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He heard the rumbling of the crowd long before his uncle’s entourage ushered him through the corridor that led to the balcony. A tangle of nervous knots pulled taught in his stomach and the stitches along his cheek burned, all but begging for him to scratch at it. He bit down on his lower lip instead, pulling the fabric of his sleeves tightly into his fists and squeezing his red eyes shut. He hoped it would be enough to make the itch go away. He’d already been warned not to touch his cheek.
“Hunter.”
Hunter winced and looked up. Walking in step with him loomed his uncle, Emperor Belos, his horned mask polished so perfectly the boy could see his own trembling reflection staring back at him.
The entourage stopped, but Belos waved them on, his white cape swishing through the air as he swiftly turned to place a hand beneath his nephew’s chin.
“The only ones who should be fearful inside the Conformatorium are my enemies, and you’re not my enemy are you, Hunter?” he asked, his low voice echoey from behind his mask.
Blond bangs brushed side to side as the boy quickly shook his head.
“Good.”
Hunter’s pointed ears perked up, catching the smile in the Emperor’s voice. The man gave his head a quick pat and led him to the golden curtains at the end of the long corridor, where the entourage stood patiently waiting for the both of them.
Belos flicked the blond forelock out of Hunter’s face and pushed through the curtains, leaving the boy inside with the group of guards and officials while he stepped outside onto the balcony. The deafening roar from the crowd packed within the courtyard shook the walls.
“Children of the Isles,” Hunter heard from the other side of the curtains, watching his uncle’s silhouette as it moved. “The Titan has seen fit to bring a blessing upon my family and the dear citizens of our great Empire. Not but two days ago, the most loyal members of my coven raided a hidden terrorist outpost and made a miraculous discovery…”
The Emperor’s silhouette turned, the shadow looking over its shoulder.
“Hunter, come,” Belos commanded, speaking only loud enough for the entourage behind the curtain to hear.
Hunter snapped to attention, walking forward through the curtains without question. Waiting for him on the other side of the curtain and far below the balcony was a sea of faces, their suspicious murmurs sounding like the crackling of a dying fire. The boy sucked in a sharp breath, sinking in on himself and pausing mid-step.
Belos wrapped a heavy hand around Hunter’s forearm and walked him closer to the edge of the parapet, not giving the boy a chance to turn back and hide behind the curtains. He moved directly behind Hunter and rested both of his hands on either side of his shoulders, keeping him still with a bit of pressure. After a moment, the boy relaxed ever so slightly against Belos, and the Emperor hummed his approval.
“This is my nephew,” he continued, his voice booming across the courtyard, “son of my most beloved brother, and former captive of those who’d wished to extinguish my bloodline.”
Surprised gasps and cheers from the crowd built up into an overwhelming crescendo, causing Hunter to push further back into his uncle’s chest.
“We were framed!” a voice suddenly cried out, the outburst hushing the crowd.
Hunter tore his gaze from the people below and moved it toward an elevated stage situated directly across from the balcony. A row of witches stood tied around individual poles on one end of the stage.
“The only thing we’re guilty of is wanting to live free from your rule!” a different witch added.
Anything else they would’ve said was cut off by vines that grew from the ground, gagging the row of witches.
“Deceivers until the bitter end,” Belos said, his eyes flashing dangerously blue. “As all wild witches are. For your continued crimes against the Boiling Isles and for the attempt on my nephew’s life, I hereby sentence you all to death by petrification.”
A strange device slowly emerged from beneath the stage— filling in the empty space to the side of the tied prisoners. It looked like a statue with four faces pointing in each cardinal direction. The statue’s four sets of hands were clasped in prayer, and each pair of glowing eyes remained locked in an expression of eternal agony.
Even from the distance of the balcony, Hunter could see the panic and fear in the witches' faces as they desperately yelled against their gags.
“Let it be known,” Belos’ voice rang out, addressing the crowd over the sound of the petrification device, “if any wild witch attempts to do the same to your children, they will receive a matching swift and just punishment.”
Hunter curled his head down, choosing to focus on the pebbles in the balcony’s stonework instead of the execution. The fear of getting petrified seemed all too familiar to him somehow.
