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wittyy-name · 6 years

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Wild Magic - Part V: Flying - Now on Patreon

Keith/Lance, Rated M, Part Five: 27,920 words | Total So Far: 119,000+ violence, magic, vastaya au, strangers to lovers, freedom fighter Keith, entertainer Lance, action, adventure, fantasy, pining

Fic Summary: The Vastaya are an ancient and proud race, born of magic and man, and they are dying. The spread of humans makes the magic of their homelands run thin. What is left is preyed upon and corrupted by the rising galra influence.

After losing their home, what remains of the Marmora tribe scatters, fighting the spread of corruption where they can. For the last century, this is the only life Keith has known. And with Shiro’s disappearance, he’s more alone than ever. But he keeps going, even if it means losing himself. For the fight. For his people. For their future. For his homelands. For magic.

The last thing he expected to find was another feathered Vastaya, one with wings that shone like the sky and moved like waves when he danced. He never asked for company, never wanted it. But as Keith finds himself growing fond of Lance’s flippant attitude and determined blue eyes, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to fight alone anymore.

Part I: Falling – Part II: Rising – Part III: Soaring - Part IV: Gliding

Wild Magic is my upcoming fic collab with @wolfpainters. I’ll be working on this fic between major fic updates, and posting the chapters to my Patreon for all patrons of the $15 tier and up. This fic wont be posted to Ao3 until its completely finished, and Sora is done with all the art. This will be a while in the making, so become a patron for early access!

This is by far my favorite thing I’ve ever written, and it’s by far both of our favorite fic/au that we’ve done. Part V dives deeper into the lore and world building as the gang finds the altean monastery, convinces them to unite against the galra, Keith finds Krolia, and Keith and Lance share more tender moments.

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Excerpt Below

He's no stranger to chasing rumors. He's done so for centuries. Following whispered words and letting gossip guide him.

As such, he's familiar with the frustration that comes when a lead runs dry.

"This sucks," Pidge huffs, voice trailing to a strangled yelp as she once again on the roots and vines that crawl across the pathways. Keith peers down from his perch, watching as she stumbles, pointing angrily at the ground. "Okay, I know they're doing that on purpose! I saw it this time! The vines are moving, I swear."

Lance's chuckle comes lilting on the breeze, voice drifting from within the home Keith perches on top of. "The forest is having fun with you, Pidge."

"I hate forests." She sits on the lip of a cracked stone fountain, crossing her arms and legs, shoulders hunched. "I thought the ones outside Piltover were bad, but at least those ones didn't try to kill me."

"It's not trying to kill you," Shiro says from across what had once been a village square. His hands rest on his hips, tail flicking the air behind him and ears twitching restlessly. He turns slowly, eyes roaming. "It's just... playful."

"You talk like it has a mind of it's own."

"It does!"

Keith looks down to see Lance crawl out of one of the building's windows. He dusts himself off, straightening his clothes and taking gentle care to check Keith's feathers pinned to his cloak. He knows the feathers are far more durable than that, but the fact that he checks them incessantly makes a warmth flicker in Keith's chest.

"All forests do, but here the magic from the spirit realm is so thick that it saturates everything. The forest is actually able to act on its mind instead of standing idle."

"Great," Pidge says dryly. "So it's alive. Wonderful."

"Technically, all forests are alive." Hunk walks out of the building below Keith, using the open doorway. There's a bundle of bound parchment in his arms.

"You know what I mean," Pidge snaps, but Hunk hardly notices.

"Guys, this is so cool. I found some books? But they're like, really, really old books. It's in a language I don't even understand! I found a couple in what I assume was the kitchen, so maybe they're cook books? I found a few others scattered in the house. Do you think the Alteans can help us decipher them?"

"Probably," Matt says, swinging down from atop another building on a loose branch. He lands easily, picking a leaf out of his hair. "If they're really as old as people say they are. I agree with Hunk, though. This is amazing." He throws his arms out, gesturing to the village as he spins. "This is a footprint of ancient Ionian civilization. Back when people used to work with magic and natural to build their homes. I've read about it, but I never thought I'd see it."

