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Chapter Text

Hunter doesn’t remember much of his early years. He remembers waking up in a dark room, scared and confused. He was lying down in a bed, covered with blankets. He had looked around the room and noticed a man sitting in a chair with another person standing next to him holding a spear. Both had masks and cloaks, but the man in the chair‘s outfit was much more elegant. His head turned towards Hunter, acknowledging that he’d noticed him with a subtle glance. The man rose from the chair and gestured to the spear-carrying one to leave the room, closing the door behind them.

Hunter shrunk down in the blankets covering him. This man was terrifyingly tall and the mask he wore was adorned with two large antlers that reached skyward. The eye sockets of the mask were empty and though he couldn’t see the man’s eyes, Hunter could almost sense a curiosity emanating from the deep pits. He wasn’t sure how, but Hunter got a strange sense of familiarity for this man, almost as if he’d known him before.

The man approached the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He then reached up and removed the mask he wore. Hunter was immediately soothed by the man’s appearance and kind expression. He was an older man with long graying hair, piercing blue eyes, and what looked to be a scar made of greenish-brown wood? He wasn’t sure.

“Hello, Hunter, I see you’re finally awake again. How are you feeling?” The man’s voice was calm and deep with a rough texture to it. He had a unique accent and intonation. Hunter looked at him, eyes wide and blankets pulled up to his chin.

“I—Good, I think? Who are you?” Hunter replied in a meek voice, eyes wide at the person near him.

“I am Emperor Belos.“ the man, Belos, responded with a smile. “I know all of this must be confusing for you considering you have just woken up in a strange place.”

Belos’ expression suddenly softened even more, his eyebrows knitted together and a small frown playing around his mouth.

“Hunter, I’m sorry to say the reason you’re here is because you were rescued from your home. It was destroyed by wild witches. They burned your village and killed everyone inside, including your parents.”

Belos reached out and placed a hand on Hunter’s cheek, his thumb caressing it softly. The man’s hands were covered in metal gauntlets which were cold against Hunter’s flushed skin. The talons on the gauntlet’s fingertips brushed against his skin, leaving a crawling sensation across his cheek.

“We didn’t have the best relationship, but your parents would’ve entrusted your care to me, should anything have gone wrong. After all, you are my only family left now, my dear nephew.”

Hunter was frozen. There were many things running through Hunter’s mind, from the sudden contact Belos had made with him to what the man had just called him. Learning that a man he had just met was his uncle was not what Hunter had been expecting. He tried recalling what Belos had said happened to him and his parents, but he drew a blank.

The only thing he could remember was the smell of dirt in his nose, him feebly trying to dig through to the surface, and a childish giggle somewhere in the distance. He figured this must be the memory of being trapped in the rubble of his house while the wild witch that burned it was cackling in the distance.

Belos seemed to notice the confusion that was apparent on the young boy’s face, removing his hand from his cheek and instead placing it on the top of his head, the metal fingers gently combing through his hair.

Belos sighed. “I can tell you have questions about what has happened, but I assure you that you are safe here in the castle. The wild witches have been dealt with and the village has been searched for survivors. There’s nothing more we can do.” The man retracted his hand and stood up from the bed, placing his mask back on his face. “Now, with all of that settled, you should get some rest.’ He gave one last glance to Hunter as he exited the room and shut the door softly behind him.

Hunter still had questions unanswered but the weight of exhaustion brought him into a deep sleep riddled with earthen smells and wild witches.

Chapter Text

The long gilded hallways of the castle were bustling with coven scouts on patrols and the occasional coven official on their way to meetings or to supervise training for their specialty of magic.

With all the activity, no one paid much attention to a small blonde boy wearing a smaller version of a scout’s uniform, minus the hooked, bird-like mask. His magenta eyes scanned the hallways as he made his way towards a quieter part of the castle.

Once he made his way past the heavily traveled area, the hallways emptied out and became unsettlingly quiet except for the soft footsteps of the lone child roaming its space. Hunter hurried along the corridor, ignoring the many tapestries and stained glass windows lining the walls, depicting a towering figure with witches bowing at his feet.

Hunter reached a door that led to a stone stairway. Pipes began to line the walls, breaching their stony exterior and winding their way along the passage like the web of a spider. When the boy reached the top of the staircase, he followed a hallway devoid of any doors leading to other spaces like the corridors beneath him. The walls bristled with the pipes, all leading to the other end of the passage.

As he walked, Hunter became aware of the rhythmic noise reaching his ears. It was absent from other areas of the castle, save for this hallway. Hunter reached a point where he had only one way to keep walking: left towards a set of massive wooden doors gilded with the symbol of the Emperor’s Coven as a keyhole. The torches in their wall-sconces crackled and the rhythmic beating grew louder.

The small boy paused in front of the doors. He glanced down at his outfit, adjusting his tunic and brushing off his breeches, ensuring nothing was out of place. His appearance was something he prided himself on keeping neat and orderly, exactly as his uncle wanted it to be.

He gave a light knock on the doors and stepped back as they slowly opened, revealing a cavernous room lined with torches. Though there were many sconces burning, the room still retained a gloomy atmosphere and no warmth emanated from the cracking flames. A truly enormous heart dominated the space, the pipes from the hallway supporting its cadenced beating. The ground was lined in a long green carpet bordered by guards leading to a set of steps, on top of which was perched an impressive golden throne. Even more imposing than the throne itself was the man seated upon it. He wore a black robe, over which he had a pure white cloak lined with golden accents. A brown mantle studded with gold supported the most recognizable feature of the man: his golden mask, ornamented by twin antlers.

Emperor Belos’ empty gaze fixed upon the child as he carefully approached the stairs at the foot of his uncle’s throne. He delicately lowered himself onto one knee, his gaze on the carpet beneath him. There was a rustling as the guards filed out of the room, leaving Hunter alone with the Emperor. Hunter heard more shifting, but he didn’t look up. Only move when instructed to. Though he’d only begun scout training recently, he was still expected to keep up with the older scout trainees. It would be a bad look if the family of the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles was anything less than perfect. Not to mention-

“Hunter, stand.”

The familiar voice of his uncle commanded him to rise from his position. Hunter did so, feet perfectly arranged and hands firmly at his sides; the spitting image of a soldier. The man in front of him removed the mask, exposing his kind face underneath. Though lined with age and graced by deep bags under his eyes, Emperor Belos’ face gave the impression of a grandfatherly figure, albeit excepting for the large green scar bisecting his face diagonally. Hunter had always liked this feature of his uncle, as the scar had a wood grain texture to it. He’d tried bringing this up to his uncle, who’d looked less than pleased and told him to not mention it again. He wasn’t sure why; plenty of people had scars and Hunter thought nothing less of them. Maybe his uncle had bad memories associated with it and didn’t like being reminded of them.

He snapped out of his reverie as his uncle addressed him again.

“What are your tasks for today, as outlined in the schedule I have provided for you?”

Hunter straightened himself up as much as he could and inhaled deeply.

“I am to take part in a training session for combat defense with Instructor Kampf, attend my daily lessons with Professor Schnapps, and participate in a spell casting regiment with you, Emperor.”

“Very good Hunter.”

The boy beamed with joy. His uncle was proud of him! Belos often didn’t congratulate Hunter; he had told him that being praised for doing what you were supposed to could make a witch feel too self-important, making them vulnerable to straying from the Titan’s will.

Belos put his mask back on and gestured towards the doors.

“Now, off to your lessons. Remember that we have our special dinner tonight. I expect you to be ready and arrive early.”

Hunter nodded vigorously. He gave a salute to the emperor and turned to leave. Once the doors closed behind him, he jumped up and down while flapping his hands with excitement. It wasn’t often he had dinner with the emperor; he was a very busy man after all. That being said, Hunter cherished every moment he got to spend with his uncle, as few and far between as they were.

Walking away from the throne room to go to combat training, Hunter felt a sense of relief as the din of the beating heart faded with every step he took.

Chapter Text

The only time Hunter was let outside was during his training sessions with Instructor Kampf. The regular scout training rooms were always full and the blonde child was in special lessons due to the fact that he was in training to become the Golden Guard. The other instructors tended to go easier on him because of his younger age. That was, until his uncle insisted on having him in private lessons with Kampf; a burly demon guard with an underbite and one eye. Hunter was frightened of Kampf’s rough demeanor at first, but he soon found he was able to keep up with the training regiment. Well, most days.

“Again!” Kampf yelled after Hunter failed to repel an attack and took a staff to the knee. Tears nearly sprang to his eyes, but he held them back as he heard his uncle’s voice in his head telling him that to cry was to show weakness. He couldn’t be weak. The next time Kampf made a move, Hunter stepped sideways and stabbed backwards with the staff as the demon sailed past him, spurred on by his momentum. He was rewarded with a grunt of pain emanating from the demon as he rushed past Hunter.

“Better, much better! You actually drew blood this time! Again!”

Hunter and Kampf went at it for another 20 minutes before Hunter was allowed to leave. He changed out of his training uniform and walked quickly into the corridors of the castle, headed towards the cafeteria. He was allotted half an hour for lunch, then he was to head off to Professor Schnapps’ study for his daily lessons. He remembered from his last lesson that his teacher had mentioned he would be learning some of the Boiling Isles’ history with a concentration on important families and figures. Hunter was always excited to learn but he especially enjoyed history, as it reminded him of the times Uncle would tell him stories of his escapades in the Human Realm. These were the rare moments when Belos was generally calm and kind, with a fondness in his voice that carried with it tales of blue skies and cold oceans. Hunter enjoyed these moments, relishing in seeing the tranquility it brought to his uncle’s heavily scarred face, devoid of any harshness he might have as the emperor.

Hunter snagged a table in the corner of the cafeteria and quickly wolfed down his paltry meal of ratworm meat, mashed torn-ups, and Ghoul-Aid. He rushed to return his dish to the kitchen, grab his mask, and make his way to the upper floors for lessons. He pushed past several scouts as he attempted to run up the stairs, pushing his lungs to their limits, as not to be late. He skittered around the corner and forced himself to slow his momentum as he paused in front of the classroom door. He leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath, before he lightly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” A flowery, kind sounding voice met his ears as he pushed in the door and stepped inside the room. At a large oak desk sat a plump older witch with dark, curly hair, chocolate skin, and bright purple eyes peering through a pair of round glasses.

“Good morning, Professor Schnapps” Hunter greeted the witch.

“Good morning to you too, Hunter. Please, have a seat.”

Hunter sat in the middle of the front row of desks, positioned directly in front of Schnapps’ desk for the best view of the chalkboard. As he did, Schnapps neglected to pick up the chalk and begin writing, instead electing to pull a cord above the chalkboard to release a large tapestry. On it were many lines leading to names, some converging into others and becoming large trunks like a tree, others tapering off and ending. There were multiple trees across the woven fabric, a few large and extensively branching, many smaller interconnecting ones, and one…

Hunter saw his name at the base, connecting up to only one branch bearing the emperor’s name. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Despite his entire family being deceased, he thought it odd that they were not included on the tree especially as yes, as his suspicions confirmed, other trees had the deceased ancestors of their living descendents. He recognized a few names here and there, namely the Blights. He had heard of Alador Blight, a man who was considered for Head Witch of the Abominations Coven but who had been rejected in favor of Darius Deamonne.

As he snapped out of his thought process, Hunter realized Professor Schnapps had begun lecturing the whole time and he diverted his whole attention into listening and studying everything she said, occasionally jotting down mental notes to look into later. By the end of the lesson, Schnapps had gone into great detail about all of the trees, minus the one Hunter had been the most curious about. As he stood to leave the room, he approached the witch’s desk and waited to be acknowledged.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I was wondering about my family. You didn’t touch on it at all and I noticed that the tapestry only shows me and the Emperor, but not any of our ancestors.”

Schnapps looked back at the tapestry, scrutinizing it for a moment before turning back to Hunter.

“This was all the information I was given on the families. Perhaps this is a question better directed at the Emperor. I’m sorry I cannot be of more help to you.” She flashed a warm smile before rolling up the tapestry, signaling the end of Hunter’s lesson.

Hunter opened the door and exited into the hallway. He was grateful he had an excuse to talk to Uncle, as he had training with him next. His feet took him to the same hallway as the throne room, just past a tapestry on the wall depicting Belos’ rise to power, a ball of light in one hand as witches and demons bowed at his feet. Hunter found the slot in the masonry where he placed his palm, eliciting a clicking noise from the wall. Bricks separated along a thin fissure and an opening widened, allowing Hunter to pass through.

A narrow, dimly lit corridor stretched out in front of Hunter, gently sloping downwards. At the end of the corridor, he reached a set of spiral stairs jaggedly making their way into a dark abyss. The air in the passage chilled as Hunter descended the stairs. He knew the location was chosen due to its seclusion from the rest of the castle, however Hunter couldn’t help but wonder why he couldn’t practice in a more well-lit, less creepy part of the castle. The dire rats scuttling within the walls did nothing to improve the macabre atmosphere. As his foot hit the last tread of the stairs, he was met with a large wooden door. Placing his mask back on his face and straightening his uniform, Hunter lightly rapped on the door three times, announcing his presence to the man within the chamber.

“Enter.” The voice of the Emperor instructed Hunter to push open the door, stepping inside and standing at attention in front of the tall witch. Hunter watched his uncle’s posture and body language as the man turned towards him, mask lit up by the glow from his staff. The man reached up and removed his mask; a non-verbal signal to Hunter to do the same. He placed his gray scout’s mask on the table off to the side of the chamber, right next to his uncle’s golden one. Both sets of eye sockets stared emptily at the boy, sending shivers down his spine.

He turned back to the emperor, analyzing the man’s face for what kind of mood he would be in. Stoic and blank as usual. Unreadable. Hunter had grown to be able to recognize the subtle movements that would betray this mask of no emotion. A small twitch of an eye, a subtle downturn of the lips, a miniscule furrow of the brow. These were all signs that his uncle was displeased or growing irritated, a signal that Hunter needed to be careful. At the moment, Belos wasn’t showing any of these signs, but Hunter couldn’t let his guard down. The emperor was known for being unpredictable, especially when he was angry.

“How were your lessons today?” Belos asked, a hint of cordiality in his voice.

“Instructor Kampf informed me that I have improved in my drills and that he expects me to train more on my own time in order to better coordinate my attacks. Professor Schnapps said I was engaged in the lesson and has assigned me to research the important families of the Boiling Isles.”

Belos nodded and began to approach Hunter. Hunter stiffened at the movement, bracing himself for any negative repercussions at his words. Instead, he was met with a soft ruffle of his hair. He looked back up to his uncle, his posture becoming less rigid as he noticed a soft smile playing at the corners of Belos’ mouth.

“Very good Hunter. If you keep working hard and doing well in your lessons, you’ll be ready to be my Golden Guard in a few years time.”

Hunter beamed at the praise, leaning into his uncle’s touch. Belos was proud of him, a good sign for the lesson ahead. He was handed a training wand to practice with while his uncle spoke.

“Now, today I will be showing you a defensive spell. Not only should you know how to defend yourself in hand to hand combat without magic, but you should also know spells to combat your adversary. One of the most important ones is a spell that can be used to move your opponent away from you, giving you distance and the ability to calculate your next move. Brace yourself, Hunter”

Belos raised his staff and it glowed a bright red before Hunter was unceremoniously lifted to his feet and thrown across the room, as if grabbed by a large hand. He winced as he hit the cold stone below him, almost certainly gaining a few bruises in the process. He quickly recovered, getting back onto his feet as the emperor addressed him once more.

“I told you to brace yourself. Don’t act hurt if you could have prevented the force of the fall” Belos said sternly.

“M’sorry, uncle. I’ll do better next time” Hunter whispered.

“For your sake, I would hope so.”

The lesson continued with Hunter learning how to properly use defensive spells, nearly hitting his uncle with a blast of magic in the process. He expected a blow for this, however Belos seemed pleased that Hunter was able to produce this result. As their time together drew to a close, Hunter had the question from earlier plaguing his mind, waiting to ask the emperor about it.

