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"You barge in here harping about heroism and happy endings," the hulking beast before her spoke, "As if this were one of your stories."
Luz trembled, scooting backwards against the floor as her feet grew still and heavy, legs tingling with pins and needles before all sensation abruptly stopped. Her body was quickly turning to stone and becoming too heavy to move.
"It's not," said the thing that had once been a man. "It's one of my stories, the one where I win."
"No!" she yelled defiantly, scrambling for a glyph, but her pockets were already petrified. Ice cold terror clawed at her lungs and banged against her ribs.
"You stupid child," the emperor seethed, leaning in so that the stench of rot and decay on his breath expelled across her face and she began coughing painfully, half frozen chest unable to move properly, lungs beginning to hiccup and hurt. "You were always going to die here."
He reached forward and grabbed her by the front, claws twisting into her freezing shirt as pain crawled up her neck and she desperately, frantically willed her frozen arms to move, to stop this, to save herself. She fought the stiffening muscles in her face to open up her mouth and scream:
"Let me go, Belos!"
Thunder crashed in the background as she blinked away the dark room in the castle and the fading scent of decomposition and smoke. She was in her living room in the human realm, rain pattering the ground outside as the roll of thunder began to fade and her rapid breathing began to slow.
Lightning struck beyond the window and lit up the dark room, along with Hunter's frozen, stricken expression where he was kneeling beside the couch.
"Hunter!" she cried in surprise.
She couldn't believe she hadn't noticed him first. She'd been having a lot of nightmares lately, and creeping downstairs in the dead of night to sleep on the couch, lest she wake the other girls she was sharing the room with. It wasn't the first time he'd woken her from one, but it was the first time that she'd called him–
She took in a sharp breath. "I didn't mean–"
"It's fine," he said immediately. A moment ago the look he was giving her was one as if she'd slapped him across the face, but it shifted quickly to a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "You were having a bad dream. I know what you meant."
Luz was not falling for it. Despite his plastic smile she could see the way his hands were shaking, the way his ears flattened and the pain in his eyes. He could smile and speak as light and easy as if they were discussing the weather, but he couldn't disguise his hurt, not from her.
"No, Hunter, really," she insisted, "I didn't mean you, I was just having another nightmare about the day of unity. It's just– it was just another Belos dream."
"I know," he said in his most reassuring tone. His eyes didn't change. "I don't hold it against you."
The fact she didn't think that was a lie made her feel worse. "Hunter…"
He stood up. His smile didn't falter. "I'm sorry. You should get back to sleep. Titan knows you need it."
She swallowed thickly, trying to think of what to say, but she couldn't come up with anything before he'd turned away and returned to the basement, shutting the door behind him and leaving her alone.
There was another low rumble of thunder that she could feel in her bones. She felt a burning urge to run after him, to say again she hadn't meant him, she could never mistake him for Belos, not even in her nightmares, but–
But instead she pulled the covers over her head and bit her lip to keep from crying, letting warm darkness send her back to sleep.
She found herself in the portal room again, only this time it was not her own feet turning to stone, but someone else's. Hunter scrambled back against the floor, wrist glowing and legs frozen up to his ankles, bearing the same agonized expression he had before.
"You stupid child," her own voice sneered as she watched her arm reach out toward him, green and wrinkled and rotten. Tears rolled down Hunter's cheeks as stone climbed up his belly. "You were always going to die here."
He sobbed, wide-eyed, whole body shaking uncontrollably. He stared up at her with an expression filled with anguish and despair and utter acceptance of his fate, as if he had known since the day he was born that this was how he would leave this world. That he would never make it to eighteen. That he would never get to be happy.
"I know," he sniffled, and squeezed his eyes shut.
It was after eight AM when she woke again from restless slumber gasping for air, but despite the hour it was still dark out. The storm had continued through the night and was still going, skies grey-black and pouring out endlessly.
She glanced over at the closed basement door and guilt roiled in her gut. After another moment of silence, she kicked off the blanket and stood, ignoring the sound of rain to peek down the stairwell.
Dark, and silent. She tip-toed down the steps to confirm her suspicions: Hunter's sleeping bag was empty.
