with mortals. He'd also realized that fulfilling the doomsday destiny he'd been entrusted would require allies.
Kacchan had his friends, but Shouto was determined to have an army.
Shouto had managed to contract himself to exactly one mortal. A man named Yoarashi Inasa, who had found the name Todoroki in an ancient fae text hidden in the mortal world and attempted a ritual summoning to bind one of his family in service. Being the only Todoroki-named faerie on the mortal plane Shouto answered the summoning.
"Todoroki Enji." Yoarashi had declared confidently when Shouto appeared, and he had felt his own lips curl back in what he knew would not be a pleasant smile.
When he arrived in the dingy catacombs of some long forgotten dungeon, he could almost taste the magical potential in the martial fighter before him, though it was nothing compared to Kacchan. It was clear the man was currently no magician, and the weak runes meant to trap Shouto were easily broken.
"Not quite," he'd replied back, words sweet with poison, but instead of taking the man's name he offered a bargain.
A pact.
At the end of the day Yoarashi Inasa had kept his life and his will, and Shouto had earned himself his first warlock.
Shouto was not an arch fae, and as much innate ability as he knew he had, being the patron of a mortal was more of a burden than he anticipated. Their pact allowed Inasa a certain amount of Shouto's access to magic a day, which wasn't a huge deal, but an arch fae would give a mortal a fraction of a fraction of access to their power. Being so young, Shouto was giving Inasa access to nearly a quarter of his power, it was the only way the pact would have been beneficial for what Shouto wanted Inasa to do for him.
Every time Inasa called on Shouto for his magic it ripped through his body. The heated burn of his relatively unused fire magic raced through him in a gushing torrent. It resulted in dizzy spells, nausea, and once it had knocked him out.
The strain was a minor, temporary hiccup. As Inasa proselytized him, using only the name 'Shoto' per their agreement, he would gain more attention, more names. The power from that would begin to alleviate the burden, so he had to put up with it for now.
Shouto was currently on the outskirts of a remote village, determining if it would be worth interacting with mortals to get a hot meal instead of foraging to satiate his body's need for food, when he felt it. The tug and irresistible command of his summons.
He pursed his lips, a little disappointed he wasn't going to get a hot meal, then immediately shook himself of the thought. What kind of mortal food he ate didn't matter, so long as it kept his body functional.
His eyes were drawn to a space just beyond the perimeter of the tree line and he followed the pull dutifully to where the tear was that would take him to his summoning.
The location he arrived in was much more appropriate for a summons. He spotted Kacchan immediately, looking worse for wear and a little scorched as he drew his bow back loosing one, then two, then three arrows in quick succession.
The red-haired dwarf, Shitty Hair, he'd mistakenly attacked in the tavern was next to him in full plate armor speaking frantically, looking pretty beat up as well.
Deku was there too, decked out in only some flimsy looking robes, fighting head to head with only his feet and fists against… Shouto felt himself sigh — a cluster of oreads. A type of fae creature closely associated with the summer families. There were three of them, and it looked like they were causing trouble, likely attempting to set ablaze a field of crops or something of the like.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, of all the things Kacchan could have summoned him to fight; it had to be creatures of the fae. At least the oreads were numerous, and not part of any named families.
Shouto had popped into the battle a few paces behind the Kacchan and Shitty Hair, though the chaos of the fight had already dissipated the remnants of the summons. He walked up beside Kacchan, shielding him against an errant shot of fire with his ice.
"How may I be of service, Kacchan?" He asked, watching both men turn to him in surprise as the ice went up.
"Goddamn Frosty, took ya long enough." He said, peaking around the ice barrier to shoot another arrow.
When he turned back to Shouto, Kacchan already had another arrow out, igniting a hardy looking fuse at the tip before shooting it at the oreads. There was a resolute boom a moment later had Shouto guessing there was some sort of explosive device attached to the arrow. "Also, don't fucking call me Kacchan!"
"Fire and explosions won't do any damage against oreads." Shouto said, and Kacchan turned to scowl at him as if the combat advice was offensive. "If you don't want me to call you Kacchan, please tell me your preferred name."
"King Explosion Murder." Another arrow fired off, Shitty Hair followed suit with a spell that fired off blinding holy light from his palm.