“What is it, Hunter?” Belos asked as he noticed the boy standing in front of him, eyes lowered and wringing his hands. He would have to correct that behavior in the future, it was a habit that made the boy look weak.

“Um, so, during my lesson with Professor Schnapps we were learning about prominent families of the Isles and, um, well I was just wondering…um…” Hunter trailed off, nervously wringing his hands even more.

“Spit it out, Hunter. Always speak with conviction.” Belos scolded the boy.

“Why wasn’t our family on the tapestry?”

Belos regarded the boy for a moment before choosing his words carefully, making sure not to reveal too much. This grimwalker was showing promise and he was not keen to expedite the process that would eventually lead to the necessity of scrapping it and starting over again.

“As you already know, our family is gone because of wild magic. It would not be wise to dwell upon the past of what happened. Instead, we must focus on protecting the future and eliminating the dangers which threatened us in the past.”

Hunter furrowed his brow. “But, other families must’ve died because of wild magic and they’re still on the tapestry. Why is it just ours?”

“Because this is how it needs to be, Hunter” Belos’ voice becomes sharper, his eyes narrowing. “Or do I need to recount to you how devastating that the family of the emperor of the Boiling Isles fell to the temptations that the emperor himself is sacrificing his own life to destroy?”

Hunter’s eyes widened in fear. He didn’t mean to upset his uncle, he could only imagine how much the emperor was hurting to have lost his family due to the very thing he was working to destroy.

Belos’ breathing was labored as he waved a hand towards the door.

“Leave, now.”

Hunter grabbed his mask from the table and paused to see if his uncle was alright. He had never seen Belos look as weak as he did now. Hunter approached the man to ask if he needed help, when suddenly the witch clasped his hand to his chest, letting out a groan before collapsing to his knees.

“Uncle!” Hunter yelled and ran to his uncle’s side, not knowing what to do. As he did, a goopy green and brown substance began leaking from Belos’ eyes, his arms morphed into the same substance, rapidly losing their shape. His breath was extremely labored now, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched. His body shook violently as the entirety of his mass destabilized and reformed, sending tendrils of sharpened goop in every direction. Hunter felt a sting on his right cheek as one of the tendrils glanced by him, narrowly missing his head. He collapsed to the ground, slapping his hand over his cheek, paralyzed by fear over what was happening.

Before his eyes, Hunter saw the writhing green-brown mass that was his uncle form into a towering beast. It was large and skeletal, limbs dripping with goop. Its head was that of a skull, crowned by a mane of gray hair and two large antlers akin to the ones on Belos’ mask. The worst part of the creature was the numerous eyes dotted along its form, glowing a vicious blue. The empty sockets of the eyes on the monster’s head were only visible due to two pricks of blue light from within, both trained on Hunter. The beast emitted a low growling noise, reverberating around the cavernous room and making the hair stand up on Hunter’s neck.

Hunter slowly tried to approach the monster, but was met with a large green hand sending him flying back into the wall and pinning him there. Hunter squeezed his eyes shut as he felt drips of the monster’s goop splash on his face as it deafeningly roared in Hunter’s face, the hot, rotten smelling breath making Hunter want to vomit. Then, he felt the hand grasping him retract as he plummeted to the ground. He lay there for a few moments, collecting his thoughts before he was met with the sound of footsteps approaching him. A rustle of fabric and a cold metal hand grasping his chin made Hunter open his eyes to see his uncle back in his normal form, looking disheveled and exhausted, but with his usual face and expression.

“Get out of my sight and go fix that up on your own. We will have words about this.”

Hunter wasted no time before he ran out of the room, rushing to get back to his bedroom where he would spend the next two hours stitching the wound and worrying about his uncle.

Chapter Text

Hunter laid on his bed watching the sun disappear beneath the horizon. He cuddled the pink stuffed frog he kept beneath his pillow, rubbing the frog’s soft arm along the uninjured side of his face. The sticky remnants of tears collected in the toy’s soft fleece before fresh ones quickly took their place. Hunter felt a swell of confusing emotions overwhelm him as he curled in his body tighter, attempting to stifle the sobs that were wracking it.

Why did I ask him? Now Uncle’s mad at me. I hurt him and he’s…he…the monster’s gonna hurt me again!

Hunter’s thoughts spiraled in his head; an unstoppable torrent of worry, fear, sadness, and confusion. He didn’t mean to cause Belos any harm, he just wanted answers. He’d always wondered why he hadn’t been told anything about his parents. He knew they’d been killed by wild witches, or at the very least, wild magic. Uncle said it was dangerous and Hunter understood but…

I just wanna know what they were like. My mommy and daddy. I wanna know what I’ll look like when I’m older. What they were like. Did they love me? Why would they do wild magic if they loved me?

Hunter had a sinking feeling. People who loved their children didn’t do dangerous things like practice wild magic. Maybe it was better that he didn’t have his parents around anymore. He was safer with Belos. After all, the emperor had made the promise to protect him. Uncle was the only one that cared for Hunter and...oh

I ruined it. I made him mad. It’s my fault.

As Hunter began crying again, there was a light knock on his bedroom door.
“Go away!”

“Little Prince?”

Hunter shot upright and wiped the tears away from his face.

“Darius?”

The door opened to reveal a witch dressed in purple and pink, his hair and beard made of a gelatinous purple substance that seemed to dance. The most striking features of the witch, though, were his striking emerald eyes and dark skin. Darius walked over to Hunter’s bed and sat down at the end of it, studying the small child in front of him. His brows furrowed as he saw the state of the boy’s face.

“What happened?”

Hunter’s magenta eyes flashed with fear before he looked down at his lap, fiddling with the arms of the frog plushie.

“I made Uncle mad.”

Those four words sparked a flame in Darius. How dare that bastard touch a hair on this child’s head! No reason could ever justify hurting a child. Darius supposed he wasn’t surprised to have confirmation on the one responsible for the child’s injury; Belos was a disgustingly cruel dictator who was responsible for the deaths of many who had opposed him. A memory flashed in Darius’ mind unbidden. A familiar laugh and that kind face with their striking magenta colored eyes.

No. He’s dead. There’s nothing you can do about it now. For his sake, protect this one.

His anger and urge to snap Belos’ neck fizzled away when he glanced back at the boy. He wanted to comfort the child and tell him everything was going to be fine, that no one was going to hurt him, and that he’d be safe, but Darius couldn’t make that empty promise to an innocent child. He knew not to meddle in affairs that concerned the emperor, else he’d end up in the courtyard as a statue. Still, he was going to do everything in his power to protect the kid as much as he could.

“Hunter, I-”

Darius was cut off by a quick rap on the door. He groaned as he stood to his feet and cracked the door open. He didn’t see anyone in front of the door but before he could close it he heard a small cough from below him. Darius looked down to see a small red demon with a blue hand for hair, covering one eye.

“Kikimora.”

“Head Witch. Is the child in there with you?” Kikimora asked in her girlish voice.

“Yes. What do you need with him?” Darius asked suspiciously, not trusting of the little demon who was notoriously fiercely loyal to the emperor, following after the tyrant like a little dog nipping at his heels. Though, if Darius was to be honest, the image of Belos kicking Kikimora like the little puppy she was did amuse him greatly. She’d certainly deserve it.

“Head Witch, the Emperor has requested to see his nephew. I trust that you will be able to accompany the young one to ensure he arrives on time? The emperor does not appreciate tardiness.”

“I’m well aware, Kikimora. Rest assured, I will deliver the boy properly.”

Kikimora turned on her heel with a small “hmmf”, stalking back into the corridor. Darius was glad she didn’t request to accompany Hunter herself, as he was certain she would attempt to do something to the child out of spite for him someday being her superior.

Darius gently took Hunter’s hand and guided him to the door, gently reassuring him that he was going to be fine. As they made their way towards the emperor’s private chambers, Darius couldn’t help but reflect on his mentor’s death. He didn’t like to dwell upon it, as it caused him much anguish; however, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his mentor whenever he was in the little prince’s presence. How those same magenta eyes looked at him with as much adoration as his mentor once did. It gave him an eerie feeling that somehow, the child and his mentor were connected.

Darius’ thoughts were put on hold as he reached a more secluded part of the castle. The doors in front of him were guarded by two scouts, each with massive spears. As he approached, the two guards stood to attention.

“State your business.”

“I’m here to deliver the child to the Emperor, as requested.”

The two scouts gestured for Hunter to follow them as they unlocked the door. The boy glanced back at Darius, mouthing a silent goodbye before the doors were closed, blocking him from Darius’ view.

Chapter Text

In a secluded part of the castle, a small boy walked between two armed guards through an ornate corridor. His heart beat fast, sweat coating his palms under his gloves. The guards led him to a heavy door which they unlocked, pushing him through to the other side before relocking it behind him, leaving the boy alone in the new corridor. This hallway was an intersection to several short passageways, each ending in a reinforced door. Few were privileged to see the inner chambers of the Empire; those belonging to the Emperor himself. Hunter took stock of each of the hallways, remembering where each led. The far left led to the Emperor’s own personal quarters, up a flight of stairs into a tower. The far right was his uncle’s study and workshop, a place he was allowed in under rare circumstances. In front of him was the place he was destined for: the dining chamber.

Hunter tapped on the door and it swung open after he lifted his knuckles from the wood. He padded inside, his pupils shrinking as brighter light hit his eyes. Above his head was a large golden chandelier glittering with many gems and flickering candles providing light. In front of him was a massive table made of dark wood with several ornate chairs lining its edges. At the head of the table was a large gilded chair in which sat the Emperor. He had changed out of his robes into his more “casual” outfit of a simple tunic and breeches, though he still wore the metal gauntlets on his hands. His hair was tied up in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck by a black ribbon, a few loose strands framing his face.

“Sit.” The emperor commanded the boy to take the chair to his right, plates of steaming food already set on the table. Hunter carefully pulled the chair out and sat, back straight, knife and fork in their proper positions, just as Uncle had taught him.

“A true gentleman always knows the proper etiquette whilst dining. As my nephew it is imperative that you hold a fine example for others to look to.” Hunter loved his uncle but he wished Belos could stop being so…proper sometimes. All Hunter wished for was just a few hours with just his uncle and him together, acting like a family and not an emperor and his ward.

Don’t be selfish. Uncle does so much for you. He’s already treating you just by allowing you to dinner after-

“I want to talk to you about what happened earlier.”

Oh no. Hunter’s eyes raised from his plate where he had been busy slicing the slitherbeast steak. He managed to look into his uncle’s eyes and was surprised to see that they were softened and tired looking.

“I’m sure you were worried about me this whole time, am I correct?” Belos inquired, receiving a solemn nod from the child. “Well,” he continued, “I suppose I have a few things I need to tell you. Hunter, I haven’t been completely honest with you. What you saw today was…my curse.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in shock. His uncle? Cursed? He was the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles, there was no way he’d let himself be cursed. Even if he was, how hasn’t it been cured yet?

“I was cursed by wild witches while I was trying to defend others against their evil ways. This curse causes me great anguish. I can’t always control it. That monster you saw…was me. It causes me to lash out at others when it is provoked, angered, or when I am particularly tired. It’s extremely painful for me and I have no way to reign it in except for the palismen.”

Hunter looked confused. “Aren’t palismen made from wild magic? I thought you said they were dangerous?”

“Yes, they are. But they are the only thing that relieves the curse and makes it more…tame. Although I don’t relish the fact that I have to use wild magic to contain more wild magic, by draining the palismen of their souls, I am ridding the Isles of wild magic whilst gaining the benefit of control over my curse.”

“So the curse got mad that I was asking about our family cause it was hurting you.”

“Yes”

“So the curse hurt me”

“You know I don’t mean to hurt you. But when you don’t listen and obey my guidance, I have no choice. You made the curse emerge by asking fruitless questions.”

Hunter looked down at his plate. He felt awful that his uncle had to not only deal with a debilitating curse on top of being emperor, but that he was reminded of a painful memory because of his nephew.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I won’t ask about it again.”

Belos studied the boy for a moment before allowing a small, thin-lipped smile to cross his face.

“Very good. Eat up before your dinner gets cold.”

Chapter Text

The last rhythm of each week was one of the less busy days in the Emperor’s Coven. Scouts still had patrol and missions, but training and lessons were kept to the weekrhythms. As such, a lot of the day was spent doing absolutely nothing, as long as you maintained the guise of being busy with work when the superiors were watching. While many scouts mingled and snuck onto Penstagram, a small figure wove their way through the castle halls. Hunter had woken up at his usual time of 6am, gotten down to the cafeteria for a quick breakfast, and had grabbed his notebook in order to go study in the library.

He made his way to a corner in the library with a big, squishy armchair next to a window where sunlight could filter through. He knew he’d be safe doing some research here, as the books that lined the shelves were all covered in dust. Many bore titles that were obviously telling of the information contained in their pages. These books would be highly forbidden outside the castle and extremely restricted within it. Hunter pulled a few of the books off the shelves, picking the ones with interesting titles and a few that contained the information he needed. He stuck the books on wild magic under his notebook; he’d stash them under the loose floorboard in his room later.

It’s fine to read about wild magic if I’m just studying it to better help defend others against its temptation. I’m not breaking any rules by doing this, right?

Hunter furrowed his brow at the thought of disobeying his uncle’s wishes. He had told Hunter that wild magic was the reason for their family’s…disappearance. And Uncle’s curse.

I have to help him. He won’t be mad that I studied wild magic if I cure him.

Hunter opened up a thick tome about curses and set to scanning the contents. The book was well organized into sections based on the type of curse, how it manifests, and how it affects the afflicted. It also contained possible cures based on what curse was applicable. Hunter smiled to himself. He had all day to try and figure it out so he could get a cure for his uncle.

Noncorporeal…no, it definitely has a form…corporeal, yes…beast.

Hunter flipped to a section in the book and began reading, his finger tracking the words as he read.

Beast curses can manifest in many forms. Some are tied to emotion, while others result when the afflicted is low on energy. They can form solid, beast-like forms, or can be ever-shifting, able to take many different forms. Beast curses are particularly difficult to manage, even more difficult to cure. Many can be managed with elixirs, but often the efficacy of these elixirs will decrease over time, leading to a tolerance of the treatment and a need for more elixirs over time.

Hunter frowned. Uncle’s curse certainly fit the description of a shape-shifting beast curse tied to emotion. He had noticed the increased amount of palismen the emperor had been needing as of late, leading him to have a sinking feeling that a cure may not be able to be found.

No, I have to help him. Even if it takes a long time, I have to help him.

Hunter scribbled down a few notes in his notebook about what he had just read and continued flipping through the pages. He winced at many of the descriptions and illustrations of curses. They all looked extremely painful, the faces of the witches in the illustrations contorted in agony as their skin bubbled, ripped, contorted, or peeled away. Hunter felt sick at the thought of what his uncle must have to endure during his transformations.

One passage caught Hunter’s attention in particular, as he continued past the gruesome descriptions.

The use of palismen to aid a witch’s affliction has been suggested in the past, as palistrom wood provides incredible healing abilities, as well as granting the user additional magic. Historically, witches with defective bile sacs, or those with absent bile sacs, sometimes received transfusions of palisman essence to provide a small amount of magic. However, as the collection and usage of palismen is, to many, considered unethical as well as the relative rarity of palistrom wood, many professionals advise against this practice. Further research into this area of magic is strictly forbidden, as it violates laws of witch rights and safety.

Hunter slammed the book closed, louder than he would have wanted. He felt tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes. Why would his uncle attempt something so dangerous if this was the result?

Maybe he didn’t know. He probably just heard that palismen can heal and give more magic. Is this why he’s so powerful? Because he takes the palismen’s magic for himself? But it does help him.

Hunter wanted to ask his uncle why he did what he did, however then Belos would know he’d been studying wild magic. Hunter supposed that this was the price for being the messenger of the Titan’s will; all the power of the Isles but at the cost of your body’s stability. Hunter didn’t understand why Uncle had made that sacrifice, though, if he thought about it, the danger of what wild magic could do to the Isles must outweigh any personal risk taken by the emperor.

Sacrificing yourself for the greater good. For the safety of others.