"Too bad it's abandoned," Keith mutters.

"Well, yes, there is that."

Keith crosses his arms over his chest, taking a step back to turn and let his eyes scan across the village. It isn't the first they've come across. Since setting foot on this island, they haven't seen a single living person. Aside from the spirits and animals, they had nothing but eerie silence to keep them company. Even the strong melody of magic couldn't detract from the feeling of emptiness that settled across the landscape.

Like all the other villages they'd come across, the buildings of this one were woven from the trees themselves. Not built from the trees, but rather that the trees had grown and shaped to suit the village needs. They'd seen all sorts of natural architecture as they'd ventured deeper into the island. From all sorts of plant life and the earth itself. The buildings they'd come across settled naturally into the landscape rather than stand atop it.

He'd heard of such magic. Nature magic. The ability to communicate with the energies of the earth. To call out to the magic of living things and will them to grow in specific ways. Wood weavers. Earth builders.

Many vastaya villages were made in a similar way, but he'd heard that long ago, humans could use this kind of magic. He never truly believed it, but now the proof was all around him. On an island that had been abandoned and left an empty husk for spirits to roam.

The humans had fallen far if this is where their ancestry lied.

"Pidge, you have a few..." Keith glances down to find Matt sitting on the lip of the fountain next to Pidge, gesturing vaguely around his head.

Pidge sighs, shoulders slumping. There's a faint glowing bobbing around her head. Two of them. "I know. I tried getting rid of them, but they keep coming back." As Keith watches, the glowing seems to solidify. Two spirits, pale in color and bodies fat and round. Looking like palm sized caterpillars with large eyes and markings that pulsed with light. They became more corporeal, nuzzling into Pidge's hair. "Besides," She says, unable to stop her smile. "They're kind of cute, I guess."

"They think your hair is a nest," Matt snickers, and Pidge playfully shoves him.

Shiro sighs, arms crossing over his chest. "I don't think we're going to find much here."

They all glance over, smiles fading, but it's Pidge who speaks up first. "What're we looking for anyway?"

"At this point, I'd say we're looking for any sign of life around here. We know the altean monastery used to be on this island, we just don't know where or how to find it," Matt says, leaning back on his hands, eyes on Shiro.

"You said they've been missing for thousands of years," Pidge says, slight frown as she stares at Shiro's back. Her voice softens. "Are we sure they're even still alive?"

"No," Shiro breathes out a long sigh. "But we have to hope. We have to make sure. The galra are still wary of them, and the galra fear nothing. That's as good of a reason as any to believe they're still alive."

"Maybe they don't want to be found?" Hunk shifts his weight as eyes turn to him. He busies himself with organizing the bound parchment in his hands, shifting them gently into his bag. "I mean, obviously they don't want to be found. That's why they've been missing for like, forever. But maybe they really don't want to be found? What if they don't want anything to do with us or Ionia?"

"We're not going to give them a choice," Keith says, perhaps a hair too sharply.

One of Shiro's ears swivel in his direction, and the look in his eyes is of exasperated fondness. "Everyone has a choice, Keith. We just need them to hear us out."

"What if they don't want to listen?"

"Then we'll just have to be super convincing, won't we?" Lance scrambles up the building, feet and hands finding easy holds in the woven and twisted bark of the tree. He pulls himself up to Keith's perch on a wide, flat expanse that serves as a roof and a ledge before the tree continues to spiral upwards.

He hooks an arm over Keith's shoulders, leaning into him and offering a curl of his lips. He leans in close, breath whispering against the fur of Keith's ears. "I've heard I'm very convincing."

A shiver runs down his spine, and while Keith says nothing, Lance seems pleased with himself nonetheless.

"Do we have any idea where the monastery is?" Pidge asks, looking to Matt who only shakes his head.