"King Explosion Murder," Shouto tasted the name, but nothing came of it. Shouto felt that familiar agitation, if Kacchan wouldn't give him what he wanted he would not be using his preferred nickname either.
Kacchan looked like he was about to retort, but a nasty looking bolt of fire shot between them, impacting against the Shitty Hair. The dwarf didn't seem nearly upset though, taking the hit in stride, not missing a beat as he started wrapping a nasty looking burn wound that had slipped through his armor at the elbow joint.
"Kacchan, bro, love you, but maybe save the chit chat for after the fight?""
Kacchan didn't say anything, but he turned and shot a regular arrow. His movements were so fluid, completely efficient as he nocked arrows and bent around the cover Shouto had provided.
Though as Kacchan ducked behind the ice barrier, a second later it was shattered by a well placed bolt of fire.
"Why are you just standing there, is your brain freezer burnt or some shit?"
Another small ball of fire was lobbed in their direction, but it didn't come close to any of them. When Shouto looked over to the fighting occurring around twenty paces away Deku seemed to be handling himself surprisingly well for someone fighting with only their fists.
"The last time I attacked your perceived enemies you yelled at me. Please be direct and clear with your instructions, Kacchan"
There was something alarmingly funny about the way Kacchan went through the motion of loosing another arrow at the oreads while simultaneously projecting that he wished Shouto was on the receiving end of his attack. Shouto found he couldn't keep down the upturned corner of his mouth.
"Ice-For-Brains," he said, most likely addressing Shouto.
"Yes?"
"Stop being a smartass and attack the oreads."
Another arrow fired without missing a beat.
"Right away," and Shouto could hear the smile in his own voice.
The magic twinkled along the space between them with the humor he felt. It was too easy to rile this mortal up.
He turned away from Kacchan and focused ahead on the oreads. They seemed to be having a good time toying with Deku, though all three were starting to show wear from the battle. Two of them were littered with arrows, and if he looked closely there were definitely some imprints in the shape of Shitty Hair's war hammer on the third.
Kacchan shot another arrow and Shouto followed suit with a lance of ice that skewered the one that looked like it had already taken the most amount of damage. Piercing all the way through and out the otherside with a dramatic splash of carnage. The oread crumpled with the ice spearing through its abdomen.
Deku spared a moment to look over his shoulder, a wobbly and grateful smile shot towards him, before he ducked under the swiping claw of one of the two remaining oreads and used its momentum to throw it over his shoulder, slamming it into the ground behind him. He was looking pretty beat up, being the sole target of the oread cluster had been taking its toll.
Shitty Hair was beside Kacchan using some sort of healing magic on his wounds, and Kacchan was firing more arrows at the other oread. Shouto turned to the prone oread, encasing it in ice to keep it from standing back up. As he turned to ready his next spell, Shouto felt the shudder of overexertion as he huffed an icy cloud.
When was the last time he ate? Or worse, when was the last time he slept?
The final oread was ignoring Deku, holding its hands out straight towards Kacchan. The creature was littered with his arrows, and was likely getting sick of the damage they were causing. Shouto recognized the movement it was taking as it prepared to cast a stronger fire spell than the little bolts of flames the other oreads had been shooting out. Shitty Hair hadn't finished the healing magic yet, and if the oread landed the attack it could cause some serious harm.
Shouto was pushing the limits of his magic, but his next action was an easily made decision.
Shouto raised his right hand in reaction to the oread's movement, palm parallel with the ground and fingers outstretched to start, he curled his hand and fingers in a swift movement like he was snagging the threads of magic out of the air and pulling it close to his chest. He watched frost coat the oread's fingers, eating away the spell as he successfully countered it. He exhaled in a relief that was followed immediately by a shiver of exhaustion.
Countering magic was a difficult skill to learn, it had taken him several years to get it right, and he'd never used it in a real battle before.
The relief was short lived as the oread turned to him, and he saw the collar around its throat. The crest of the Todoroki family. He saw the creature's expression alight with recognition immediately, and was frantic to get ahead of whatever it may say next.
"What is a servant of the Todoroki's doing here?" He said in Sylvan, the language of the fae.