Hunter felt a swell of pride and admiration for his uncle. He was the strongest and bravest witch Hunter had ever known if he was willing to sacrifice himself to others. He understood why Belos was so popular and why his reign as Emperor had never been challenged. That day, Hunter made up his mind that he wanted to do everything he could to support his uncle. It was the Titan’s will.

Chapter Text

Miles away from the castle within the decaying head of a Titan, a figure materialized within a cramped, root covered chamber. A table lay against one wall, a skeleton missing countless bones upon it, half covered by a sheet. Around him were many dirt-filled pits, diagrams of witchlike figures with bright magenta eyes, and tables filled with reams of books and journals. Stuck into one of the books was a wicked looking dagger with a crooked blade. Propped up on the journals was a round tablet with a crescent moon etched into its surface.

Belos approached the tablet, placing his index finger upon its surface. Black wisps began emerging from within the tablet, forming into the figure of a small child with a moon-shaped face. They performed a few stretches and cartwheels before giggling and addressing the old man in their presence.

“Hey Belos! Been a while since you’ve come to visit me! Too busy dealing with that grimwalker I see! Y’know, if it’s not behaving itself you can always just make a new one!”

“No, this one shows promise. It was eaten up with grief at my condition. I need that kind of dedication for it to last until the Day of Unity.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun! How long did the previous one last for? 5 years? I wanna play with them sooner!”

“I can’t risk making another so soon. Besides, I quite like the results of this one. It bears an uncanny resemblance.”

“Fine, you’re sooooooooooo boring. But I’ll be waiting for you to decide you’re done playing with it and then I can have my fun.”

“Of course, Collector. You have my word.”

Belos sighed as he paced away from the star child. Dealing with two children at the same time plus an entire empire was taking its toll on the old witch hunter. Living for centuries was not without its costs. He’d been burning through palismen since he lost control in front of the Grimwalker a few days prior. He’d need to order the capture of more before the stocks were depleted again.

“Hey Belos!”

Belos glared at the petulant child, beginning to lose patience with them.

“I’ve told you before, Collector, to refer to me as Philip while it is just us two.”

“Alright, fine, Philip. I was just gonna ask why you’ve made this grimwalker so young. I mean, does it really make a difference whether they’re grown at 6 or 16? Isn’t it better to have them older so they can be Golden Guard sooner?”

The witch hunter glanced at the shadowy being before making his way over to the pile of books, plucking the dagger from them and beginning to toy with it.

“While it is true that growing them as adults makes it more convenient, it also expedites their betrayal. Once they reach a certain age, they begin to have doubts which leads to them opposing my wishes in secret, causing me to have to dispose of them. No, from what I’ve gleaned over years of experimentation, having a younger grimwalker allows for more time to ensure it remains loyal for as long as possible. I just have to tell it that ‘the Titan has big plans’ for it and it does what it’s told. I could beat it black and blue and it’d still come crawling back to me.”

He let a small smirk cross his face, chuckling to himself. The ‘accident’ with Hunter proved this to the witch hunter. Raising them young was the best way to go about enacting his plans for these sinful creatures. Everything was in place for the draining spell and his triumphant return to the Human Realm, where he’d be welcomed back as a hero: the great Witch Hunter General.

“You’re so twisted. You’re like a slitherbeast; you play with your food before you kill it.” The child let out a cackle. “I can’t wait for the Day of Unity. This is gonna be so much fun!”

A rare laugh escaped Belos’ lips, cold and emotionless. He replaced the dagger to its sheath within the book before turning to the skeleton laying on the table. Fondness crept into his eyes before being replaced by a hard, determined look as memories of who it belonged to replayed in his mind. He felt the curse begin to writhe under his skin, propelled by his hatred for the witches and what they had taken from him. He was going to make the witches pay for what they had done to his brother. He’d avenge Caleb and burn the Isles to the ground. After all, witches were meant to burn in Hell, were they not? And he’d be watching as he tossed the torch onto the pyre.

Chapter Text

“And over here you have the cafeteria. Make sure you get in line early, otherwise all the good food will be gone. Follow me, I’ll show you to your dorms. Training begins tomorrow at first light. Woe be upon anyone who is late.”

A line of young, new scouts-in-training shuffled awkwardly behind a tall, burly captain. For many, this was their dream; to be a part of the most exclusive coven in the system, to get the chance to serve the emperor and to aid him in carrying out the will of the Titan. The new scouts had yet to receive their uniforms, still dressed in a medley of clothing. They all looked shabby and disheveled. They’d soon be whipped into shape by the rigorous training and enforced rules.

Many would drop out on their own volition. Many more would flunk out of training. Only the best and the brightest could ever hope they would make it to be full blown scouts, as long as they were able to survive the elder scouts’ hazing. It was survival of the fittest in the Emperor’s Coven; a ratworm eat ratworm society. But those who make it would find a pseudo-family within the coven, a place where like-minded individuals could exist and aid one another.

These were the kind of thoughts gracing the minds of each new recruit. One in particular was extremely enthusiastic. Joining the Emperor’s Coven had been a lifelong dream for him and he wanted to make sure he set a good example for his baby brother. No doubt about it, Steve Tholomule would be one of the greatest scouts.

Each prospective scout was led to their dorm, shared by three other new scouts. Bunks were laid against each wall and four small closets were placed next to each set near the door. The quarters would be extremely cramped but then again, the scouts would be busy with training all day, so it was really just a place to sleep.

“Kane, Xenos! Tempest, Konrad! Crane, Oberon! Tholomule, Steven! Room 524!” The lead captain barked out names and room numbers as they moved down the corridor. Each group of four scrambled into the room, calling dibs on bunks while quickly getting their scarce belongings situated. Steve filed into the room last; he didn’t mind though. Let the others pick first. A burly, dark-skinned witch with flaming orange hair neatly woven into rows stuck out his hand towards Steve.

“Xenos Kane. Nice to meet you!”

“Steve Tholomule. How ya doin’?”

“Not bad. You guys gonna introduce yourselves?”

Xenos looked over to the two remaining witches. The taller of the two with pale skin, amber eyes, and long brown hair introduced himself as Konrad Tempest. The last one was a shorter, plumper demon with red skin, horns, and a tail. He also had a small mustache.

“I’m Oberon Crane. Y’might know my uncle, Scooter. Head of the Bard Coven?”

Steve couldn’t believe his ears. He was rooming with the nephew of one of the coven heads?

Xenos looked confused. “I thought relatives of current scouts and officials weren’t allowed to join? I mean, they separated the Clawthorne sisters. Probably for the better though, seeing how the Owl Lady is now.”

“Yeah I thought so too but they let me join. ‘Sides, I hear the Golden Guard in training is the Emperor’s nephew. Kid is only, like, 7 or something.” Oberon responded.

“Isn’t that nepotism?” Konrad asked.

“Listen, when you’re the most powerful man on the Isles, I don’t think anyone’s gonna question your choices, nepotism or not.” Oberon supplied. It was best not to question the Emperor’s decisions, lest you wanted to end up on his bad side.

“Scouts! I want you to change into your uniform and be ready for inspection in 10 minutes!” the Captain yelled from out in the hallway.

“Well, I guess we’d better hurry. Don’t wanna miss dinner after all!” Steve joked.

“We’re getting presented in front of the Emperor” someone from the next room over answered.

“WHAT?!” All four yelled in unison. “That’s…oh shit. Hurry up guys. Out of all the things I was expecting today, this was not one of them.” Steve rambled. He’d always wanted to meet the Emperor; ever since he was a little kid he had seen the man as a role model for what a true witch should be like. But to have to actually be in his presence under scrutiny? That was extremely nerve-wracking.

Konrad was the first to finish, standing against the wall outside the door. Steve followed, flanked by Oberon and Xenos.

“Scouts! Attention!” All the scouts stood to attention, some more effectively than others.
“About-face! March!” In unison, though rather sloppily, all the scouts turned to form a line and marched behind the captain. They were led through all the dormitory corridors to a central stairway where they were dumped out into the main hall. They were then led to another stairway, much narrower than the last, which spit them out into an elegant hallway lined with tapestries. As each scout filed into the corridor they noticed two things: one, the maze of pipes running along the walls, and two, a rhythmic beating coming from further down the corridor. This beating got louder as they marched towards a massive set of doors.

The captain paused in front of the doors, turning to face the new scouts.

“We are about to enter the throne room so that Emperor Belos may inspect you all. You are to file into the room and split to the left or the right. Stand at attention, heads bowed, hands behind your back. You do not speak unless spoken to, you do not move until instructed to. Understand?”

There was a murmur of agreement.

“For Titan’s sake, we’ve got a lot of work to do. You are to properly address your superiors by saying “Yes, sir”. Now, do you all understand?”

“Yes, sir!”

The captain turned around once again and gave a resounding knock on the door. The heavy door swung open with a creak and the scouts walked inside. Steve tried not to gaze around in wonderment at the cavernous room, however it was hard to ignore the truly enormous heart and the elegant throne in front of him. He filed off to the left with Oberon while Xenos and Konrad went to the right. He quickly stood to attention as he took in the sight of the throne and the man sitting upon it.

To Belos’ right was the head of the coven, Lilith, a raven haired woman with piercing green eyes. She stepped forward and addressed the scouts.

“Welcome, scouts. You will soon be embarking on a great journey. I hope most of you will make it, though be warned, the trials it takes to become a scout will not be easy and many will fail. Now, with that out of the way, I would like to introduce our esteemed ruler, the Voice of the Titan, Emperor Belos!”

Belos stood from his throne and walked slowly down the stairs, stopping in front of the row of scouts.

“Remove your masks.”

There was a rustle as each scout took off the bird-shaped mask and tucked it under their arm, returning to position. Each could feel Belos’ eyes scrutinizing their faces, desperately trying to avoid the emperor’s gaze. He paused in front of a few scouts for a few extra seconds before moving down the line. When he reached Oberon, he finally addressed a scout directly.

“Name?”

“Oberon Crane, sir.”

“Ah, I was wondering when you’d join. Your uncle has been singing praises about you. Let’s hope you live up to that, hm?”

“I-uh, yes. Yes, sir”

Belos continued along the line of scouts before returning to his throne.

“Well you’re all satisfactory enough, I suppose. Although the captain will get you to the standard expected from this coven.”

The subtle threat in his words did not go unnoticed by many. It wasn’t a request or even an order. It was a demand, with no room for failure.

“Captain, these scouts are dismissed. You may begin your training regiment.”

“Thank you, sir. I will do as you have asked.”

“Very good. I am always keen to see how my commanders handle fresh meat.”

Steve felt himself shiver at the emperor’s words as he marched out of the throne room. Fresh meat. That’s all they were in the eyes of the beast. A beast that was never satiated.

Chapter Text

The early morning sun filtered through a stained glass window, casting many-colored hues of light onto a polished tile floor. The hallways of the castle were relatively deserted; only a few scouts hurried along the silent corridors, making their way to training rooms or the library to study. A soft padding of feet interrupted the quiet as a small boy walked along, his cape dragging along the ground, heels of his boots clicking against the tile.

Today was a very important day for Hunter. It was the first time he would be attending a meeting and meeting the Coven Heads. He already knew Darius well, and he had heard of Scooter Crane and Eberwolf, but the other six were a mystery. He’d also be responsible for retaining the information that he overheard in the meeting; Belos didn’t have time to handle the full set of paperwork that came with the meeting. Hunter wondered why Kikimora or Lilith couldn’t take care of it all by themselves, but Hunter figured that his uncle probably wanted him to learn how to work together with the other coven members. After all, in a few years, he’d be their superiors.

Hunter reached the meeting room early, but he did not enter. He had been instructed to wait until the others arrived and were let in by Lilith. His keen ears picked up on several pairs of footsteps approaching him. He saw two figures round the corner. One was a tall, elderly woman with what looked like plants for hair, dressed in green. The other was an even taller elegant-looking man with fangs and a tail, wearing light blue. Hunter knew that the Coven Heads often wore the color that corresponded with their covens, so he supposed these two must be the Plant and Illusion Coven Heads. As they approached him, Hunter stuck out his hand.

“Hello, I’m Hunter, the future Golden Guard!”

The woman gave him a sugary smile. “Yes, I’ve heard much about you, sprout. I am Terra Snapdragon, Plant Coven, and this is Adrian Graye Vernworth, Illusions.”

“Yes, pleasure to meet you too. So tell me how is it that a five-year-old is supposed to be the Golden Guard? Can you even read?” Adrian said with a sneer.

“Yes I can, and I’m seven, actually.” Hunter retorted.

Both heads burst out laughing, making Hunter’s cheeks turn pink.

“Is there a problem here?”

Darius, flanked by who must be Eberwolf, strolled into view.

“Oh, no. Terra and I were simply introducing ourselves to the little prince.”

Hunter winced. Darius was the only other person to call him a little prince, yet it sounded wrong coming from Adrian.

“Greetings, everyone.” A kindly voice, emitting from a demon with horns and a mustache, said. Scooter Crane was followed by a person with a tall hat, a tall, buff woman, an older man, and a man with a hard hat.

‘Hello to you too, Scooter.” said Terra.

“Well, well, this must be the young Golden Guard. You’re a very handsome young man” Scooter praised. Hunter’s cheeks flushed. He let himself smile a little, immediately feeling as if he could trust the Bard.

“Thank you, Mister Crane.”

“So polite too. Now, any idea where Lilith might be? My old bones are killing me.”

As if on cue, the raven-haired woman walked into view, inserting a key into the lock. Each Coven Head took a respected seat, labeled with the sigil of their respected coven. Hunter saw a large chair at the head of the table, and a smaller chair next to it. He supposed this was most likely for him, though he couldn’t make assumptions; it was Kikimora-sized as well.

Heavy footsteps echoed from outside the meeting room, which he immediately recognized as his uncle’s. His uncle strolled regally into the room, followed closely by Kikimora. The small demon pulled the chair at the head of the table out for Belos to sit, struggling to push it closer to the table once he was seated. A few audible snickers could be heard from several of the Coven Heads. Hunter had an urge to laugh as well, but he held it back.

“Sit, Hunter.” Belos commanded while pointing to the chair next to him. So Hunter was right. He would get to sit beside his uncle. Belos passed him a notebook and a pencil. Without saying a word, Hunter understood that he was responsible for taking notes.

“Now that we’re all situated, we can begin. Lilith, the quarterly summary, if you would.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Lilith passed a large ream of papers to Belos as the emperor began speaking about finances and other information from the last few months. Hunter struggled to write everything down, as his uncle used many words he’d never heard before. He made his best approximation on many of them; after all, he didn’t want to disappoint Belos.

Hunter’s focus was broken by the sight of Terra and Adrian leaning into one another and whispering. Hunter felt a twinge of anger. They were being disrespectful in the presence of the emperor. He then noticed Hettie Cutburn drawing one of her scalpels from her belt. She stealthily, though not stealthily enough for Hunter, stabbed Adrian in the thigh. The man let out a gasp, followed by a hiss of air. Terra raised her hands, casting a spell circle that caused thorny vines to spring from the floor. Darius’ Abomination goop circled his arms, and Eberwolf raised their hackles. Belos finally looked up from the stack of papers, eyes slightly glowing.

“Is there a problem, Head Witch Graye?”

Adrian grimaced while speaking through clenched teeth. “No, my lord. No problem at all.”

The emperor regarded him with a glare before continuing on with his report, all the Coven Heads relaxing in the process. Hunter wondered why Adrian was stabbed, and why everyone reacted to it with force. Hunter put it out of his mind as he refocused on taking notes.

After the meeting concluded, Hunter approached Hettie and whispered to her.

“Miss Cutburn, why’d you stab Mister Adrian?”

“Cause he was being an ass!” Vitimir, the Potion Head said loudly.

“What does that mean?” Hunter questioned.

“Nothing that you need to worry about, little prince,” Adrian sneered. “Just go run along to the Emperor and let the grownups deal with this.”

Hunter’s ears drooped as he watched the Coven Heads exit the room. Kikimora, Lilith, and Belos were the only three to remain in the room. Belos stood from his chair, audibly letting out a groan as his joints creaked. Hunter made a mental note to grab a palisman after they left.