"Unfortunately, no. Everything I've read and everyone I've talked to just says that it was located at the heart of the north eastern isle." He purses his lips, looking up at the trees that towered above them. "I was kind of hoping we'd just... wander around and eventually find someone who could point us in the right direction. Ask the locals, you know? Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. Everything I've read about explorers trying to find the monastery says it's impossible. Like the whole place just disappeared without a trace."

"How does a whole monastery and civilization just..." Hunk waves a hand around vaguely. "Disappear?"

Shiro steps closer to where they gather near the fountain. His brows crease as he stares at the moss covered stonework, tail twitching behind him. "The Alteans were known to be masters of magic. From legends, we know that they were apart of an ancient order dedicated to keeping the balance in Ionia. They watched over spiritual gates and the ley lines. It's entirely possible that it's magic that's keeping them hidden."

"Cool, so we just gotta find a magically hidden ancient civilization," Hunk says, nodding as he closes up his bag and swings it over his shoulder once more. "Easy. No problem."

Pidge turns to Matt, and even from here, Keith can see the clockwork turning behind her eyes. "Do you think we could reverse engineer our magic analyzer to seek magic instead? Like read the levels in the air?"

Keith watched that brilliant spark of magic light up Matt's eyes. "Because if they're being hidden by magic, then there's gotta be a huge concentration of it."

"That would at least lead us in the right direction."

They keep going. A back and forth with no end. Finishing each other's thoughts and sentences. That precious madness flaring between them. Then Hunk joins a grounding force that allowed them to grow. Keith doesn't understand most of what they're saying, but he supposes he doesn't need to.

Shiro looks about as lost as he feels, but he's at least making an attempt to understand.

"I think we're going about this the wrong way." Lance's voice is light and thoughtful, soft enough to be kept private. Keith tilts his head, eyeing him sidelong and lifting a brow to show he has his attention. He watches Lance's profile as he frowns, brows furrowing as he tilts his head. He gestures to those below. "We're going about this like humans."

"The Alteans are human."

The pinch between his brows relaxes, and his lips start to ease upwards. "True, but they weren't blind, nor were they deaf." Lance tilts his head, catching Keith's gaze. There's a sharpness there, and a gleam in his smirk. "Shiro said they were masters of magic and keepers of spiritual gates. What are we, Keith?" His voice dips, and a shiver runs through Keith.

He feels his own lips curl in an answering grin.

Lance steps away from him, arm leaving Keith's shoulder but hand running down his arm to clutch at Keith's as he turns to face him. "We're children of the spirit realm. They might be masters of magic, but we're born from it. I think it's time we stop acting like humans and start acting like vastaya."

His fingers curl between Keith's, grin wide and fangs glinting in the light peeking between the trees. Keith smirks, heart beating wildly in his chest. He understands.

He drops to a crouch, pulling Lance with him. Lance drops at his side, allowing the tug to drag him down. Keith presses their joined hands to the bark beneath them, smooth and woven and ancient, but still very much alive.

He closes his eyes.

He breathes out.

He feels his magic swirl in his core. Bright and vibrant. Harsh warm hues. Warming to deeper purples and indigos and violets.

He feels Lance's magic next to him. Nearly as bright as his own. Washing over him. Cool and soothing. Grounding as it is chaotic. Powerful and rolling. Strength hidden in the illusion of calm. Blues of every shade, swirling and igniting together.

He feels the clash where their hands touch. The sparks where their energies connect. Arcing toward each other. Unable to resist. Unable to stop the attraction, even on a molecular level.

Reaching out, he feels the energy humming through the tree. Chases it down to the earth, where the ley lines run thick and uninhibited. They fracture outward. A spiderweb of fissures that run endless through the ground. He feels where the plant life draws from them. He feels the way it radiates from the earth into the air.

He feels the forest.

He feels the animals.

He feels the ley lines.

He feels the minor spirits that drift through the trees and hover just out of reach, drawn and curious by their presence.

He feels... something stronger. A tug. A distant pull. Something calling to him, but not in any manner he's familiar with. Faint and fleeting. A whispered question.

He snaps his eyes open, gaze locking with Lance's. His eyes are bright. Crinkling at the edges. Dancing with the dust motes.