Shouto's eyes darted between the three mortals, and although his voice gained curious looks none of them reacted with understanding to the words. It likely sounded like the nonsensical crooning of birds to them if they didn't speak the language. It alleviated a previously unnoticed tension in his shoulders.
"The youngest Todoroki spawn? We are here on orders of Dabi. He requested we exterminate some pests." It said back in Sylvan.
Dabi, the oldest spawn King Endeavor created with the Matron of the Old Winter house. What was his older brother doing messing around in the mortal world?
Deku aimed a kick at the creature that connected, and even though the creature was battered it didn't react, focused only on Shouto. It didn't flinch at the arrow that sunk into its shoulder either.
Shouto knew what he had to do next. He was not a Todoroki here, they could not have this interaction bring suspicion among these mortals. Any untoward attention would mean Shouto would have to dispose of them, and the very thought sent something awful twisting within his muscles.
"On orders of King Endeavor. I require you lay down your life." He replied, and the continued conversation was starting to really pull the attention of the three mortals.
The creature was unfazed by the request, "The oreads honor the old families, it is a blessing to serve a Todoroki with my life. It is given willingly young Todoroki."
Shouto didn't hesitate in shooting the icy projectile towards the fae creature. This was must he what do, right?
This was the natural order of things, this oread was insignificant in the grand plan of the universe. And yet, something odd twinged in the back of his mind as he watched the creature crumple to the ground.
Once again, in the presence of Kacchan, Shouto found himself grappling with that unpleasant uncertainty.
"Whoa dude, what was that thing you did at the end, were those words?"
Shitty Hair was suddenly in front of him, a little banged up, but far more energetic than when Shouto first arrived.
Shouto blinked away the troubling thoughts, this was no time to be unfocused.
"I was speaking Sylvan, the language of the Faewilde," he said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kacchan frown so he added, "I was attempting to get it to stand down."
Kacchan didn't seem to believe his words, judging by the way his expression soured, but Deku crashed into the conversation before he could say anything.
"That was amazing magic you did at the end! You stopped the oread's spell dead, not many in our adventuring class are capable of that yet! So cool!" Deku was up in his face, nearly salivating in his excitement.
"What was so amazing about the glorified ice arrow the frosty bastard shot at the end?" Kacchan asked, distracted from the previous topic.
Deku was eager to correct Kacchan on what he was referring to, and then started explaining the complexities of the high level of skill required to counter another mage's spell.
If Shouto preened a little bit over the praise then so be it. Kacchan only regarded him with disdain.
"I didn't think you could do that," Kacchan said, which maybe was supposed to be a compliment. "Why use such strong magic here?"
"I told you the last time I was powerful, and if I did not counter the magic the oread would have hit you with a strong fire spell. You were not healed yet and the damage taken if the spell hit could have been devastating."
Kacchan didn't reply to his explanation, though his eyes had continuously narrowed until he was glaring at Shouto like he'd done something wrong again. It appeared Kacchan was incapable of ever being grateful.
His attention was torn away from Kacchan with a change in the atmosphere. Shouto felt the hair begin to raise along the left side of his body, a prickly warning and regrettably familiar sensation. At the same time he saw the icy prison he'd encased the final oread in splinter then fall apart as the creature broke out of its confines.
On instinct he summoned his ice magic to attack the oread, but at the same time the pull of the pact with Inasa channeled a huge torrent of magical energy through him. The opposing forces ricocheted within him, and Shouto doubled over in pain. The swell of ice magic he summoned misfired as a jagged wall of spikes to his right, nearly impaling Shitty Hair.
There was a round of startled exclamations from the mortals, and Shouto tried to alert them of the oread, but all that came out was a bubbling black ichor from his mouth.
Only Kacchan seemed to get the message, turning and nocking an arrow, drawing his bow and firing, blindly. The only guide had been Shouto's gaze over his shoulder, yet he hit the creature dead on, and before that arrow hit its mark he had another one on the bow and loosed.
If Shouto didn't feel like he was being torn apart he might have been impressed by the actions of the mortal.
But he was funneling all his concentration into suppressing any hint of fire magic from escaping as the magic Inasa called channeled through him. He was not to give any indication to mortals that he was of the Todoroki family, fire magic would give them an insight into his heritage.