“Lilith, Kikimora. You are dismissed.” Belos said curtly. The two women nodded and left the room, shutting the door behind them. Hunter immediately tensed up as the emperor approached him, though he relaxed some when the man removed his mask.

“You did well today, Hunter. I’ll have to have you be my scribe for all the meetings from now on.”

Hunter beamed. His uncle trusted him to take notes. He’d done a good job.

“Uncle, can I ask a question?”

“May.”

“What?”

“It’s may, Hunter. May I ask a question.”

“Oh, right. May I ask a question? Uncle?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why did everyone get mad at Mister Adrian? I asked Miss Cutburn why she stabbed him, but Mister Vitimir said he was being an-”

“Don’t cuss.”

“Huh?”

“Those types of words are not appropriate for a seven-year-old to say. The Titan forbids cursing as well.”

“So then why do adults say them? If they’re bad, they shouldn’t say them!”

“Most are not as dedicated to the Titan as you and I. Don’t worry, my boy. They will receive their due judgment on the Day of Unity.”

Hunter looked down at his feet. It didn’t seem fair that he had all these rules that he had to follow while most adults could do as they please. Then again, they weren’t the family of the emperor. It was for the best that he was being led in the right direction. He wanted to be in good graces with the Titan.

“Come along, Hunter,” Belos said while replacing his mask. He extended his hand to Hunter, who took it. “We have things to do.” The two walked out of the room, hand in hand, an emperor and his nephew.

Chapter Text

Sunset fell over the Isles, engulfing it in hues of pink and orange. The night sky quickly followed, announcing to many creatures that this was the time to emerge. Nights in the Boiling Isles were never quiet. Creatures of all kinds made noises in the darkness, and many witches and demons stayed out late into the wee hours of dawn.

This was sharply contrasted by the dead silence that lingered in the Emperor’s castle. Strict schedules were followed, and every scout was to be in their dorm by a certain hour. Only the night patrol was allowed outside, leaving the corridors deserted and silent. Within one of these corridors, in a room sequestered from most of the castle, a small child was trying to sleep.

Hunter allowed himself to go to bed early, despite his normal bedtime routine of pulling out his favorite book from under the loose floorboard. Despite the fact that he had to hide the book, From Bones to Earth: A Study of Wild Magic comforted him and pulled him into peaceful sleep. Tonight, however, the book had not helped him.

The small boy whimpered as he slept, curling and uncurling his fists while gripping his stuffed pink frog. Though he didn’t often have nightmares, the ones he did have were recurring and very vivid.

In his dream, Hunter was in the underground training room again, practicing spells with his uncle. It started off innocuous enough, a nice dream where he got to spend time with his uncle. However, the same event replayed in his mind, causing his dream to become dark. He saw the emperor bend over and clutch his chest, face contorted with agony. Hunter ran over to help his uncle, but his flailing form lashed out and hit Hunter in the cheek. He managed to get close enough to his uncle, grabbing a palisman from the table beside him and holding it out to the emperor. Despite his small size, Hunter cracked it open and allowed the fumes to waft towards his uncle.

The emperor’s form solidified some, but not into his normal form. Instead he grew larger, a roar of agony ripping from his throat as he fully transformed into the beast. Hunter backed away with fear as the monster locked its eyes on him and growled. But, before it could attack him again and pin him to the wall like what had happened in real life, the beast doubled over and clutched its head, rocking slightly. It panted heavily from the effort of maintaining its form, and it began whimpering in pain.

Hunter approached his uncle’s monstrous form, delicately reaching out a hand to the creature's face. He was met with empty, black eye sockets.

“Uncle?” Dream Hunter asked, while holding the beast under its jaw.
The beast stopped whining for a moment, before roaring in Hunter’s face, causing the boy to back up. The beast began flailing around once more, its claws tearing at its flesh. Hunter backed away even more as his uncle continued struggling with the curse, roaring one last time, before collapsing to the ground, body still.

Hunter rushed over to his uncle’s prone form, completely disregarding his own safety. He shook his uncle, tears flowing down his cheeks. His uncle didn’t move, and Hunter couldn’t hear any signs of breathing or a heartbeat. He stopped shaking him, instead wrapping his arms around his form, not caring about the slimy texture beneath his fingers. He felt a surge-

Hunter awoke, tears readily flowing down his face, making hiccuping sobs as he clutched his toy frog closer. He wasn’t fully back to reality, as his mind told him that his uncle was dead and that it was his fault for upsetting him. Hunter jumped off his bed, still clutching the frog, and made his way to the door.

The small boy walked quickly through the silent halls towards the emperor’s chambers. Hunter wasn’t allowed in his uncle’s chamber without permission, but he wasn’t of a sound mind to remember. All he cared about was making sure his uncle was safe.He reached the door, still guarded by scouts.

“Kid, what’re you doing here?”

Hunter hiccupped “Un-uncle. I wanna-I wanna see…uncle. Nightmare!”

The scouts bent down and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him. “Kid, it’s ok. It was a bad dream. It’s not real. The Emperor is safe, he’s alright.”

Hunter sobbed even harder. “I want Uncle!” he screamed, more tears escaping his eyes.

The scouts exchanged glances. “What do we do? Belos won’t be pleased if we wake him up, but like, I’m lost on what to do with the kid!” One scout unlocked the door and took Hunter’s hand, leading him inside. They walked to the door that led up to Belos’ sleeping quarters and knocked lightly on the door.

“Sir, your nephew had a nightmare. We tried calming him down but he won’t stop crying about needing you.”

Silence met them from inside. The scout continued holding Hunter’s hand, squeezing it lightly in an effort to provide some comfort. Finally, from under the crack in the door, light seeped out. The door handle flexed, allowing the door to open a crack, not wide enough to show anything inside the room.

“Hunter.” The emperor said groggily, his voice rough and deep from lack of use. “Scout, leave us.”

“Yes, sir.” They walked away.

“Come here, Hunter.” The door opened for Hunter to walk through, and was shut behind him. Belos was wearing a similar outfit to his more casual uniform, minus shoes and the metal gauntlets. His hair was slightly mussed, and his eyes looked glazed over with exhaustion.

“What makes you think you can bother me in the middle of the night?” Belos asked, a slight edge of anger in his voice.

Hunter shrunk down. “Cause I had a nightmare.”

“And you couldn’t just go back to sleep? Hunter, you’re too old for this. Stop acting childish.” Belos reprimanded.

But I am a child, Hunter thought.

Belos huffed, maintaining a frown on his face, his patience wearing thin. “Well, what did you have a nightmare about?”

Hunter recounted his nightmare to Belos, not sparing a single detail, fingers raking through the fleece on his toy.

“And-and then…” Hunter started crying again, to Belos’ disdain. “And then you died!” Hunter wailed slightly.

Belos, against his better judgment and will, pulled the child towards himself, wrapping his arms around the shaking form of his nephew. Hunter immediately buried his face in the crook of Belos’ neck, his hands grasping the emperor’s shirt. Belos frowned slightly, his body stiff at having the child weep on him. He put his hand on the back of Hunter’s head, fingers tousling the soft strands of hair.

“Uncle, please don’t die. I-I don’t wanna lose you!” Hunter whimpered. “You’re always gonna be with me, right?”

Belos didn’t answer, instead electing to ignore the child’s question. “You have to understand, Hunter, that everything I do for you is to protect you. I may have lost my family to wild magic, but I will not let it ruin what I have built up over the years.”

The witch hunter reflected on his mission while continuing to stroke the child’s head. He would save humanity from these demons and return to the human realm, finally able to bring his brother home. For now, though, he’d just have to focus on preparing for that day, and in the meantime, act as his brother’s keeper. He looked down at the child, finally asleep in his arms. For the first time in a while, the old witch hunter prayed, sitting in silence, holding the last remnant of his brother. He’d avenge Caleb, God willing. It was his mission, one he was granted by the Lord. He couldn’t afford to fail.

Chapter Text

“Uncle, when’s my birthday?”

Belos looked up from working on repairing his staff. He had allowed Hunter to sit next to him in his workshop, as long as he was quiet and didn’t ask too many questions. He felt his temper rise some due to the child’s deliberate disregard of this rule, however he pushed the rage down; he didn’t have the energy to snap at the insubordination, as busy as he was.

Belos looked at Hunter with his usual expression. He put the tool he was using down on the table and turned to the child.

“Why do you ask?” Belos probed, eyes trained on Hunter.

Hunter felt a spike of fear. He considered backpedaling on asking, but he had already taken the first step.

“I heard some scouts talking about them. They were saying something about throwing a party for someone for their birthday. Everyone has one, so when is mine?” Hunter responded.

Belos hummed, mostly to himself. “I don’t really know, Hunter. I was never given that information. All I know is that you’ll be eight years old soon.”

Hunter looked disappointed. How the scouts described birthdays sounded wonderful. Everyone makes you feel special, you get to have a party, and, from what he had heard, people generally let you have a day off from your duties.

Hunter got an idea. “Hey Uncle, can I have a party? Even if I don’t know when my birthday is, I can just pick a day, right?”

Belos’ face turned stern and he gripped Hunter’s arm tightly. “Celebrations such as those are in direct offense to the Titan. Everything you work for is to honor Him. We don’t have time for such frivolities.” He released Hunter’s arm and returned to working on his staff, silence falling over the workshop.

Hunter felt tears in the corners of his eyes as he rubbed his sore arm. He’d messed up again. He was still confused about the whole idea of birthdays as a whole, and why the Titan hated them. He knew that every Scabuary 40th, there was a Islewide celebration of Belos’ rule. There were also Coven Day Parades. If the Titan really despised celebrations that much, then why did He allow those?

Tentatively, he phrased this question to Belos who glared at him before saying that ‘such flippancy was not of his idea, but of the witches of the Isles who were not privileged to know the Titan as intimately as he.’ Hunter thought if the Titan disapproved of the idea of the celebrations, then why hadn’t Belos outlawed them? He was the Emperor, after all, and what he said was law.

“Uncle, if the Titan hates it, then why haven’t you banned them?” Hunter asked.

Belos sighed annoyedly. “Because, Hunter, many wild witches would seek to overthrow me if I didn’t have the support from those bound to Covens. The celebrations are a way to attract the masses into giving their support. It’s a necessary evil. These witches don’t know what’s good for them, therefore it is my duty to convince them that their salvation depends on me.”

Hunter frowned. “Isn’t that tricking people?”, he asked.

Belos sneered at the boy. “No. It’s politics. Stop trying to speak about things you don’t understand.” He stood, wiping excess oil off his gauntlets. “I think it’s time you retired to your room. What do you say to someone when they have devoted time to you?”

Hunter forced himself to look Belos in the eye while dutifully responding, “Thank you, Uncle Belos.”

Belos ruffled Hunter’s hair. “Good boy. Off you go.” He shut the door behind Hunter.

Hunter walked back to his room, shoulders slumped and arms pulled into his chest. He collapsed on his bed and hugged his plush frog. Even though he should be happy that he was turning 8, he felt more alone than ever. No one would celebrate his birthday or throw him a party. He’d just have to accept that he was one year older and move on with his day.

Hunter pushed himself off his bed and grabbed a few of the toys off the shelf next to his bed. He arranged them and his frog toy in a circle around him and recounted what he’d heard the scouts singing earlier.

“Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday, dear Hunter…” He couldn’t finish singing the song before he broke down in tears, the only company witness to his sorrow being a plush pink frog, its glass eyes devoid of any ability of empathy for the sobbing child.

Chapter Text

Weather on the Boiling Isles was generally consistent. Most days had full sun: perfect for going outside on missions. However, occasionally the inhabitants of the Emperor’s Castle were stuck inside due to the weather. Because, as every witchling learned, when it rained, it poured boiling water. Due to this, members of the Coven were forced to train inside, and the days when it rained were generally regarded to be paperwork days. Scouts were put into offices to fill out incident forms, others had to be messengers that spent their day going around the castle to deliver notes and forms to others.

Hunter, meanwhile, was stuck in his room. Normally, he would train with the other scouts however, since the outdoor rooms were unavailable, there was no space for him. He wasn’t completely disappointed to have a day off, but he wished he had company to spend it with. Uncle was busy doing paperwork, Kikimora hated him, Lilith was probably dealing with keeping Kikimora from killing someone, and Darius…Darius had better things to do than being around an eight year old.

Hunter had laid out his toys in front of him on his bed and had a stack of books next to him. If he couldn’t train or have lessons, he might as well pretend he did to keep from getting bored. Rain days were long and dull, dragging on for many hours due to the unrelenting torrent of boiling water falling from the sky.

Hunter narrated the history behind the Isles’ strange weather to his toys. “The Titan was angry that the witches were disobeying His will. He had told them that wild magic was dangerous and would lead to their downfall. So, when they again failed to follow His instructions, He cast a scourge over the Isles that caused all the water to become boiling hot.” Hunter paused and leaned in towards the toys. “That’s why we need to follow the Titan’s will. If we do what He asks of us, He won’t have to hurt us.” Hunter reflected for a moment. The Titan was integral to his uncle. Uncle was always saying that he didn’t want to have to punish Hunter when he did something bad. He figured it was because Uncle was following the Titan’s teachings; it was only natural that His messenger would act as a vessel for His will. Yes, Uncle was strict, but only because he had to be.

Hunter closed the book he was reading and selected another. Its cover was colorful with pictures of witches and the Titan’s skull in the background. Hunter was able to read things more advanced than the book he had selected, but he found grown-up books to be boring sometimes. He wished they would have more pictures and be colorful. That way, when someone was reading it, they wouldn’t get distracted and lose their place in the text.

Hunter cleared his throat as he opened the book. “Once upon a time, witches and demons lived in chaos. They were practicing magic wrong. The Titan, the guardian of the Isles, saw what the witches were doing, and He got very mad. He caused boiling rain to fall from the sky and the witches became scared. That was, until a mysterious witch appeared and said that he was the messenger of the Titan’s will. He told the witches that they were doing magic wrong, and that he would save them from the wrath that the Titan would inflict upon them.”

Hunter smiled as he got to his favorite part of the book. “Emperor Belos devoted his life to making the Coven System so that witches and demons could practice magic in a way that did not upset the Titan. He became the Emperor of the Isles, revered and trusted by all. Not much is known about his past, but he is the future of the Isles: the one who will save everyone and make the Titan happy.”

Hunter snapped the book shut. “The End!”

He thought about how hard it must have been for Belos to convince everyone to follow him. Lots of people probably didn’t know exactly how important his mission was. Some people still didn’t. Hunter looked forward to becoming the Golden Guard. It meant he would be helping his Uncle find wild witches and bind them to Covens. He would be saving them from themselves.

Hunter laid back on his bed. It was only early afternoon, and he was bored. He was starting to feel slightly groggy from breathing in the same stale air all day. He wished he could go outside, but the rain hadn’t stopped, however, he didn’t want to bother anyone, as the adults were all busy. Suddenly, he got an idea. He’d seen scouts use a special technique to cast a shield over themselves so they could make it back inside without getting burned. If he could use this, maybe he’d be able to get some fresh air for a little bit. He had learned how to be stealthy from training. If he could sneak out for just a couple minutes, cast the shield, and then sneak back in, he would get to enjoy the outside.

Hunter slid off his bed and crept into the hallway. He stuck close to the wall and muffled his footsteps as he walked towards one of the side exits which would dump out into the courtyard. On his way, he passed an empty training room, which he stealthily wandered into and grabbed what he was looking for: a training wand. He wasn’t supposed to do magic without Uncle, but no one was around to witness him so he didn’t think twice about it.

Once he got to the door, he unlocked it and set about casting the shield spell. He’d practiced defensive spells with Belos, one of them being a shield charm, so Hunter was confident in his ability to cast the spell. The wand hummed and glowed for a moment before sputtering out. Hunter frowned as he tapped the wand and checked its energy level. It was still at full power, so it should work, right? He tried again, only to get the same result.