“Stand up straight, Hunter,” Belos sharply said. Hunter pulled his shoulders back and moved his chin parallel to the ground, blinking rapidly as his eyes began to sting.
“Remember, this is a consequence to all who threaten my Empire.”
Belos tightened his grip on Hunter’s shoulders.
“No matter who they are.”
A bright light erupted from the statue, and Hunter quickly lifted a hand to protect his eyes. When he lowered it, he found himself sitting in a dining hall.
He twisted in his chair, brows knitting together and nose scrunching as he took in his new surroundings.
He was back at the palace. How did he—
“More nightmares, you said?”
Hunter turned in the direction the voice had come from. His uncle was suddenly seated next to him, maskless and cutting into the meal he was having for breakfast.
“We’ll have Terra Snapdragon brew something for you. You remember her, don’t you?”
Hunter nodded his head. Everything else about meeting the Coven Heads felt fuzzy in his mind, but he’d never forget that woman. She’d pinched his cheeks so hard that his stitches popped, and the whole row of sutures needed to get resewn.
“Try not to think about them too much, Nephew.” The Emperor placed his fork down, turning in his chair to meet Hunter’s eyes. “They’re just dreams. The wild witches have already been dealt with, they can’t hurt you anymore.”
Wild witches? Hunter felt his pulse quicken. He blinked, and his uncle vanished.
The stone palace walls melted into the wooden ones of a burning building. Despite the flames, a stinging chill bit into the air, and through the swirling black smoke, Hunter saw people running and screaming in every direction.
“Run, it’s an ambush!” a voice cried out behind him. “There’s too many of them!”
When he turned around, a witch’s staff was suddenly held up to his face, crackling magic glowing dangerously close to the tip of his nose.
“Don’t worry, you won’t remember a thing.”
Hunter jolted awake with a scream, curling forward into his lap and cradling the scarred side of his face. Hot tears stung the corners of his eyes, but he angrily blinked them away before they had the chance to fall and stain his cheeks. He took a long, deep breath in and gingerly straightened himself back up.
“It was only a dream,” he muttered, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and curling his fingers around his blond hair. “Just a dream.” He let out a long exhale as he dragged his hands down his face, turning to check the crystal ball next to his bed for the time.
A low groan echoed out from his throat as he leaned back against the bed’s wooden headboard. One in the morning . He’d barely been asleep for four hours.
Hunter kicked the bedsheets off of him and rolled out of bed, its wooden frame creaking in protest at the sudden motion.
He slipped off his night tunic, sucking in a quick breath through his teeth at the sudden drop in temperature, and changed into a clean pair of trousers. He popped his head and arms through a new shirt and sighed as he laced up his boots. This was the outfit he was supposed to wear tomorrow— well, today technically— but he didn’t want to roam the palace in his nightwear. He needed to go down to the kitchens and brew himself another cup of Snapdragon’s tea.
Hunter walked to his bedroom door and twisted the knob.
Wait.
He’d had a cup of tea after supper. Hunter tapped his forehead against his door, shoulders slumping in defeat. He remembered drinking a cup while talking with his uncle in the indoor gardens about… something. Hunter ground his teeth together and gripped the sides of his head, a sharp stinging sensation radiating out from his temples. Titan, the side effects of Snapdragon’s potions were the worst .
“Stupid medicine,” Hunter said, his voice muffled against the door. “Why didn’t it work tonight?”
Uncle said to let him know if the dreams ever returned— he’d have Snapdragon return to brew him something stronger, but Hunter frowned at the thought. If she visited the palace, she’d probably pinch his cheeks again. He shuddered. No thanks.
Hunter pushed himself back from the door and ran his hands through his blond hair. His dreams were less vivid now— which had been an improvement, right? He doubted he even needed the tea anymore. The dreams would probably just fade on their own now.
He should try getting back to sleep.
The boy looked over his shoulder at his bed, then lurched forward gagging. His hand flew to his mouth as he sharply turned on his heels, still smelling the burning building from his dream. He pushed out the bedroom door and started walking in no particular direction down the halls away from his room and the very thought of going back to sleep.
Hunter didn’t slow his rapid pace until the sour feeling in his stomach settled.