Only Inasa knew his true identity, an exception only because his name was forfeit to the pact. So he gasped around the nauseating pain as more black bile gurgled in his mouth, waiting for the sensation to subside.
It did pass, as it always did, only this time as he flopped over onto his side, chest heaving, there were three sets of mortal eyes staring down at him.
Shouto stared up at them, expression empty, though he couldn't stop the heaving of his chest. Duke and Shitty Hair looked concerned, at least, while Kacchan only glared down at him.
"So you gonna explain what that was all about?"
Right, they required an explanation. Not that Shouto owed anything to these mortals, he didn't need to explain himself, but if he didn't it wouldn't build the bonds of trust he was attempting to establish.
And he wanted Kacchan's true name.
So he told the truth, or, at least, part of it.
"Corruption. A punishment for trying to take more than the magic was willing to give me. Normally this wouldn't happen, but I miscalculated, likely from exhaustion."
He held up his right arm, examining the thin layer of ice that had formed around his hand and moved up his wrist. As he bent his fingers the thin layer cracked and started falling away.
Corruption was actually a devastatingly serious condition, Shouto was concerned. If a faerie continued to tip the scales and upset the careful balance of magic the corruption would begin to erode away at their very being. Turn them into something… else.
Shouto shoved his worry down, these mortals didn't need any further insight into his weaknesses.
"I have only been walking the mortal realm for a few months, I haven't got the hang of taking care of this body yet. I was about to replenish myself when you summoned me, and I think I may be tired? It is difficult to parse all of the different signals."
All three of them looked surprised, but only Kacchan looked at him with an incredulous disbelief that clearly telegraphed he thought Shouto was the most brain-dead being in all the realms.
"Are you a fucking infant? When's the last time you ate?" Kacchan asked.
"About three days ago."
"And slept?"
"Ten days, maybe?"
"Ten days— are you serious?" Deku cut in, though instead of the palpable contempt Kacchan's tone carried, he was intrigued.
Shouto nodded, "I do not require the constant replenishment that mortals must subject themselves to. Sleeping and eating are indulgences in the Faewilde, but no required. I've had a hard time adjusting."
Deku's eyes were alight with fascination, but before he could ask more questions Kacchan was cutting him off.
"You're clearly even dumber than you look."
"Excuse me?"
"Obviously you do need the 'constant replenishment' or whatever the fuck you were saying about eating and sleeping because if you don't then this shit will happen again. I bet that's how you got caught by those poachers too."
Shouto didn't respond.
"All Might — really?"
"It is tedious having to perform this upkeep constantly."
"Tedious. Are you gnawing on fucking leaves and dirt? Eating is one of the best parts of being alive!" Kacchan said, or rather declared, vehement in his intensity.
Shouto considered the question. He had eaten foliage before to get the job done.
"Fucking hells, he has." Kacchan threw his hands up in the air, looking like he was about to explode, "That's it, I'm making you a meal!"
Shouto didn't get a chance to respond as the mortal turned, stomping away and muttering words like 'tedious' and 'eating' and 'idiot fae moron.'
"Kacchan is cooking?! Right now!?" Deku said, he seemed excited.
Shitty Hair cheered beside him, "This is awesome, it's been forever since I've eaten something you cooked!"
Then all three of them were moving, and Shouto felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him despite not having moved from the ground.
He didn't have a lot of experience with mortals, but these ones were overwhelming. As he sat up Shouto considered just leaving. Kacchan spent nearly every breath he took insulting him, whether with his words or body language, and it stirred that unfamiliar annoyance in him to be talked down to by creatures so below him.
But, watching as the man stormed off he couldn't tear his gaze away as the magic seemed drawn to the mortal. The lazy flowing tendrils were sucked in by his presence, twirling around his body desperate for his attention making him nearly glow. Like his entire existence demanded the attention of Shouto and everything around him.
The potential for power that mortal held was too tempting to abandon.
Shouto didn't understand how the mortal was able to ignore it, how he didn't feel a pull to the arcane to embrace what so clearly wanted his attention. The entire fight the man hadn't used a signal spell, only his bow and the small explosive devices.
It made Shouto curious, this mortal was becoming a mystery he desperately wanted to solve.