He scowled deeply. “Why isn’t this working?” he whined. He tapped the wand once more, and it hummed once before producing a shield of magic. Hunter’s face lit up, and he quickly ran outside while holding the shield above his head. Though the rain pelted onto the shield, it did not hit the child underneath it. Hunter breathed deeply, taking in the smell of damp wood, grass, and soil.

A memory flashed in his mind. The scent of soil clogging his nose, his hands clawing at the dirt, trying to get to the surface, and a cackle in the background. He’d had this memory before. It was when his parents died. He then heard a new sound emerge from the memory: his uncle’s voice.

“It looks the most like him.” his uncle’s voice echoed in his head.

Hunter snapped back to reality. The shield started glitching as the training wand’s energy bank drained. Hunter gasped, and before he could make a move to run back inside, the wand died out, taking the shield with it. The raindrops hit Hunter’s skin as he closed his eyes, bracing for the scalding water.

“Huh?” Hunter opened his eyes, feeling the rain hit his skin, not at all boiling. His skin didn’t burn, it simply felt as if someone was tickling him. He let out a little laugh and twirled around, feeling the water soak his clothes and hair. He was so elated that he didn’t hear the door open behind him.

“Hunter.”

Hunter turned around quickly and saw…oh no. Belos was standing in the doorframe, fully dressed in his royal regalia. Though Hunter couldn’t see his eyes, he could feel the rage emanating from the deep eye sockets of his mask.

Belos’ voice cut like a knife. “Come. Here. Now.”

Hunter’s palms were sweating and his wet clothes made his body ice cold as he walked slowly towards the emperor, his eyes on the ground. As he stepped next to Belos, he tried speaking.

“Uncle, I-” Hunter pleaded.

“Silence.” Hunter was interrupted by Belos, whose eyes were now visibly glowing electric blue. Hunter shrank and suddenly felt very small. Belos led him to his workshop, where Hunter was unceremoniously shoved inside.

Belos glared down at him, his voice never rising above its normal volume. “What were you thinking? Are you so incapable of following basic orders that you put yourself in danger while also not respecting your superiors? I’m starting to think that you won’t be able to handle being the Golden Guard. What a shame.”

Hunter stared at him with horror. “No, Uncle! Please, I can do better! Don’t replace me! I’m sorry!” he wailed.

Belos frowned under his mask. “How can I believe that when you’ve proven to me that you can’t follow simple directions? I need my Golden Guards to be able to take orders properly, not get distracted and ‘forget’ what I have told them to do.”

Hunter started to cry. “But I do listen! I can remember stuff! I know a lot about history and I like learning! I just forget stuff sometimes. But I’m trying! Please, Uncle, you have to believe me!”

Belos regarded the child for a moment before replying in a stern tone. “There is no excuse for weakness or failure in my coven. If you can’t do what I’ve asked of you, then I suppose it will be time for me to find a replacement.”

Hunter clung onto Belos’ robes and pleaded with him. “No, please, I can do it! I won’t fail! Give me another chance! Please!” His eyes were wide, locked onto his uncle’s cold ones.

Belos’ eyes narrowed. “Fine. But you will still be punished for this, Hunter.” He reached for a drawer in his work table and pulled out a long, thin rod.

Holding the lash in his left hand, Belos turned to Hunter. “Take off your gloves and hold out your hands.” Hunter did as he was told. Belos raised the rod and instructed Hunter. “You are to keep count.”

When he was finished, Belos sat bandaging Hunter’s hands, the cuts weeping blood. He delicately wrapped the bandages around the child’s palms.

“You know I don’t like punishing you, Hunter. But when you disobey me or the Titan, I have no choice. Lessons are meant to be learned, and a bit of pain is a good motivator to remember to not make the same mistakes again.” Belos explained.

He tied the end of the bandage and slipped the child’s gloves back over his hands. He helped Hunter off the stool and guided him towards the door.

Looking down on the boy, Belos smiled under his mask. “Good night, Hunter.” He shut the door, leaving Hunter alone, clutching his injured hands.

Chapter Text

Hunter had always realized he was different from everyone else around him. He wasn’t allowed to be around the other scouts much, and when he was, he could feel the hostility they felt towards him. He’d heard the whispers.

“He’s only in training for being the Golden Guard cause he’s the emperor’s nephew” a scout had said while he was eating in the cafeteria.

“That’s already nepotism enough. What if he’s Belos’ son? I could definitely see it, seeing how protective he is of the kid” another answered.

“Nah. The emperor is like, super old. I don’t think so. More likely he just found him and took him in as a ward. Still, how is a child supposed to be our superior?” the first replied.

“I don’t know, man. It’s a little suspicious. Can’t do anything about it, though.” The two scouts got up from their table, deliberately passing Hunter’s table so they could stare at him as they passed. Hunter’s face fell. He would prove them wrong. His uncle believed in him, and Titan willing, he’d rise to the challenge.

Hunter not only noticed how others treated him, but how he was physically different. He knew he was a powerless witch, something he’d been told that others didn’t take kindly to. Perhaps that’s why everyone treated him the way they did; they saw him as a weakling with no natural talent.

But things didn’t always add up. Like why he wasn’t burned by the boiling rain. Any normal witch would have sores blooming on their skin from the water. He simply got warmer. He also knew that his eyes were not only unique in color but also due to the fact that they would glow in the dark. He’d noticed it when he had taken a look in the mirror after extinguishing the candle in his room. It had given him quite the scare seeing this at first, but then he remembered Belos’ eyes could also glow. It was a family trait. As for the color, he chalked it up to his ancestors once again. He didn’t know where his parents had come from, so perhaps witches from other areas of the Isles had magenta eyes or eyes that could glow.

Hunter wanted to ask Belos why he was the way he was, but he didn’t think his uncle would appreciate him asking questions like that after what had happened when he last asked about their family. Still, Hunter wondered why he was so different. Come to think of it, both he and Belos looked distinctly different from the other witches. Not only did Belos have his curse scar, but Hunter had noticed how small his ears were compared with his own and the other witches.

He assumed that, yet again, it was down to the unknown of his genetics. Maybe their family had a different type of witch with small ears and no magic in its ancestry. Hunter had gotten the large ears, but he had also gotten no magical ability. Everything was simply odd about him and his uncle. He just wished he had answers for who he was and where he came from.

He guessed he could understand if his uncle wanted to be mysterious. He was a public figure and, as Hunter had experienced, any and all information could be used against you, truth or lies. He most likely kept the information private in order to protect his reputation and to protect Hunter himself. But, as Hunter continued to wonder, why didn’t Belos tell him and swear him to secrecy? He knew about his uncle’s curse; only Lilith and Kikimora were privy to that information as well. Belos could tell him and Hunter wouldn’t say a word to anyone else.

Hunter knew many strange things about himself and his uncle. But, despite how much Uncle believed in him, or how much Hunter trusted his Uncle, he could never get a straight answer from him. It was if the man had secrets that he would take to his grave.

Chapter Text

Shadows danced in the corners of the castle, despite the sun shining in from the windows. Some areas of the castle were always well-lit, while others receded into darkness. This gave the entire castle a gloomy atmosphere, as if the very souls of everyone inside were miserable. Some scouts swore the castle was haunted; they claimed to see shadows moving, or heard a childish cackle when they believed they were alone. Ghosts, some said, of the scouts who failed basic training. Used as a warning and a hazing tactic by the elder scouts. Rumors spread like wildfire when the group one was in was self-contained and prone to boredom.

Only one person in the castle knew the truth behind the rumors, and he was often furious that the shadowy figure was so apt to disobey his orders. Though, as he quickly learned, demanding that a thousand-something year old god that had the mentality of a child follow rules was fruitless. Regardless, Belos made The Collector ensure that he stayed out of sight by staying in the shadows. If they caused mass hysteria by making the idiots think the place was haunted, so be it. The star child found it entertaining and this meant one less game of Hide and Seek for the tired dictator.

The Collector, as many unruly children were apt to do when told to do something, did the complete opposite. They enjoyed creeping out of the shadows from time to time within the castle, especially when a scout would pass by the area, unaware they were being watched. The Collector learned many things simply by watching, like which scouts illegally played Hexes Hold’Em on their lunch break, which were talking instead of patrolling, and who might be thinking of treason. Of course, he said nothing to anyone about this. He wasn’t a snitch.

His favorite activity, however, was playing with the little grimwalker. It was fiercely loyal to Belos, but it often broke the rules, and it was exceptionally easy to scare. This set up the perfect game for the Collector to simply wait for the right moment, slither out of the shadows in front of the grimwalker, and disappear in an instant. It always got a reaction out of it; this grimwalker was particularly jumpy compared to the rest.

Hunter, meanwhile, had no idea about the existence of the star child. He only knew that he would hear strange whispers from the darkness, followed by a flash of a face with a large grin plastered on it, gone in the blink of an eye. It would happen sporadically throughout the day, but at night, it kept him awake. Because, as Hunter lay trying to sleep, the shadow would do the same thing as it would during the day at first, but would also change shape. From snagglebacks to slitherbeasts, it would morph into many different demons, all with sharp teeth and claws. Then, it would grow bigger, covering an entire wall and would send tendrils of shadow towards Hunter’s bed. It would morph into his uncle’s cursed form, eyes blazing with a brilliant light, before disappearing.

This caused him to stay awake for hours, reliving the day where he got the scar on his cheek. The next day, during his lessons, he was groggy and sluggish from lack of sleep. It was only until several days of these sleepless nights that it was finally brought to Belos’ attention. Kampf had pushed Hunter to his limit in training, which was much lower than normal because of how little sleep the boy had gotten. He was dragged, half-asleep, to the throne room and deposited in front of the emperor.

Belos frowned under his mask upon seeing the child, the bags under his eyes a deep color against his pale skin. Hunter’s normally bright eyes were dull and unfocused.

Belos addressed Kampf. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, my Lord. The child refused to tell me. But, I can tell that he is severely sleep deprived.” Kampf replied.

Belos huffed, mostly to himself. First the shadow child, now the grimwalker. He wasn’t a parent, and the constant demand of the two creatures’ meltdowns was beginning to take its toll.

“Hunter, why haven’t you been sleeping?” Belos said with an air of false concern.

Hunter looked at Belos for the first time since being put in the man’s presence. His eyes flicked to Kampf and he cowered slightly. Belos understood that Hunter wouldn’t speak while Kampf was present, so he ordered the demon to leave. Once gone, Belos removed his mask and beckoned Hunter to him. He picked the boy up and placed him on his knee, tilting the child’s face up with a single, gauntlet-covered finger. He repeated his question and Hunter began crying while Belos fought the urge to remove the boy from the room until he regained calmness.

Hunter, through sobs, explained the shadowy figure he had been seeing, both in day and at night. Belos meanwhile searched the shadows at the edge of the room for signs of the god-child, finding none. He still cast a withering glare when one of the shadows moved in a way not conducive to the regular flickering coming from the torches.

“Hunter, I know some of the scouts have been making up stories about the castle being ‘haunted.’ They are false. There’s nothing for you to lose sleep over.” Belos cajoled the child.

Hunter pleaded with his uncle that he knew what he saw, that the shadow was real, but Belos kept dismissing him and saying it was all in his imagination. He’d just heard one too many rumors and the lack of sleep was causing him to see things that weren’t there. Hunter didn’t believe him, he knew the shadow was real.

Belos hummed. “I will have Hettie make you an elixir to help you sleep. I need you awake for your lessons, Hunter. Now, no more whining about shadows. And in the future, don’t let the scouts’ idiocy influence you. No one knows what is better for you than I. Remember that, nephew.” He lifted Hunter off his knee, replacing his mask. He walked with Hunter’s hand on his own, guiding the dazed child back to his room where he would cast a spell that prevented The Collector from slipping under the door to terrorize his grimwalker.

Chapter Text

Hunter learned to keep his mask on around many of the scouts. Sure, they were just jealous that he was the future Golden Guard, but many were bullies that were angry about their own miserable lives. So, naturally, they took it out on a small child. Hunter was, of course, used to this treatment. The Coven Heads acted like this all the time, teasing him for even the smallest slip-ups. The scouts would tease him for his appearance, calling his eyes ‘weird’ and telling him that his ears were too large for his head. During training, on a particularly awful day, the constant teasing was clouding Hunter’s mind, causing him to become sloppy.

Naturally, this caused him to be wiped onto the floor, his face smashing into the wall. Hunter had been steadily losing his baby teeth, and he had recently grown in his adult teeth to replace his two front ones on the top. As soon as Hunter recovered from having his face bashed into the wall, he immediately tasted blood and saw his two teeth lying on the ground. As a child was prone to do when seeing their own blood, Hunter began screaming and crying, his lip already swelling up and bruising. Kampf, not being one for the care of children, tensed up and did the only thing he could think of doing; he brought the bloodied child to Hettie Cutburn’s examination room.

Hettie had been enjoying a nice break, just after having to deal with three idiotic scouts who provoked a hive of firebees. Unfortunately for her, this peace and quiet would be interrupted by Instructor Kampf bursting in the door, dragging the emperor’s nephew behind him, the child’s face covered with blood.

Hettie frowned at Kampf. “Are you kidding me, Kampf? Never thought you’d stoop so low as to punch a kid in the face.”

Kampf looked aghast. “I did no such thing! The kid wasn’t paying attention, so when I went to make a move for him to block, he hit the wall.”

Hettie gave Kampf a look that clearly showed doubt over his statement. She shooed him outside the door, slamming it behind him. She then bent down to pick up Hunter and place him on her exam table.

Hettie gave a kind smile to the crying child, shushing him comfortingly as she cleaned his face. She tsked as she discovered the source of the blood.

“You really did a number on your face, huh kid? Don’t worry, I’ll get you fixed up” she told the boy.

She used a spell circle to rid the lip of swelling and bruising, followed by soaking a cloth in an elixir to staunch the bleeding from Hunter’s gums. She waited a few minutes and then examined the area.

Hettie’s eyebrows knit together as she had to deliver her prognosis to Hunter. “Well, there’s good news and bad news. I was able to stop the bleeding and get rid of the swelling. Bad news is that I can’t replace the teeth. Since they were adult teeth, they’ll never grow back. I’m sorry, Hunter, you’ll have a gap between your teeth for the rest of your life. But don’t worry, it suits you. You were very brave.” She smiled at the child.

Hunter’s eyes fell. He’d been so happy about getting his big-boy teeth and just like that, they were gone. It would just mean one more reason for him to be bullied. Hettie helped him off the table and he robotically walked to the throne room, his head in a daze. He knocked on the door, greeted by a scout who hurriedly ushered him inside after seeing his crestfallen face.

Belos looked up from the paperwork he had been reviewing to see his nephew being led by a scout towards him. He felt his already thin patience wane more at the thought of having to deal with whatever ridiculousness his nephew had been doing in the few hours he’d let him out of his sights.

Belos stood, placing the paperwork in his cloak. “Leave us, scouts.” The scouts shuffled awkwardly out of the throne room, leaving the emperor alone with the child.

Belos removed his mask, fixing the child in place with a stern glare. “What do you want? I’ve been very busy today, so this had better be important.”

Hunter fidgeted with his hands. He nervously met his uncle’s glare and told him what had happened. Belos responded by glaring even more.

“And you came to tell me this, why? You went to Hettie and got fixed up. What makes you think you can come bother me to tell me something I would have been informed of regardless?” Belos snarled.

Hunter’s pent up frustration from the past few days burst out as he told Belos of the scouts’ treatment of him over the past few days. Once he regained control of his anger, he expected to see Belos furious with the scouts for insulting his family. Instead, Hunter saw a blank face with a lack of emotion from his uncle.

Belos let a thin-lipped smile across his face as he placed a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Hunter, you mustn't concern yourself with your outward appearance. Those who care about how they look are very selfish and are distracted from what they should be concerned with. The Titan has no use for outward looks, He will judge you by the content of your character. Besides, even if the scouts are correct, the Titan will see your devotion.”

Hunter still felt miffed. “But, Uncle, shouldn’t the Titan care about His children and not make them be teased for how they look? If He really cares?”

Belos frowned. “Are you questioning the Titan, Hunter?”

Hunter panicked “No, of course not!”

