Chapter Text
Dear Gus
Nothing has changed much since the last time I wrote.
All of us here, those of us who are left, are trying to get by; we are living from day to day, without dreams or goals, because we don't expect things to get better anymore, just not to get worse. Food is getting harder and harder to get and our hideouts are getting harder to maintain because our magic is getting weaker along with us.
Nobody knows what's going on, or maybe they don't want some of us to know, because I know that the Owl Lady and some of the coven's heads are hiding something. I’m sure they have seen whatever created that huge house that is floating on the horizon, and I also know that all the missing are there, all those who didn’t escape when those monsters attacked our previous hideout. Those who vanished since the Day of Unity must also be there. You must be there; I'll get you out.
You loser, they caught you before anyone else.
Escaping from the isles is not an option, because along with that floating house, that thing created a prison, a purple dome that encapsulated the Boiling Isles, and that can't be damaged by any kind of magic. If you try to touch it... well, scouts say it feels like lava, and does the same thing. Strangely, it won't let any demons or witches through, but beasts, air, and objects can pass through it without getting any damage. Everyone thought that was our biggest problem until we saw those monsters... Even under these circumstances, Tinella, with who I once worked with (don't ask), still had her conspiracy theories. She used to say that one day, without any warning, that dome was going to start shutting down, devastating everything. That sounds a little far-fetched...
Anyway, the uncertainty is despairing, but at least Steve is back. It took the worst of it for us to get to spend some time together, but it's not like I've missed him all this time, obviously. I didn't freak out so much when he was cracking up on the Day of Unity thanks to the draining spell that skinny guy who claimed to be the Golden Guard talked about, (I still think I can take him). Anyway, everything was fine when the eclipse stopped, spontaneously and mysteriously, stopping the spell with it.
Well, changing the subject, I also know more about illusions; those Blight twins helped me though, but very little, I learned almost everything by myself (don't ask how either). I even helped to create illusions that serve as a hideout, I helped to create our barrier. Illusionist and construction magic are very useful right now, as we also created traps. That's why I'm an elemental member of our group. Sure I'm better than you now, and more popular too, but even with my great skills I can’t do what you did that day in Hexside. That was a freaking labyrinth. I hit myself many times that day thanks to you, and yet I fought the Emperor's Coven to save you; you owe me one, but on second thought, you'll owe me two when I manage to get you out of that weird prison. Anyway, I need you they need you here, you and your little tricks. Such a great illusion could have kept us safe that day.
That was the reason why I offered to look for you with your father, since he insisted you weren’t in that house, but when that happened, I realized how chicken everyone in Hexside is; no one wants to go with me, and I can't go alone. As Steve says, they need me at the hideout, I can't leave them without my protection when the adults go out to get supplies. I guess that's why I'm writing to you, but you'll never read this...
"Gross," he complained as he reread what he had written and looked with disgust at the drawings he had made in the margins of the pages. "This is ridiculous."
"What's ridiculous? little bro," spoke a voice a few paces behind Matt.
Mattholomule closed the notebook immediately without bothering to hide his panic and blush. "If anyone sees this, I'm going to throw myself into the sea," he thought as he hid the book under the pillow, which was arranged on top of the mat he slept, or tried to sleep, on every night.
"Nothing!" he shouted as he stood up and leaned with one arm on the rock wall beside him, looking at Steve with an attempt at a casual smile. "My Titan, don't you knock?"
"There's no door, we're in a cave," Steve replied, holding back his laughter as he watched his brother blush even more.
"Whatever..." he said in a nervous voice, regretting being so bad at hiding that strange feeling that had been stealing his sleep lately.
Steve moved closer and dropped onto his blanket, which was next to his brother's mat. In his time as part of the Emperor's Coven he had rested in worse conditions, so a pillow and a thin blanket separating him from the cold rock of that cave in The Knee was enough for him, but he hated that his younger brother was going through this sort of apocalypse.
After a sigh, he gestured for Mattholomule to come closer. His brother sat down, feeling Steve sit up and put a hand on his shoulder. A serious talk was coming.
"Are you all right, little man?" he asked in a serious voice compared to the one he used most of the time, talking about his adventures and inspiring the group. "Well, I mean, no one can be totally fine under the circumstances, but... you're different."
Steve knew that his brother had been restless, he knew that he never stopped tossing and turning on that mat at night, and if tiredness overcame him, he would soon wake up pale and covered in cold sweat, being the victim of a nightmare. Then he would see him contemplating the outside, longing for something that did not seem to be in this realm.
Everyone was going through the grief of loss and uncertainty about the fate of their families and friends, however, what worried him was what his brother might do about it. At the beginning of it all, he knew that Mattholomule had been searching, with Perry Porter, for Porter's son, and he had a feeling that, even though Perry was gone, he wanted to continue the search for the boy. But it was all uncertain, as Mattholomule would not open up to him, but if he thought about it, this was to be expected.