He passed a few castle guards while walking on his journey to nowhere. If the coven scouts thought it was odd he was out of bed, they didn’t say anything as they continued their nightly patrols. Hunter turned down a new corridor, one completely filled with murals and paintings of his uncle, before coming to a halt.
An ornately-carved, wooden door stretching from the floor to the edge of the ceiling caught his attention. He backtracked a few steps and gently pushed a hand against it, quietly stepping inside.
Red eyes wide with wonder, Hunter took in the room around him. There were shelved archways and rows upon rows of books in every direction. Decorative pillars reached up toward a star chart painted onto the domed vaulted ceiling, and though there wasn’t any light shining through it at the moment, a giant stained glass window covered a majority of the room’s far wall.
The Imperial Library.
Hunter knew the library was in the palace somewhere, but in all the months living here, he’d never had the time to visit it. His schedule—from sunrise to sunset— had strictly been studying with tutors, visiting with his uncle, drinking his tea for the nightmares, and starting everything over the next day.
His ears perked up at the sound of angry footsteps tapping on the tiled floors.
“For the last time, this library is reserved for official Coven business during these hours so HELP me, Titan—”
A middle-aged woman with black hair rounded the corner, her angled face flushed red with anger and her hands pressed tightly on her thin hips. Her bright green eyes widened in shock when she saw Hunter, he was clearly not the person she’d expected to see, but her expression was immediately replaced by a sharp scowl.
“Oh,” she stated, bringing a hand up to her forehead. “I’ll summon a guard, you must’ve gotten lost.”
“I’m not lost!” Hunter scoffed and crossed his arms. “I just can’t sleep.”
“Take this,” the woman drew a small white circle into the air with her finger, and a book fell into Hunter’s hands.
The boy scanned the words on the cover and scrunched his nose.
“Mining Practices of the Savage Ages Vol. III?”
“It’ll knock you right out; now go back to bed.”
The woman’s black dress lightly brushed the floor as she turned and walked away. Hunter followed after her, skidding on one leg as he quickly rounded the corner. By the time he’d caught up with the woman, she’d already sat back down at her long desk.
“What are you doing here?” Hunter asked.
The woman snapped her head up, eye twitching and face twisting into a glare. A small tower of stacked teacups littered the table, and ink vials and scrolls blanketed the desk completely.
“I’m drafting my declaration of approval for an excavation that’s happening this week— Among a multitude of other assignments I oversee as my duty as the Imperial Historian of the Emperor’s Coven.”
Hunter blinked. Oh, this was Lilith Clawhorne. His tutors had spoken of her before.
When Hunter didn’t respond, Lilith pointed back in the direction he’d come from. “I’m trying to catch up on work, so leave.”
Hunter lowered his brows and pursed his lips.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Let me guess, nightmares?”
The boy took a sudden step back, catching a surprised gasp before it escaped his throat. Was he really that easy to read?
Lilith rolled her eyes and returned to her work. “What do you remember?” she asked in a monotone voice, not once looking up from her scroll. “Talking about them used to help me when I was your age.”
“Oh, um,” Hunter felt a blush working its way to the tips of his ears. He’d only ever talked about the nightmares with his uncle. He took a breath in and rocked forward on his toes, clasping and unclasping his hands.
“I-I think it’s from when Emperor Belos found me all those months ago. There was a house. It was on fire. There were wild witches. They… they tried—” Hunter rubbed his knuckles down the scar on his cheek, shaking his head—“Um, yeah, that’s pretty much all the important parts.”
“Feel better?” Lilith hummed out the question, gaze still locked on her stack of papers.
“Not rea—”
“Great. Get out,” the Historian droned, having long stopped listening to the boy.
“Fine.” Hunter snapped. Then a sly smirk slowly drew itself across the boy's face. “I’ll just break into the library myself once you're gone. Since your office is located here, I sincerely hope each attempt I make doesn’t alert your living quarters all night.”
Lilith looked up, her angry green eyes meeting the boy’s unyielding red ones. She slammed her quill flat against the desk with a loud crack. “Will you even know how to lock up and secure the library when you're done?” She barely got the question out through her grit teeth. Lilith was tired, she wasn’t thinking straight, and she didn’t have time or patience to waste arguing with this impudent child.