Belos pinched Hunter’s cheeks. “For the record, yes, you do have rather large ears and your eyes are quite strange. That new tooth gap doesn’t help in that regard either.” Belos sighed “Unfortunately, you and I have somewhat of an image to uphold as the Titan’s messenger and his nephew. I’m simply being honest with you, my dear. Family has to be honest with one another, after all.”

Hunter pulled away from Belos. The one person who he thought would support and defend him believed the same things about him as the scouts. He unconsciously bid his uncle goodbye and stumbled to his room, tears threatening to break out. When he reached his room, he quickly located the first aid kid under his bed. He reached inside and took out the scissors. They were sharp, usually used for snipping the thread for sutures. Instead, Hunter took them to his left ear, slicing at the cartilage. The pain was excruciating, but Hunter pressed on, his anger and sadness fueling him.

He finally broke out of his reverie when he realized he wouldn’t be able to make his ear smaller. Blood was flowing profusely down the side of his face, his ear throbbing in agony. He reached for the first aid kit again and grabbed bandages to try and stop the bleeding, all the while glaring at his reflection and wishing he could be an amalgamation of everyone else: with his uncle’s small ears, and with a normal color of eyes. And of course, without a stupid, ugly tooth gap.

Chapter Text

A roaring fire crackled and popped within an ornamentally gilded fireplace, ashes from the burning timbers falling slowly onto the hearth like snowflakes. Waves of heat languidly flowed from the flames, blanketing the room in a warm comfort. The room was outfitted with a large wooden desk, haphazardly covered in papers, a near-empty inkwell sitting beside it. Tucked underneath was an equally large chair, bearing a plush seat and back cushions. The fireplace had a squat, plump armchair turned towards it.

Sitting within that armchair, slightly slouched over from exhaustion, was an old man with long, gray hair. Belos held his head in his hand, staring into the flickering flames, eyes half shut. He’d had it up to here with all the drama he’d had to endure in the week, from paperwork and scout nonsense, to all of the issues surrounding his nephew. He thought the tooth incident would have been the end of it, but no. Apparently, as Lilith had informed him whilst running into the throne room unannounced and out of breath, his grimwalker had attempted to slice its ear off, sobbing to Lilith about the scouts’ treatment of it. Belos nearly scoffed at this; he’d had to endure much worse in Gravesfield and he never acted out like that.

On top of all of that, his curse had been acting up, threatening to surface at the worst moments possible. So, needless to say, he was feeling pretty miserable and tired. To avoid lashing out at the next person who even breathed in his presence, he had retired to his quarters early, setting up a fire and collapsing into his armchair. He felt all the tension he had pent up leave his body as he slowly drifted off to sleep from the warm heat soaking his aged bones.

But his mind would not let him rest peacefully. The incident with his nephew had caused painful memories to resurface in his disturbed mind. Belos had many regrets in his life, decisions made in the heat of passion of anger. He should have stuck with ink on his arms for the glyphs, but they wore off too quickly, so in a series of unstable moments, he hacked at his arms to permanently carve them into his flesh. This, of course, had resulted in a worsening of his curse, leading to even more necessity of palisman consumption.

His worst decision, however, was to slice his ears in order to make them pointy, like the witches. He had been caught up in trying to con the witches into following him, but everyone had just grown suspicious of him. Humans had never been seen before on the Isles, and the whispers and rumors about his brother and that witch were following him as he went from town to town. Soon, many towns warned others of a cursed human by the name of Philip Wittebane, said to cast a dark shadow of misfortune over any town he entered. As such, he was quickly turned away by townspeople, and he was forced to remain in the abandoned house he was occupying. This resulted in him carving a new mask for himself to wear and making the decision to fashion a new name for himself, one that would be respected as well as feared. After becoming emperor, despite wearing a mask, there was still a problem with his ears. If he wanted to show his face to the Isles in order to further gain their trust, he’d have to look the part of a witch. He had tried using concealment stones, but to little effect. In a moment of desperation and madness he had taken up the dagger used on his brother.

He began with his right ear, as it was easier to hold the dagger with his left. He started from the bottom of the helix, near the lobule. As the dagger’s edge sunk into the flesh, he winced, beginning to regret his decision. He’d come too far to stop now, though. He grit his teeth and dug the dagger in again, slicing upwards. The dagger dragged slowly upward, catching on a few pieces of cartilage. Blood raced in a torrent from his ear as he reached the start of the antihelix. The cartilage was harder to slice through, so he had to apply more pressure to the dagger. He managed to gain enough momentum to fully get through the rest, resulting in the dagger slicing his palm as well. He hissed through his teeth and clamped his hand over the bloody remains of his ear. He flicked the severed bit into the sink in front of him, placing the dagger there as well.

As he looked into the mirror, blood coating his hand and face, he breathed heavily, eyes glowing slightly against his pale skin. After a few minutes of trying to stifle the pain radiating through his face, he again took up the dagger and held his left ear in place with his right hand, wrapping his arm over his head. He held it taut as he placed the sharp edge of the dagger against the upper helix this time, so he could slice downwards without cutting his hand again. Bracing once again for the agonizing pain, he made the cut. He unfortunately forgot to factor in his shaking hand, the pain finally making him unsteady. The dagger veered off course for a moment, resulting in a jagged cut inwards. He bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling out. Adjusting his grip on the knife, he redirected the cut out and down to fully sever the ear.

As he examined his handiwork, he neatened a few edges, making the jagged cut more of a notch. He threw the remaining scraps of cartilage into the sink, tossing the bloodied dagger in as well. He dampened a towel and pressed it to the side of his head, attempting to clean the area. His nerves stung and tingled with sharp pain that caused him a headache unlike any he’d experienced before. He was not able to focus on much of anything for days following, racked as he was by crippling pain.

It was all worth it, though, he thought, opening his eyes to stare into the fire. He lazily traced the rough edges of his ears, thinking of home and how he’d soon return there, welcomed back as a hero.

Chapter Text

Tasks were almost always divided by rank in the Emperor’s Coven. New scouts, in addition to training, often got the worst jobs the castle could offer, mostly patrol duty in the shadiest areas of the Isles, including at the Night Market. Special tasks, good or bad, were delivered by letter from the emperor by the captains or guards. Receiving a note with the personal wax seal of the emperor was met with either joy or fear after reading the message. As the Head of the Coven, Lilith received many of these notes, usually positive ones like research, which she enjoyed doing. However, she was currently not in good graces with Belos after failing to provide information on her sister. She knew he was after Eda for not joining a coven, however she’d already betrayed her sister once and was not keen on repeating that mistake.

Despite this, Belos would not take failure to do what he had asked lightly. So here Lilith was, holding a note from the emperor, waiting to see what awaited her. She located her letter opener and sliced the wax seal open. She unfolded the parchment and was met with Belos’ elegant, loopy cursive handwriting.

Lilith,
I will be away from the castle today and I cannot trust any of the scouts to look after Hunter for the day. I entrust you to his care. I will send another message when I have returned and will come to collect him shortly thereafter.
Belos

Lilith sighed. So she’d been put as the emperor’s personal babysitter, forced to look after the Golden Brat. It was an insult to her station to have to monitor a child all day while the emperor was off doing who knows what. She felt personally insulted that he’d even think she had fallen so far from grace that she deserved to be burdened with this task.

Regardless, she couldn’t go against the emperor’s orders, so she walked to the child’s room and knocked on his door. She opened it to see the boy playing with toys on the carpet near his bed. When he noticed her enter, his head raised up and he smiled at her. Feeling nervous about her situation, she did the only thing she thought to do, and smiled back at him.

Hunter grinned. “Hi Miss Lilith! Do you wanna play with me?” he asked.

Lilith was taken aback for a moment before her instincts kicked in and told her to go along with what the boy wanted. She lowered herself down onto the rug, arranging her skirts properly.

Lilith gestured to the toys the boy was playing with. “Do you want to introduce me to your friends?” she asked.

Hunter’s face positively glowed at being able to introduce his toys to someone. “Ok”, he said, picking up a pink frog toy that was clearly well-loved. “This is Sprig. He’s my favorite. He’s really funny!” He put the frog down and picked up a toy of a small human boy with glasses. “This is Remy. He’s super smart, but he gets into trouble a lot.” He placed it down.

Lilith chuckled. “So kind of like you, huh?”

Hunter frowned. “I don’t mean to get in trouble. I just keep messing up.” He looked as if he was about to cry so Lilith quickly consoled him.

“You’re not a bad kid, Hunter. Everyone makes mistakes. I’m here with you because I made a mistake and Belos put me here” Lilith explained.

Hunter’s face fell. “You’re only here cause Uncle told you to? So you don’t actually wanna be here?”

Lilith had to act quickly. “No, no. I’m enjoying hearing you talk about your toys! It’s ok. It’s better than having to hang around Kikimora.”

Hunter giggled. “Yeah, no offense, she can be kinda mean.”

Lilith snorted. “Yes, yes she can. Now, how about you tell me about this one?” she said, pointing to a patchwork figure.

Hunter picked it up. It was a stuffed deer made of cloth scraps, and its head instead made of clay. It was blue and had a smiley face painted on its face.

“This is Buck. I made him while learning how to sew. I’ve gotten really good at stitching!” Hunter exclaimed.

Lilith looked at the raggedy cloth, haphazardly sewn. She wanted to be honest and tell the child that his needlework needed more attention, but she withheld this comment. She instead praised him for it and he grinned widely. She then noticed the final ‘toy’, this one made fully of clay. There was no need for her to ask what it was.

“Oh, and this is Uncle, obviously. I made it out of clay and the twigs are for the antlers on his mask! I tried giving it to him but he didn’t take it, so I gotta keep it in my room” Hunter explained.

Lilith wondered why Belos didn’t take something his nephew made him. If she was a parent, not that she’d ever be, she’d keep anything her child made, no matter how awful it looked. The fact that Hunter loved his uncle so much as to immortalize him in clay meant something. Lilith knew Belos was cold, but she had figured it was only an act as emperor and that once his mask (both literally and metaphorically) came off, he’d be a loving uncle. Apparently, she was mistaken.

Lilith felt a pang of sadness for the boy. Her own mother had favored Eda over her, so she understood what it was like to feel neglected by your parents. But she had friends and her father as well. This child had nothing, only his often absent uncle. She’d also heard the whispers about the child’s injuries and had a gut-feeling Belos was responsible. They had said it was a result of the emperor’s curse, and that it was an accident. They never mentioned how a child getting that severely injured couldn’t merely be an ‘accident’.

She let Hunter dictate the play, and she followed along, making up a story as she went. The hours went by quickly as she was engrossed in the fun she was having with the boy. As soon as the sun began setting, she heard a knock on the door and a note slid under the door.

“What’s that?” Hunter asked.

Lilith picked up the note and opened it, informing her of the emperor’s return. She relayed this to Hunter, who quickly stood up and began bouncing up and down in excitement, his arms loose and flailing around. A few minutes later, there was another knock on the door. Lilith approached it and opened it, revealing the emperor, as tall and intimidating as ever. Without a word, he stepped into the room and stood in front of Hunter.

“How was he today, Lilith?” Belos asked cordially.

“Just fine, sir. No issues. We actually had quite a good time, right Hunter?” Lilith said.

“Yeah! We played with my toys together!” Hunter exclaimed.

“Did you now? Well I’m pleased to hear you were good today, my boy. Unfortunately, Lilith has other duties she must attend to now. What do you say, Hunter?” Belos added.

“Thank you for playing with me, Miss Lilith.” Hunter stated.

Belos nodded to Lilith, giving her the signal to leave. She turned to look at the child one last time before she exited the room.

“Any time” she said with a smile as the door closed behind her.

Chapter Text

Each year on the same day, the castle had a day off. The next would be fifty-two weeks away, so every scout took the opportunity to go home to visit their families, as they’d only be able to communicate by letter, crystal ball, Penstagram, or crow-phone from then on. The captains and the guards also had the day off, though they were instructed to stay within the castle for security reasons. Coven Heads took the day as an opportunity to do nothing, or to engage in hobbies. Eberwolf looked after their ratworms, Darius gave himself a facial and took a ‘spa day’, and Terra terrorized a few scouts who stayed behind with her carnivorous plants. Even Lilith, who was usually busy filing paperwork, and Kikimora, who’d usually be bossing people around, took the day for themselves. It was a great mercy bestowed by the Emperor, and everyone made the most of the day.

Hunter, as a result of the decreased amount of reports and general government-running, was able to spend the day with his uncle, something that was a rarity and a privilege. Belos still had the Isles to run, so he couldn’t entertain Hunter all day, but just a few hours in the man’s presence were a treat that came around once a year. Hunter was told that he’d be summoned when the emperor was finished working, but in the meantime, Hunter had to make his own fun. Though he wasn’t excellent at it, Hunter loved to draw. He grabbed paper and a pencil and sat on his bedroom floor. He started out by drawing himself, remembering to include his cowlick and his scars. He put the pencil down and ran over to his desk, rifling through the drawers until he found his crayons.

Opening up the box, Hunter shook out all of the colorful sticks of wax. He pondered which crayon to select for a moment, before choosing the red colored one. He used it to color the irises of his eyes. Then, he selected the pink crayon, lightly coloring in his skin and scars. He took up the yellow one next and colored his hair. He set the crayons down and picked up the pencil again. He began sketching his uncle next to him, holding his staff. Hunter started to draw his uncle’s mask but quickly erased it in favor of drawing his face instead. Hunter found Belos’ mask to be extremely intimidating and had learned that he was generally kinder when he had it removed. He scribbled with the pencil for the hair and then took the green and blue crayons to make his scar and eyes.

Hunter put the crayons down and picked up the paper to inspect it. It was crudely done in comparison to the beautiful artwork around the castle, but he was only eight, so he’d get better as he grew older. With practice, of course. He pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and began sketching his frog toy. Before he could begin to color it, though, he heard a knock on the door. He put his pencil down and opened the door.

“Hi, Uncle!” Hunter exclaimed excitedly.

“Greetings, nephew.” Belos stated, holding out his hand for Hunter to take. “Come along now” he ordered.

Hunter looked back at his room. “I gotta clean up first. Give me a minute.” Hunter quickly shoved the crayons back into the box and replaced them and his pencil in the desk drawer. He then grabbed his drawing and held it up to Belos, grinning widely.

“Look, Uncle, it’s us!” Hunter said delightfully.

Belos took the drawing, his eyes narrowing. He hummed and handed it back to Hunter.

“Well it almost looks passable. You need to work on your penmanship, my boy. You’re lucky you never had to learn to write with both hands. I really doubt you would have been able to handle it.” Belos said with a bored expression on his face.

Hunter looked confused. “What do you mean? Why’d you have to write with both? I thought people only had one hand they wrote with.”

“Yes, typically” Belos explained “but the Titan prefers the use of the proper hand. Those who use the cursed hand are said to be touched by wild magic. It is through our efforts that we must properly educate witches on correct writing technique.”

Hunter thought for a moment. It seemed wrong to force someone to use a hand that they weren’t comfortable using. But if the Titan said that using the wrong hand was a sign of wild magic, then Hunter didn’t want to mess up.

Belos spoke again, gesturing for Hunter to follow him. “This is all for your protection, my boy. I can’t let my nephew fall to savage ways.”

He led Hunter to his personal study, taking a seat in a large armchair near a fireplace. Hunter approached cautiously and Belos scooped him up under his armpits and placed the child onto his knee.

“Have I ever told you the story of the two brothers?” Belos asked. Hunter shook his head. Belos leaned back and placed his hand on Hunter’s head, smoothing the loose strand of hair back from Hunter’s face.

“There were once two brothers,” Belos began. “They lived in a small town of only a few people. The brothers had lost both parents to wild magic, so they only had each other to rely on. The older brother took care of his younger brother, feeding him and keeping him safe. The town was often plagued by wild witches, and so many of the people were hunters of these betrayers of the Titan’s will. The two brothers, having been born in a far away land, were new to town and had trouble fitting in. They both started training to become hunters so that they could keep themselves alive.