"I'm fine," he whispered, not taking his eyes off the ground, "I just... I don't know."
This was not easy for Mattholomule. His and Steve's mother had been there, but at the same time she had not, his father even less, so when his brother left to live out his dream, he had no one left, not until he found a friend, one who would perhaps accept him and his mistakes, who would accept him even after what he had done, someone in whom he saw a new beginning, but one who was now gone as well. That... hurt, and that was the answer Steve was looking for, but which he would keep to himself, because the last thing he wanted was to think about the fate of that special person, of Augustus.
Steve looked at him with concern, but understanding that Mattholomule was no longer the little boy who used to tell him everything, who used to seek his help when he scraped his knee after tripping on the playground, his face full of tears until Steve bought him candy and put a band-aid on his wound; he was no longer the boy who drew simple yet cute pictures with broken crayons of him and his brother fighting side by side in the Emperor's Coven. He knew he would never again see the Mattholomule he left alone some time ago. His decisions had affected his little brother and he regretted that, but what was done was done. All he could do was wait and be there until he gained his trust. Finally, he had a chance to be present as he should have been.
Without another word, he ran his hand through Mattholomule's hair, which was a bit longer already, ruffling it as he used to do long ago, something that always annoyed the younger one. As expected, his brother turned to him in disgust as he tried to stop him, and so it was, Steve suddenly stopped with a shocked expression as he felt something on his brother's head.
"What's wrong?" Mattholomule worried when he saw his brother's face, who was reaching his hand again, slowly raising the hair on his forehead. "Take off that face —"
"Oh, my Titan. How long has it been since you've seen yourself in a mirror?" He hurriedly lifted his brother up and led him to a puddle created by the melted snow from the previous night's campfire, where he could see his reflection. "Look at you!"
Mattholomule approached the reflection as his brother brushed his hair off his forehead, he strained his eyes for a moment until he could see the beginnings of a horn on the left side of his forehead. He was going to have a horn, just like his brother!
The bright, genuine smile Matty gave Steve caused a lump in Steve's throat, not only because he hadn't seen him so excited in a long time, but because that expression and those eyes overflowing with joy gave him hope that that little boy he played with years ago was still there, deep inside, but alive.
They were about to hug when a witch interrupted, calling urgently to Steve:
"I'm sorry to ruin the moment, sir, but —"
"Don't call me that, please, call me Steve," he mentioned a little annoyed, but with a serviceable smile on his face.
"Well, uh, Steve, one of our watchmen informed us that we are not safe here, he informed us about a threat..." the witch explained with some fear in his eyes, with some doubt.
“Just say it," demanded Mattholomule, back to his usual self.
"They want to see us, whoever started all this wants to see all of us," he finally declared, still desperate. "The watchman told us through the crystal ball that that kid is angry, that they need more players and that if we don't meet with them, they will finish with the whole isle to get us out of our hideout."
"The Collector..." declared Steve, plunging into his thoughts, beginning to come up with some plan, but a broken voice interrupted him, making him realize what he has just said.
"Wait... you said you didn't know anything about that thing," Mattholomule said, aggressively moving closer as that burning sensation in his chest grew. "What else didn't you tell me? Did you make a deal with them? Is this a freaking game? Is hurting and kidnapping a game? do they have Gus?!"
"No! Matty, I didn't want you to —"
"We have to go now!" said a witch as she entered that side of the cave.
The witch had glasses and fluffy black hair, the roots of it revealed a bright reddish color though. On her back she carried what appeared to be a house-shaped backpack, which contained that annoying demon that never shut up. It really disturbed him. This same feathered demon reached out and wrapped around Steve with the intention of pulling him out of the cave.
"There’s no time, Steve!" insisted Lilith with her palisman in hand.
"Are you even coming back?" Mattholomule said, evidently holding back tears from falling from his eyes, holding himself from falling to the ground as well, as his legs trembled shakily. It felt as if an earthquake was happening inside him.
"I'll explain everything when I get back," Steve shouted as he grabbed his stuff and walked out of the hideout with the other witches, stopping to look back once he realized he was doing exactly the same thing he wanted to avoid: leaving his brother. "I promise... "
"At least let me come with you, I can help," said the younger one in a low voice to avoid showing how shattered his voice was, extending an arm towards his brother.
All the young witches and children were assembled there, watching painfully as a group left toward that rubble-covered plain, rubble that used to be Bonesborough, that used to be their home. Those memories only made the mood worse, and despite the shame Mattholomule might feel as he crumbled in front of everyone there, he would be sure that his tears would not be the only ones.
"Stay here, little man," said Steve, looking for his brother’s gaze, but he didn't get it, so he just walked away as he whispered. "They need you here. Protect them."
The group disappeared behind the illusion barrier, leaving a few blue ripples in motion and everyone drowning in uncertainty if that was going to be the last time they would see them. They had lost enough and Mattholomule thought all was lost at that second.