"You felt it." It's not a question.

Lance's smile curls wide. "Yes."

"What is it?"

"Only one way to find out."

They leap from their perch, darting off into the village with hands still joined. He can hear the others' shouts of surprise. He can hear the questions. He ignores their fading voices, focusing on that distant tug.

They weave through the village, darting between trees that shape homes. Abandoned and empty husks within the woven trunks. Though the shadows and the rays of light drifting down from between branches.

Lance slows at his side. "I lost it."

Keith's hand tightens around his. "I didn't."

He still feels it. Getting stronger and stronger. He realizes that he's following the ley lines. That they're all converging on a point ahead. He pushes his pace. Feet barely touching the grass-lined cobblestones. Lance runs at his side until Keith pulls ahead. Until his hand slips from Keith as Keith darts ahead. Faster. Faster. Faster.

He stops when he reaches another clearing. Another square within the village. He stops suddenly, brought up short by a feeling in his gut. His momentum carries his wing forward, feathers rustling as they settle back down his back.

The ley lines pool here, creating a small wellspring that was no doubt once the village's heart. At the center of the village square is a pillar of stone. It rises from the earth, somehow looking natural despite the deliberate craft to it. The smooth spiral and twisting rise of it.

He steps closer, eyes narrowing at the symbols carved around the pillar. He doesn't recognize them, but he feels like he should.

He feels a presence. A sudden power that makes his hair stand on end and his feathers bristle.

He spins into a crouch, wing automatically flaring out and fingers combing through his feathers, plucking three at random. Magic sparks at his fingertips, sharpening and steeling them.

His eyes lock onto a creature that hovers at the edge of the square, tucked into the shadows of two buildings.

A spirit.

A powerful spirit at that.

Keith can feel the energy radiating from them. Cold on his tongue and washing over his skin like water. Strangely soothing, but sharp enough to keep him on edge. The spirit's body, while corporeal, seems to blur at the edges. Wisps of mist curling from it and obscuring its form. Blue of all shades, swirling and shifting and constantly in motion.

The form of... a lion? Certainly a cat of some sort. Body large. Ears pointed and curled at the tips. Tail thin and flickering, a tuft of hair at the end. Features sharp in places that seem odd and rounded at others. A feline, yes, but definitely a spirit creature.

It stares at Keith, and Keith stares black. Unblinking. Wary. It doesn't feel malicious, but he can never be too certain. Spirits rarely mean harm, especially to vastaya, but he fears if he looks away, the magnificent creature will disappear.

It's gaze, however, is fixed to him. Eyes dark and endless as the night sky. Drawing him in. Seeing through him. Taking the weight of his soul and measuring it.

His breath is caught in his lungs.

Then there's a rustle behind him. A familiar press of cool magic. A soft inhale, and a gentle rush of air. "Whoa..."

The spirit's eyes leave Keith's, snapping to Lance instead. Keith finds himself still unable to move. Waiting, though he isn't sure for what.

A flash of blue in the corner of his eye. "Lance," He hisses, but Lance is already moving forward.

His steps aren't wary, but they're slow. Deliberate. He moves forward with the same grace that fills his every movement, swaying up to the spirit with a confidence that lacks cockiness. When he nears, he drops to his knees, holding his hands out.

And Keith watches, amazed and awed, as the spirit moves forward. As it bumps its head into Lance's hands. As Lance laughs, hands running through the mane of mist.

Lance cradles the spirit's feline head in his hands, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.

Keith hears the clatter of footsteps, loud in the silence. The voices of their friends. He hears their heavy breathing and loud arrival. He hears them stop behind him. Their soft gasps.

"What's... what's he doing?" Hunk asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Lance turns then, head whipping around and grin catching the light as his eyes dance. "Guys! I know where we need to go!"

Keith feels a tug at his lips. "He's asking the locals."

#klance #vastaya au #fic: wild magic #fic: wm #wing fic sorta #fantasy au #high fantasy #magic au #adventure #action #wittyywrites #patreon #long post

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