The younger brother, though enthusiastic and devoted to the cause, had the problem of using the wrong hand. The adults around him scolded him and punished him whenever he would use it. Because of this, many people were scared of him. But the Titan could see his potential and knew that he was worthy of ending wild magic forever. The older brother began to stray from the Titan when he gained an interest in palisman carving from a witch he had been sneaking out in the middle of the night to see. Unbeknownst to the younger, this witch was wild and was tricking the elder into deviating from the Titan.

Once the little brother found out about this, he was enraged that his brother would do something so foolish. But the elder didn’t listen, and he ran off with the witch. The younger brother was devastated and he swore to find his brother one day and bring him home. Years passed and both brothers were adults. They eventually bumped into each other and reunited, but the younger was infuriated that the elder had gotten married to the wild witch. Even more distressing, the witch was pregnant with the child of the elder brother. This caused the younger to realize that his brother was too far gone and that he could not be saved from the Titan’s wrath. He ended up killing his brother, causing the wild witch to curse him. From that day forward, he would experience nothing but agony and sadness for the brother he tried to save.”

Hunter stared wide eyed at his uncle. The story was haunting and sad, as well as scary. He couldn’t imagine what would cause someone to need to kill their brother.

“Uncle, what happened to the brother?” Hunter asked.

“He vanished. No one knows where he went. But legends say that he will find his brother’s soul and bring it home.” Belos explained.

“I didn’t like that story. It was too scary and sad.” Hunter whispered.

Belos regarded the child for a moment before telling him that all stories are sewn from truth and that in order to secure the future, they must learn from the past.

Hunter yawned, feeling tired due to the room’s warm temperature. He leaned on his uncle’s chest, curled up in his lap as his eyes drifted shut.

Belos felt a strange feeling in his chest as the child softly snored, ear pressed against where his heart was. He imagined this was what Caleb felt while holding him as he slept. For once, Belos had the urge to protect the grimwalker. It would be vital to the Day of Unity and he had come too far to let his efforts go to waste.

Chapter Text

The castle was often compared to a labyrinth due to how many twisted hallways and hidden rooms it contained. Disorienting to the newest scout and potentially deadly for any intruder, the castle was purposefully built as such to ensure maximum security. Important rooms, such as the throne room and the emperor’s personal quarters were kept towards the middle of the building. Doors and gates were locked with a multi-part mechanism, and guards were stationed at each checkpoint. Needless to say, the castle was one of the safest buildings on the Isles. And, as many learned, the most secretive.

Hunter had lived in the castle for nearly his entire life, yet he still found new rooms and areas on a rhythmly basis. He was mostly left to his own devices all day, not really being allowed to be around the other scouts. Most times, he would sit in his room and study or sew, but he got antsy quickly. He put on his scout uniform with the mask on as well and left his room, closing the door behind him. People stared at him regardless of what he was wearing, but with the scout uniform on he could at least blend in some.

Hunter had been learning how to be stealthy in training, how to sneak up on your enemies so you had the element of surprise while attacking. Though he wasn’t in danger of an attack, Hunter used these skills to sneak around the castle unnoticed. He had discovered, by complete accident, that there were passageways in the walls that were just the right size for him, given he crouched down onto his hands and knees. He used them to get around the castle or, when the teasing from the scouts was particularly unbearable, to hide in.

Today, however, Hunter had a plan. He had brought along his notebook and pencil and was dropping in on a lesson for older scouts. He sat within the passageway, behind a grate so that he could see and hear the lesson, but no one else could see him. From his vantage point, Hunter could see that the scouts were learning how to pilot an airship. Hunter thought it would be amazing to be able to fly one, as the diagram on the chalkboard looked incredibly complicated. Despite his age, Hunter considered himself to be intelligent. He loved to see how things worked, and he often wished his uncle would let him be in the workshop more often. He had always wanted to be like his uncle, inventing things and tinkering with them until they were just right. Hunter didn’t fully understand why everyone ignored him. He knew many things and he felt that, with a bit of training, he’d be a useful asset to the coven.

Once the scouts were finished with their lesson, Hunter stuffed the notebook into his cloak and continued crawling through the hidden passage. As he scrambled, he felt the air chill and noticed how the passage was sloping downwards. Sitting up and seating himself on the ground, he slid downwards with his feet ahead of him. All of a sudden, the passage bottomed out and he fell onto hard stone, letting out a small yelp. He had landed in a place where he’d never set eyes on before. It was a cramped room with cages on either side, all reinforced with magic shields. From what Hunter could make out, the cages weren’t empty. Peering inside one, he saw a small creature within it.

It was a vaguely reptilian being with frilly ears, pointy teeth and claws, and a long gildersnake-like body. It was secured to the wall by shackles on its two forelimbs and its tail had a tag pierced through it with strange symbols. It looked up and noticed Hunter and shrunk back against the wall.

“Stay away from me” it croaked in a hoarse voice.

Hunter stepped forward and removed his mask. “What are you?” he asked.

The creature scoffed. “Hmpf. It’s always ‘what are you’ and not ‘who or how are you.’ Typical. I’m a basilisk. My ‘name’, not that you asked, is Number Two. Yeah, that’s right. They don’t even name us. Just give us numbers and put us in cages to starve.”

Hunter felt his heart break. Why would the castle have these creatures in cages?

“Why did they do this? Who did this?” Hunter begged.

“Who do you think?” the creature answered. “Basilisks went extinct years ago, but they brought us back. They wanted to see how we drained magic so that they could kill witches and demons more effectively.” it explained with a snarl.

Hunter was taken aback. From what he’d been told, wild witches were caught and put into covens so they could begin their recovery and reintegrate into society. He’d heard of petrifications before, but he had thought those were for the worst criminals.

“How many of you are there?” Hunter asked.

The creature held up four fingers. “There used to be five of us. Number Three couldn’t absorb magic anymore, so she was disposed of. Now there’s just me, One, Four, and Five. All we have is each other.” it said with a broken voice.

Hunter understood where the basilisk was coming from. He too only had his uncle. Did he know about this? He must. Uncle always knew everything. It was as if his eyes and ears were everywhere within the castle.

“Is there any way I can help you?” Hunter asked the creature.

“No,” it replied “I don’t want your help. You’re one of them. The ones that will forever torture our kind and be loyal to him until it’s too late. Until you mess up” it growled.

Hunter backed away from the cage, sensing Two’s hostility.

“Two, what’s going on?” another voice whispered from a different cage. Hunter turned to see another basilisk, this one larger than Two. It had a tag on its tail as well with more of the strange symbols. It scowled at him, narrowing its eyes and sniffing the air.

“Funny,” it said, “You smell different from the rest of the guards.”

“What do you mean I ‘smell’ different?” Hunter asked, head tilted in confusion.

“We can smell magic. Each person smells different to us, but magic all smells the same. You don’t smell like normal magic.” the basilisk explained.

“But how do I smell?” Hunter pleaded.

“Like dirt, honestly. Dirt and wood.” the basilisk said.

“Just like him, Four.” Two added.

“No, sister. The horned one smells of death and rot. This one smells different. Odd, yes, but different.” The sister, Number Four, added.
“You should leave, little one. You don’t belong here. A word of advice: beware.” she warned.

Hunter stepped away from the cage and waved goodbye to the basilisks. He crawled back into the hidden passage towards his room, dumbfounded by what he’d just witnessed.

Chapter Text

Night fell sharp and fast over the Isles, causing many demons to awake and begin to prowl. The Night Market opened its shops, con artists begging for customers to take them up on offers of revolutionary products. All the activity and excitement that came with nightfall across the Isles was juxtaposed with the eerie silence of the castle. Although tonight was one of the busier nights, as the whole castle was preparing for the annual Coven Day Parade, it was still relatively quiet and empty.

Hunter, for the first time in a while, was able to help out with the preparations. He had gotten permission to aid with the design of a few of the floats to ensure that they were child-friendly, as some scouts’ ideas of what would be fine for a child to see was, in fact, too scary. Each Coven Head was responsible for the design and overseeing of the build of their own coven’s float. Because Hunter was technically part of the Emperor’s Coven, despite not being branded yet, he was allowed to work on a few of the floats from other covens as well.

As of the moment, he was sitting with a young scout-in-training named Steve, Lilith, and a couple other older scouts. They were currently sketching out the main float, on which Kikimora and Lilith would stand. One of the older scouts, despite their position, was bossing Steve and the others around. They especially didn’t let Hunter get in a word edgewise as, according to them, he didn’t know what he was talking about.

“That’s a horrible idea! This float needs to be grand and regal! The Emperor’s Coven is the jewel of the coven system and I doubt the emperor would approve of something so garish!” they were yelling, causing other tables full of scouts to turn and stare.
Lilith fixed a stern expression on her face. “Watch your tone, scout. I am willing to work with others to design this, as we will need the approval of the emperor regardless, but I will not tolerate this kind of behavior. You are setting a bad example for this child as well” she said, gesturing towards Hunter.

The scout huffed, crossing their arms. Hunter, meanwhile, had been sketching out his idea for the float. He had thought that if it was to be regal, the best design would be to incorporate the throne into the design. He knew how to draw it from memory due to the amount of times he was in there. He included notes on different colors to use for the float, mostly gold and white. He then decided that including the sigil above the throne piece as a medallion would elevate the design and ensure everyone watching the parade knew which coven the float was for. As a last minute addition, he scribbled in the design of the antlers of his uncle’s mask on top. The most important part of the coven was his uncle, was it not? With all of this on paper, Hunter pushed his design to the center of the table and began explaining his idea.

From Lilith’s facial expression, she clearly was impressed and it seemed as if she approved. The other scouts’ body language was harder to read, but from Hunter’s analysis, he thought they also seemed interested. That is, except for the one scout. They loudly voiced that they didn’t think an eight year old should be responsible for designing a float. Hunter fought back against this naysayer and argued that he was just as capable and, because he was part of the royal family, he knew what would get approved.

“Fucking nepotism baby” the scout growled.

Steve stood up quickly and grabbed the other scout by their cloak.

“Watch your mouth, jerk! You think the kid has any control who he’s related to? Think before you speak or I’ll make sure you don’t get to speak!” Steve yelled, the hand not holding the cloak balled up into a fist.

Lilith grabbed her staff and put it between the two scouts.

“Steve, release them. We won’t get anywhere by screaming at each other.” she said in a calm voice.

Steve released them and both sat back down, glaring at the other from underneath their masks. Lilith sighed and turned to Hunter.

“I think this will do quite nicely” she said, gesturing to his design. “Why don’t we take it to the emperor for approval?” she asked.

Hunter nodded and began rushing towards the throne room, paper in hand. Lilith had to jog in order to keep up with the child. He was fast, despite his short stature. Once they reached the large double doors, Lilith paused to catch her breath while Hunter announced his presence to the emperor. The doors swung open and she followed him inside, kneeling in front of the throne.

Belos took the design from Hunter and inspected it. Hunter held his breath, hoping his design would be sufficient.

“Yes, I think this will do quite nicely. However, do we have the funds to make this a reality?” Belos asked while staring at Lilith.

“If we use cheaper materials from the Construction Coven and ensure the other floats are smaller and quicker to build, then yes, we should have enough snails to pay for this, Emperor Belos.” Lilith reported.

“Good.” Belos said tersely. “Lilith, a moment,” he ordered, nodding towards the door.

Lilith bowed her head before leaving the room, the noise of the doors closing echoing through the cavernous space. Belos removed his mask and placed it on the seat of his throne before descending the stairs towards Hunter.

“You did well, my boy. This will be perfect for the parade, as ridiculous as the whole thing is” Belos expounded.

“Thank you, Uncle” Hunter expressed.

“I do have a question for you, though. How would you deal with someone who did something they were not supposed to and didn’t own up to it before I found out about it?” Belos asked.

Hunter was taken aback by the question. He wasn’t sure where Belos was coming from, as the question was very sudden and specific.

“Uncle?” Hunter probed.

Belos began pacing, hands gesturing in a floating fashion that would have been entrancing to watch, if not for the situation Hunter was in.

“Well, I figured I should ask. The Titan doesn’t take well to those who disobey and, on top of that, lie or omit the truth. So, how should I handle this situation, Hunter? After you went where you weren’t supposed to?” he said sternly, his eyes boring into Hunter.

Hunter stumbled over his words. “Uncle, I- what- I don’t know what you mean-”

“I think you know exactly what I mean, nephew.” Belos cut in, eyes beginning to glow a soft blue. “You went down to the underground labs and were conversing with the basilisks, something that, though I have never explicitly forbidden, you should have known not to investigate. What makes you think you can just wander around in the castle on your own volition and snoop around in areas where there might be things you weren’t meant to see? Not only that, but you’ve been eavesdropping on lessons.” Belos scolded, his voice never rising. He didn’t need to; just his presence in a room ensured instant silence.

Hunter’s sweaty palms were cold and clammy and his heart raced. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I just wanted to learn more than what I was being taught. I was bored and didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to go to certain places. It won’t happen again.” Hunter quickly apologized.

Belos’ eyes narrowed. “Are you really that incapable of entertaining yourself that you feel the need to sneak around the castle? For Titan’s sake, Hunter, do you not understand that what you do directly reflects upon me?” he growled.

Hunter threw himself at Belos, grasping his robes, tears freshly flowing. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I promise I’ll do better! I won’t sneak around anymore! Please!” he begged.

Belos grabbed Hunter’s arm tightly and threw him off, causing Hunter to fall to the ground. He stepped away without a word, grabbing his mask and placing it back on his face. Standing at his full height, he towered over Hunter and cast a dark shadow.

“Go to your room and stay there. You are not to get dinner tonight. Do not talk to anyone. I hope you realize that I can see everything that happens in my castle and in the future, remember that I am always watching.” Without another word, an aura of red magic surrounded Hunter and sent him outside the throne room. As the door closed, the last thing Hunter saw was Belos’ glowing blue eyes, blazing with fury, looking directly at him.

Chapter Text

Hunter loved his uncle more than anything in the world. He worried constantly for his health, scared that the curse would get worse. He tried to do everything Belos wanted of him, but he always seemed to mess things up. Despite the love for his uncle, Hunter was currently fuming. He hadn’t talked to Belos for days, the man purposefully giving him the cold shoulder. Hunter wanted to go to him to talk so he could make up for what he had done, but instead of telling him what he could do to remedy his behavior, Belos instead decided to ignore him completely. Since Hunter was isolated from the scouts, this meant that he was without any social contact for days. This caused him to feel slightly bitter towards his uncle. However, the other part of his brain was telling him to stop being childish and that he was acting selfish. He made a mistake, and he needed to own up to it. Suspiciously, the voice in his head telling him this sounded a lot like Belos. Hunter figured that it was probably because he learned most things from his uncle so, naturally, his voice of reason would sound like Belos as well.

Still, Hunter was growing lonely. He liked time to himself sometimes, but he valued the time he got to spend with his uncle. Belos was naturally less affectionate and often was silent, but this current silence was different. There was an edge of purposeful shunning, as if he wanted to cause the most anguish and loneliness to teach Hunter a lesson. All Hunter knew was that he would never sneak around again. He never wanted to feel this lonely and hated by the one person that was supposed to be on his side. Because, truthfully, he only had his uncle, and his uncle only had him. There was no one else to look after them.

Hunter was keeping busy by studying his books (the proper ones, not the ones under his bed; he couldn’t risk it). Although he knew he was being a good nephew, he couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched. He thought he saw blue eyes in the cracks in his walls and he could swear he could hear a clinking of metal armor from behind him. He shook it off and told himself he was just being ridiculous. He buried his nose into the books once again, rereading the same paragraph over and over again, his brain not able to process the text.

Against his better judgment, he closed the book and transferred from his desk to his bed. He lay back while feeling guilty about not being able to study. How useful was he, lounging around while he could be advancing his knowledge? He hoped no one was watching to see the pitiful state he was in, though he couldn’t be sure that no one was. Once again, despite his eyes being tightly shut, he saw the doors of the throne room closing and his uncle’s eyes glowing a furious electric blue from behind his mask. Hunter heard a rustle, almost like wings coming from his left, near the window. He opened his eyes and sat up.