He sat up, though his mortal body screamed in protest at the movement, and made his way to a fire that had been set up by the group, and saw Dyna laying wrapped around Deku having returned from wherever she'd been hidden during the fighting.
As he sat the wolf dog abandoned Deku to throw her weight at him instead. He didn't react, but the warmth of her body heat was a comfort he hadn't felt since coming to this wretched place so he didn't move her. Maybe, he even leaned into the contact a little bit. Her tail thumped happily beside them.
Shouto watched quietly as Kacchan went through the motions of making some sort of soup or stew. He appeared to be carrying with him a kit of supplies made specifically for preparing meals and a variety of small vials containing an array of dried herbs.
Sitting without a specific goal driving him left Shouto to feel the full force of the after effects from not eating and sleeping for so long. The exhaustion felt even more pronounced after overexerting himself, the corruption's lingering effects leaving a chill within him that was not dissipating despite the comforting presence and warmth of Dyna.
Shitty Hair and Deku chatted quietly to each other, occasionally attempting to loop Shouto into what they were talking about, but he ignored them in favor of watching Kacchan. The whole time the man didn't look up or attempt to make conversation with Shouto, focused single-mindedly on prepping the food so intensely his ears and cheeks flushed with exertion.
"Here, eat."
Kacchan was shoving a bowl of something in Shouto's face, he had been so caught up in his own thoughts he hadn't realized the mortal completed his task.
"It's gonna be the best damn meal you've ever had."
A bold claim he doubted would be true.
Shouto took the bowl carefully, blinking slowly as the steam of the hot dish rose up into his face. It didn't smell terrible at least, and when he chanced an unsure glance at the others they were already eating, so at least he could rest assured the food wasn't poisoned.
His eyes flicked back to Kacchan, the man was watching him, his own bowl untouched. Shouto turned his attention back down to the steaming brown mush, tentatively bringing the spoon to his mouth and tasting.
It was…
An involuntary warble crooned in the back of his throat and he felt his skin bristle with an excited joy he'd only felt a few times in his life. Once, when the magic first listened to his call and responded in kind. Another when the Matron of the Old Winter house that spawned him demonstrated her ice magic,making the rigid construction of ice appear fluid, alive.
This mortal had created the best thing he'd ever tasted.
"This is good." He said when he realized everyone was watching him. A true statement, Kacchan's meal was far superior to the other human prepared meals he'd consumed as well.
Kacchan scoffed. "That's it? You literally do some weird fae equivalent of moaning and poof up like a bird and all you have to say is it's good?"
"Actually I said: 'this is good,'" he replied, just to see the mortal get worked up.
Kacchan let out a strangled noise that was immensely satisfying to hear, but Shouto supposed there was some truth to the complaint. He shifted the bowl to his left hand and held out the other and conjured a new summons.
"For your hospitality. I am not a faerie who allows myself to become indebted to others. Call on me again if you should need my services."
Kacchan looked confused, possibly overwhelmed, but he accepted the payment anyways. From the corner of his eye he saw Deku and Shitty Hair exchanging curious glances.
It went quiet as the group of them ate the food Kacchan prepared. The stew warmed him, soothing the steadfast cold that had settled in his bones from over exerting his ice magic. As he ate Shouto found himself unwittingly recalling another old memory, one of the few he had of the Matron of the Old Winter house.
It shed a light of understanding on the situation.
"Oh. I just realized why this food tastes so good."
"Really… please, do enlighten us. I'm so fucking interested in what you have to say." Kacchan said around a bite of food.
"It is because we are sharing a meal together," Shouto said, sure he was correct. "Someone I trust told me long ago a meal tastes better when eaten with others."
"You've never had a meal with other people before?" Deku asked, his voice cracking in what seemed like surprise.
"During my upbringing I was kept fairly isolated. My food was also strictly monitored, it was rare I was joined while eating." He said, and no one responded after that so Shouto figured their curiosity was satisfied.
Shouto finished his meal and had to restrain himself from licking the bowl as he finished, instead magicking it clean and returning it to the mortals. There was a fae tear conveniently to the left of Kacchan so he approached, watching as the mortal stiffened with suspicion.