“I won’t have to. I don’t plan on leaving.”
At that, Lilith blinked.
“You plan on staying up all night?”
Hunter lowered his dark brows, his determined expression never wavering.
A long, exasperated sigh droned from the Historian. “Fine,” she finally hissed through her teeth. “You can stay here in the library tonight.”
Blond bangs fell into the boy’s eyes as he looked down at the book in his hands, tightly bringing it against his chest and breathing out a huff of relief through his nose.
“Only this once,” the woman added, holding up a single bony finger.
Hunter nodded and ran over into his own little private corner of the library. He slid his back down a pillar and sat there against it, bringing his legs up to his chest.
“Just this once,” he muttered, cracking open the mining book. “Just one night.”
Lilith Clawthorne softly hummed to herself and pushed open the Imperial Library doors with a gentle creek. The morning light spilling in from the stained glass window made the library’s tiled floors look like liquid gemstones. She smiled, smoothing down the wrinkles on her dress, and breathed in a relaxing breath of air.
Only to have her pointed ears twitch and her mouth pull back into a tight frown seconds later.
Someone was whistling a familiar little tune deeper inside the library.
“If you’re sitting up on the shelves again, I swear to Titan I will slip poison in your drinks for the rest of your life,” Lilith called out, marching over to her desk.
“Good morning to you too.”
Lilith looked up. Oh of course out of all the shelves and archways to choose from, he’d be sitting atop the shelves closest to her desk… Right along the edge with a foot hanging off no less.
“Brat.”
“Hag.”
She sighed and massaged her temples. It was too early for a migraine.
“Your tea’s on the desk by the way,” Hunter said, pointing his thumb over in the right direction, but keeping his eyes on the pages of his book.
Lilith hmphed through her nose and wordlessly sat down.
“Wow,” Hunter rolled his head back while exaggerating the word. “I know you’ve finally got promoted to Coven Head and all—congrats by the way— but a ‘thank you’ would still be appreciated.”
A hex buzzed between his nose and the book, leaving a burning crater where it had struck a nearby pillar. Hunter shut his jaw with an audible click.
“And as the newly appointed Coven Head,” Lilith began, “I command you to come down from that shelf and leave. It seems you’ve forgotten that you’ve been banned from the library until you return all your overdue books.”
“That sounds like a problem for the new Historian to deal with.”
“I’m still the Historian.”
“Oh,” Hunter looked down at Lilith and snapped his book shut. He jumped down from the shelf with a stack of books nestled safely between his side and his arm.
“So, what I’m hearing is… I can’t borrow these?”
“No. Now return those to their rightful shelves and don’t come back until you’ve brought all—”
Hunter glanced at the library door and bolted for it.
He dodged each blast of magic Lilith fired his way, jumping over tables and sliding across the tiles. Lilith bit back a curse. Damn that brat and his top marks in the agility courses.
By some small miracle, she snagged him by the ankle with a vine she'd conjured up from the floors, catching the boy and dragging him back into the library. With a flick of her wrist, she suspended him upside down in the air.
Lilith’s face didn’t look any less angry upside down, Hunter discovered.
“Bring back your overdue books or I’ll—”
“Yeah, yeah, poison my drinks.” Hunter made a small noise of complaint when Lillith ripped the books he’d been holding out of his hands. He frowned and fought to keep the end of his shirt from falling over his face. “Well jokes on you,” he added. “The Emperor’s having me build up my immunity to poisons, so you’ll actually be helping me.”
He crossed his arms and stuck out his tongue.
“The Cuticle’s death-ant venom has been my favorite so far, so if you’re taking reques—”
The vine holding his ankle vanished, and Hunter unceremoniously fell headfirst onto the floor.
“Um, OUCH ?!” he said incredulously from the ground, tenderly rubbing the back of his head.
“Return the books, or don’t come back.” Lilith repeated, ushering the boy out of the library.
“Don’t worry,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll borrow them for just one more ni—”
The door slammed in Hunter’s face before he could finish the sentence, but the sound of Lilith’s exasperated sigh on the other side still brought a smirk to his lips.