She shouldn't be that surprised. He had a tendency to wake up early on a normal day, usually around five or six. She wasn't even sure he could sleep more than six hours at a time.
She shut the basement door behind her and grimaced. She didn't know where he could be. The bathroom door had been ajar and the room dark, so he hadn't been there. She was pretty sure at this hour he was usually in the living room reading quietly, but he wasn't here or in the kitchen either. There was no real reason to go upstairs…
She caught movement from the corner of her eye in the window over the sink and crossed the room to peer outside.
Hunter was standing in the pouring rain, swinging his staff through a complex series of katas with an expression of intense focus. He looked exhausted and Luz felt her hackles raise. She crossed to the door as quickly and quietly as she could and then practically sprinted around the side of the house.
"Hunter!" she called, "What are you doing?!"
"Training," he answered simply. He spun his staff, letting it roll across the back of his hand before catching it again and dropping to a crouch to sweep the legs out from an imaginary enemy.
"But it– it's raining!" she burst. She didn't know why she couldn't cross the yard to where he was, twenty paces away, but her feet stayed rooted to the earth.
"Yep," he replied.
"It– you–" She fumbled for words. "You're gonna get sick!"
"No, I won't."
She hadn't heard him this cold and monosyllabic in awhile. She didn't like it.
"Hunter…" Luz said softly. She didn't know what to say, or what to do. She didn't like how he was acting and she knew it was her fault but not how to fix it. When he didn't respond she finally shook off her stupor and walked up beside him, just out of range of his staff spinning. "Please come back inside," she asked, wringing her hands together. "You really are going to get sick. How long have you been out here?"
He wouldn't look at her, gaze locked stubbornly forward. "Grimwalkers don't get sick."
She frowned. "You've never gotten sick before?"
"Nope."
He grit his teeth when he said it, though, eyes narrowing.
"You're lying."
"Yeah, I do that a lot." He jammed the end of his staff into the muck to vault over an invisible wall or opponent, then pulled it up, spun around and jabbed it forward in a smooth, practiced motion.
"Why are you acting like this?" she asked weakly. Nothing made her feel more fragile and useless than seeing a friend in obvious pain and not being able to do anything about it. Her heart ached in her chest.
"I'm not acting like anything. I'm acting completely normal."
"You're acting like The Golden Guard," she told him, "You're not acting like Hunter."
His next swing saw him lose his footing and stumble, feet splashing in the grass. He let his staff hang at his side, chest heaving from exertion.
"Don't call me that," he said eventually.
It sent a bolt of panic through her chest. She felt horrible for having said it. Especially when she'd called him Belos earlier.
"I'm sorry." She tightened her hands grip on one another. "I didn't mean to–"
"I know you didn't," he interrupted. "It's fine."
Luz stared at the ground. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to fix it.
"Sometimes I wonder if I'm even real," he said, unprompted. Luz looked up.
"What do you mean?"
"I think I have feelings," he replied, "But what if I don't? What if those are fake, too? Maybe I look real, but I'm not."
"Of course you're real," she gasped. "You're my friend. You care about me. I can feel it! I know that's real. And– and Hunter, you're upset. That's real, too."
"Maybe," he admitted.
"I worry about you," she continued. "I worry about you a lot, Hunter. You won't take care of yourself and you won't let anyone else take care of you, either. Please, I don't want to lose you."
He finally turned to face her, looking profoundly weary. His hair lay flat against his skull, forelock stuck to the center of his face. He looked a little like a half-drowned rat.
"I don't want to get lost," he admitted. His voice warbled, but it finally sounded like Hunter again.
"Please come back inside and warm up," she asked. "If something happens to you, too, Hunter, I don't think I can bear it."
He was silent for a long moment before he nodded mutely and turned to follow her back toward the door. He let go of his staff and Flapjack fluttered up to roost on his shoulder with a sad chirp.
She made scrambled eggs while he took a hot shower– done in six minutes, military efficiency– and changed into dry clothes, and by the time everyone else woke up they'd returned to their usual banter while watching morning cartoons, with no one the wiser.
Outside, the rain continued pouring.