"I expect that we shall be seeing each other again in the future, so, see you later." He said, leaning in to reach the fae tear and watching the mortal stutter in flushed confusion before Shouto was taken somewhere else.
Later, when the King contacted him for updates on his progress Shouto asked about what Dabi was doing, if they were both in the mortal plane maybe they could meet up and help each other out, work together.
"Leave Dabi, I have him on pest control. It is not anything of your concern." The King's voice has boomed in his mind and Shouto had to suppress a wince at the tone taken. Dismissive, annoyed, contempt.
"Yes sir."
The next time he felt the pull Shouto had shown up to a minor skirmish against a team of agitated giant badgers. The fight was nearly over by the time Shouto was called, and when he asked if the summons had once again been due to carelessness Kacchan lobbed a small square box at his face.
"Deku was supposed to come help me on this on this lame escort mission but the Shitty Nerd double-booked himself." He said as if that was cause for throwing things at Shouto's head.
When Shouto continued to stare at the mortal it only aggravated him further.
"He didn't tell me until the last fucking minute so I have an extra lunch and I didn't want it to go to waste!" It seemed physically painful for Kacchan to say the words. "I know you're incapable of feeding yourself, so I figured it'd be a safe bet that you were hungry."
"Your consideration and generosity are commendable. Do many mortals possess your level of care for the well being of others?"
"I don't fucking care about anyone," Kacchan said back, so quickly it felt like a reflex. "I just didn't want you dying of starvation before I used your goddamn summons."
"Rest assured I don't have any plans of dying from neglect."
"Coulda fooled me."
Shouto supposed there was some merit to that concern, as grating as the feeling was that this mortal was privy to a shortcoming of his.
Shouto looked down at the box, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a neatly made assortment of mortal food that smelled extraordinarily good. He picked up a small slice of some sort of rolled rice and savored the unexpectedly complex flavors that accompanied it.
A soft whistle fluttered on his contented sigh in the quiet forest between them as he chewed the food. Again, the intensity that he was feeling things, now positive emotions, was almost overwhelming.
"Your food is far superior to other mortal meals I've had." He said before picking at another bit of food and popping it in his mouth. The box of food was an interesting concept, and all the food was cut up into convenient bitesize pieces, making it easy to eat on the road.
It seemed mortals could be extremely resourceful when they needed to be.
"Of course it's the best. I'm number one in everything I do." He said the words without a hint of irony and Shouto studied the man as he ate.
He wasn't sure how seriously to take that claim, but he did know that he was a very talented archer, and both meals he'd prepared had been phenomenal, and the magic seemed exceptionally fond of him. That made getting this mortal's name all the more desirable.
Shouto produced another summoning sphere, and as Kacchan approached to take it he watched the magic lazily roll over the man, almost affectionate in his presence.
"If you ever have extra again, please do not hesitate to summon me," Shouto said, standing as he finished his food. He had places to be. "See you later."
After that, a pattern arose within the interactions Shouto had with the mortal he knew as Kacchan.
More often than not Kacchan would summon him for some easily won battle, usually by himself but over the span of several months he'd been introduced to several other mortals he was close to — though Shouto had yet to learn any of their true names — and the surplus of a meal would be shoved into his hands, or chucked at his head, or dropped at his feet.
Even when Kacchan summoned him for assistance with tasks that were life threatening at the end he was always feeding Shouto something.
The frequency he was summoned varied, but since he'd received the first box of food, also called a 'lunchbox' as Kacchan informed him, the time between summons had never extended two weeks.
And although he'd never say it out loud, he was starting to look forward to the moments when he felt the pull of a summons from Kacchan. He was starting to enjoy conversation with a being that knew more about him than just the short exchanges he usually had taking names or conducting business on behalf of King Endeavor.
He chalked it up to the meal sharing effect. Mortals were still terribly dull, often times extremely irritating to interact with, but the meals were incredible. Eating the food Kacchan made always made Shouto's body feel better. Like it was one less signal screaming at him that something was wrong.
That, and maybe he was lonely.
Faeries were social creatures. Even Shouto, who was raised alone and used to it. Being able to interact with these mortals, be included in their little rituals and bonding was a brief moment of respite while he lived in this horrible plane.
And, loneliness or not, it didn't make the food taste any less good.
51