On the windowsill sat a small, round yellow bird with an orange tuft of feathers on its head. Its beady black eyes stared directly at Hunter, seeming to see directly into his mind. Hunter felt wary of it; it could be a spy, watching to make sure he was doing the right thing.

“Hi?” Hunter said warily. The bird tilted its head, causing Hunter to giggle at how funny it looked. “You’re kinda cute. Are you lost?” he asked the bird. It didn’t respond, only fluttering its wings.

Hunter attempted to reach out to it, but it stepped away from his outstretched hand. He felt a pang of sadness as he’d hoped the bird would keep him company. He figured though, just in case if it was a spy, he should try to study again. He returned to his desk and pulled out a different book than earlier. Finding it easier to focus, he was able to scribble down a few notes. He was so zoned in on his work that he didn’t hear the bird making noises behind him. It let out a shrieking noise as it hopped down into his room, suddenly growing larger and more vicious, rows of sharp teeth dropping downwards from its beak. The claws on its feet grew sharper, and the once beady eyes glittered dangerously.

Hunter turned around quickly and saw the beast before screaming and diving beneath his desk. Though he didn’t learn much from Darius, he’d overheard him talking with Eberwolf about different beasts. Even from his limited knowledge, Hunter knew this was a cuckoo, a type of demon known for laying its eggs in another’s nest which resulted in the cuckoo chick viciously killing any other nestlings. They also, over years, had grown vicious towards witches as well, becoming larger and more frightening to boot.

The cuckoo tilted its head in a far less adorable fashion, scanning the room for the small boy. Hunter shrunk backwards under his desk, hoping to be able to hide well enough so it didn’t see him. Unfortunately, the bird saw the flash of his cape which it took in its beak and used to drag him back out.

Hunter immediately went into a state of fight-or-flight, using his hands to try and pry open the bird’s beak. It retaliated by grabbing him by his foot and lifting him into the air. Flailing his arms around, Hunter managed to poke the beast in its eye, making it drop him. He landed with a thud and he wasted no time scrambling towards the door, wrenching it open. He tried shutting it behind him in order to trap the cuckoo, but it was pushing back. Its sheer size and bloodlust won out and it burst out the door as Hunter began running down the hallway, the cuckoo in quick pursuit. Hunter’s lessons of dodging and evading kicked in and he began ducking and weaving, trying to disorient the bird.

He was able to get the bird off of his back for a moment long enough to locate the throne room. Even if uncle would punish him for entering unannounced, it would be better than him being killed by a malicious bird. Luckily, the throne room was empty, save for the emperor who was sitting on the throne, mask removed, and sorting through paperwork. Hunter quickly shut the door and ran over to his uncle.

“Uncle, help! There’s a big bird chasing me and I think it wants to eat me!” Hunter pleaded, tugging on Belos’ robes.

“Hunter, what is this nonsense? You’re supposed to be in your room. Return there now and I won’t have to punish you for this. Do I make myself clear?” Belos warned, his voice alone after two days of silence immediately comforting Hunter despite the threat in his words.

“Uncle, please, I'm telling the truth! It’s outside the door!” Hunter begged. As if on cue, there was a scratching noise coming from the door before it gave way to an orange beak probing its way into the room. Belos stood, grabbing his staff while the bird stuck its head into the throne room, quickly followed by its body. It let out a horrific screech before lunging at Belos.

“Uncle!” Hunter yelled. Belos’ staff glowed red as he teleported and rematerialized behind the bird. He cast magical ropes, binding the bird and sending it crashing down to the floor. It wriggled within the restraints, gnashing its teeth. Using his staff, Belos cast his voice throughout the castle, the magic causing it to pulsate from the walls, as he called for Eberwolf. He quickly replaced his mask and stepped back from the cuckoo.

Within a few moments, the Beast Coven leader appeared in the throne room, scurrying on all fours. They squeaked and growled at the bird, before doing the same at Belos. Belos nodded, seeming to understand the Huntsman’s method of communication.

“Yes, I know it's a cuckoo, Eberwolf. I was hoping you would be able to dispose of it before it continues to terrorize my nephew.” Belos said, glaring underneath his mask.

Eberwolf saluted, taking the magical ropes in hand before dragging it out of the throne room by himself, a great feat for someone of such a small stature. The doors closed, the cuckoo letting out an ear-splitting shriek one last time before the doors muffled the noise from outside.

Belos turned to Hunter, the glow his staff fading. He removed his mask once again and, to Hunter’s surprise, knelt down to Hunter’s height.

He placed his hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Well, with that all settled, why don’t you return to your room, hm? All this fuss over a little bird? I expected more from my future Golden Guard. You were cowering like a ratworm kit.” The mixed messages from his uncle stalled Hunter’s brain. He was looking him directly in the eye and was making physical contact, yet he was being scolded for not being brave?

“Uncle, I- I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave like you.” Hunter mumbled, eyes cast down to avoid Belos’ gaze.

Belos sighed. “I can’t have you being weak, Hunter. The Golden Guard must be brave, willing to take on any challenge. You’ve disappointed me greatly today. I expect better from you.” he said, removing his hand and standing up. “It seems more lessons in combat are needed. You need to start acting like the Golden Guard and not some whiny, scared little toddler. You aren’t a baby, Hunter, so stop acting like one.” Belos’ words cut in deep. Hunter turned to leave, his head bowed in shame. What was a few more days of silence to him anyway? It was what he deserved.

Chapter Text

As Hunter turned nine years old, he had grown in both stature and strength. He was more easily able to take part in combat and his teachers were impressed with how quickly he was advancing. He also was more skilled in spell casting with the training wand. He was promised that, if he made it through scout trials properly, he’d receive a staff with artificial magic. However, he’d first need to join the other scouts on the month-long excursion to the Knee for the trials. If he stayed on track with his current training, he’d be the youngest ever to go through scout trials.

That being said, he had more tests to go through than the average scout before he’d be allowed to even attempt the trials. Of course, this was cause for some unkind words from the other scouts, but Hunter easily ignored it all. He had to impress not only the captains leading the trials, but his uncle as well.

He had situated himself in the library with a stack of books, studying to the best of ability to ensure he passed the exam. This test was notorious for weeding out the imbeciles before they were tested on other aspects such as strength, cooperation, and ideals. As the youngest of the scouts, Hunter had much more work to do due to his shorter time of education.

After days of nonstop studying, Hunter made his way to a lecture hall where the exam would be proctored by, unfortunately for everyone, Kikimora. The small demon stood at the front, arms crossed behind her back. The other scouts filed in, removing their masks as they searched for the desk they were assigned. Hunter’s was conveniently at the front of the room and, as he suspected, it was most likely so Kikimora could watch him the whole time. This made his stomach turn; the Coven leader wouldn’t pass up an excuse to try and blame him for something.

As the proctors passed out the exams, Hunter wished he got special treatment and could take the exam privately. He wasn’t a bad test taker, but the constant cacophony of noise from the scratching of quills, sniffing and coughing, and the creak of the rickety chairs made his brain seize up and his concentration wane.

He told himself it was fine and that, if he just concentrated, he could prove that he knew what he was doing. Kikimora announced to the room to turn over the exam and start writing. Hunter started reading the questions:

Question 1: What are the names of the main 9 Covens and who are the Heads of each?

Easy, Hunter thought. He continued through most of the questions without incident, making his best guesses on some that he was less confident on. It was only until there were around 25 minutes left that things started going wrong. He’d been able to block out those around him for most of the exam, however, as his anxiety level due to both the stress of being in the exam room and of a chain of more difficult questions, Hunter’s head was starting to buzz and his heart was racing. Every little sound was like a loud din to him, and his concentration completely left him.

He still had several questions left on his paper which, despite his current state, he quickly worked to finish so he could leave and go back to his quiet room. Without really thinking, Hunter scribbled down several answers, not really caring if he got them right or not. The pressure was just simply too much for him to handle. He put his quill down and stood up, his legs nearly buckling underneath him. He walked to the proctors, handing them his exam, then quickly making his way out of the lecture hall.

Once he was out, he started running, headed straight for his room, proper rules meaning nothing to him. He burst through the door to his room, shutting it behind himself and then throwing himself onto his bed, grabbing Sprig and hugging him tightly as he tried to control his breathing, letting his body relax from the adrenaline coursing through his body. Even when he began to calm down, he still found it hard to sleep that night, the thought of the exam not being up to the standards he would be held at plaguing his mind.

Chapter Text

Hunter had immersed himself in training for days in order to distract himself from the exam. He found that, in a strange way, combat training was therapeutic to him and it doubled as a good way to increase his strength. Despite constantly keeping his brain distracted, he found himself feeling anxious about the exam. He had studied to the best of his abilities and he felt decently confident about most of his answers. He just couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that he would fail and that it would be the end of him as the next Golden Guard.

When he went to get his meal, he overheard some scouts talking about the exam. As he listened in, he could pick out a few pieces of information from them.

“Dude, they said we’d get our results back today!” one scout said.

“What happens when we pass? Oh Titan, what happens if we fail?!” another asked, their voice sounding panicked.

“Hey, it’ll be fine. We did our best, and if things don’t work out, then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. There’s still plenty of other options for employment on the Isles!” a third, that Hunter recognized as Steve, said.

While Hunter was glad to hear the optimism in Steve’s voice, he also knew he was distinct from the other scouts. He had no room for failure and if he did, well, he didn’t want to think about that scenario.

Suddenly, despite the rules against running, a scout burst into the cafeteria waving their hands.

“Exam results are posted by the lecture hall we took it in!”, they yelled. This information caused a mass rush as every scout-in-training shoved their way out of the cafeteria to make it to the place where the results could be found. Hunter, being the smallest, had to avoid being trampled on by the larger scouts. Thankfully, due to his knowledge of the castle, he took a different way to get to the lecture hall. This enabled him to reach it quickly enough, but there was still a mass of scouts blocking the hallway.

He pushed other scouts out of the way, much to their chagrin, and had to stand on his tiptoes to even begin to try and see. He lost track of the amount of times he said “excuse me” while trying to see.

“Need a hand?” a voice said from behind him. Hunter turned to see Steve offering his hand to Hunter. He nodded and Steve carefully scooped him up and put him on his shoulders. Hunter located the paper with everyone’s scout number on it, and their score out of 200 possible points next to it. Hunter had no problem finding his number; his was unique from everyone else’s in that it was the only one starting with a zero. Only Coven Officials like the Heads, Kikimora, Lilith, and himself had these numbers. As he looked at the set of numbers next to his ID, he felt a surge of relief. He’d passed with flying colors: a 190 out of 200. From what he could see from the other scores, very few scouts had similar scores to him, meaning that he scored near the top of the pack. Steve set him down on the floor and, though he couldn’t see his face, Hunter could tell he was smiling.

“Good job kid! You did great! I passed too, so we’ll get to train together!” he cheered. Hunter grinned, telling Steve that he had to go to tell the emperor.

“He probably already knows, kid! Why don’t you take some time for yourself? We’re gonna be celebrating tonight!” Steve announced, causing a cheer from the other scouts.

Hunter politely declined, saying that he wasn’t supposed to engage in those kinds of activities and that he should really get going. He excused himself, heading towards his room. Steve was right, Uncle probably already knew. Still, he was disappointed he hadn’t even heard a congratulatory word from Belos. After all, he’d done well. Hunter sighed as he collapsed on his bed, feeling utterly drained of energy despite the good news. About an hour passed and Hunter heard a knock on his door. He didn’t need to ask who it was; only one person knocked in that specific way.

The door opened to reveal Belos, who stepped in Hunter’s room without any sort of permission. He didn’t need to, he was entitled to checking on Hunter at any time.

“So, I heard about your exam results. I have to say, Hunter, while I am pleased with your score to a point, I am somewhat disappointed that your score was not the highest. There was one scout who scored a few points higher than you. I suppose you didn’t study well enough then, hm?” Belos said, his usual cadence and lilt shifting from kind and melodic to snide and patronizing.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I should have done better” Hunter said robotically, giving in to pleasing his uncle instead of arguing that he did well and he did study to the best of his abilities.

“I suppose this is a lesson to try harder next time. After all, you wouldn’t want to lose your position over a simple test, would you?” The subtle hint of a threat was not lost on Hunter. His uncle wouldn’t hesitate to replace him if it was for the betterment of the Coven.

“No, Uncle. I will do better next time. I’ve gotten very strong and I am skilled in combat.” Hunter explained. This earned him a small head pat, before Belos turned to leave, wishing him a good night and reminding him of his duties for the next day.

Hunter collapsed back onto his bed after Belos shut the door, conflicted on whether to be proud of his accomplishment or extremely disappointed at his shortcomings. He should have done better, he concluded. With a new determination, Hunter set about for preparation for scout trials. No one would be there to catch him if he fell; it was time for him to act like the Golden Guard he was expected to be.

Chapter Text

The day that every new scout in training had been preparing for arrived with some of the worst weather anyone could have been dreading. The skies were cloudy and the air was cold, not to mention the large gusts of wind that threatened to destabilize any airships cruising around the Isles. Unfortunately for the scouts, this was the way they were going to be traveling as, logistically, moving hundreds of scouts by wagon to the Knee would not be feasible.

Hunter, meanwhile, felt a bit guilty. Though each scout was allowed to call their family on crystal balls or crow phones to wish them goodbye, while Hunter was able to wish Belos goodbye in person. He didn’t think it was exactly fair that he was able to have that kind of special treatment, but he knew that his status as the emperor’s nephew was the reason why. He didn’t exactly like that it would lead to more whispers of special treatment and jealousy, but what was he to do?

The scouts were called to congregate in the main hall in order to take attendance and sort them into groups for travel. This meant that, due to the cavernous space, the hundreds of voices echoed in the space and made Hunter want to escape. He gripped his travel sack tightly, hoping they could get going soon. He was being squished between two tall scouts who were loudly arguing about who was going to do better at the trials. He was relieved when a captain stepped forward and signaled to get their attention.

“Alright everyone, listen up! I will call your identification number to put you in groups. You will then follow your captain to an airship. We will not be repeating numbers, so listen carefully!” the captain said at the top of her voice to ensure her message was heard over the crowd.

Groups consisted of 10 scouts each and, since there were around 200 scouts, there were 20 groups. Hunter ended up in Group 15 along with, to his surprise and relief, Steve and one of his bunkmates, Xenos. Unfortunately for Hunter, he was also put in a group with the scout who had criticized him during parade preparations: Tade Crimson. Hunter nearly groaned out loud when he saw them step towards his group. Great, he wouldn’t be able to escape the hostile atmosphere even if he tried. The scouts were then informed that the groups were final and they would be training with their group against other groups.

Hunter and the rest of Group 15 followed their designated captain to an airship labeled with the number 15. He boarded it and sat in one of the seats along the edge, strapping himself in. Most airships didn’t have seats, but these were special transport ones made for bad weather conditions. Once everyone was boarded, the airship roared to life and was directed into the air. The wind rocked the ship, making a few of the scouts double over, holding their stomachs. Hunter gripped the edges of his seat tightly, trying to focus on the sky as they moved. His body shivered with the absolutely freezing temperatures and biting wind; his thin scout’s uniform certainly did nothing to aid in this aspect.

The ride was unremarkable, except that it took nearly 3 hours to reach the Knee from the castle. Hunter was already beginning to miss the castle, as tough as it could be sometimes. The airship finally landed and he exited the ship with the rest of his group. 20 tents were set up in rows across the snow-covered landscape, each labeled with the group numbers. Hunter and his fellow scouts were directed to their tent where they set up their cots and outfitted them with blankets. They were then instructed to light a fire so they could cook their meal and set about developing a schedule for maintaining the fire through the night. Each of them would take a shift to keep the fire going while the others slept. Thankfully, everyone agreed to let Hunter have the first shift and Steve graciously volunteered to do two shifts, one with Hunter.

As the day drew to a close and Hunter munched on his paltry meal, he couldn’t help but be a little homesick. He wanted nothing better than to be with his uncle, even if it was just him watching Belos repair things. He’d even help with paperwork, something he normally hated, if it meant being safe in the castle. That night, Hunter could do nothing but shiver in his sleeping bag as he listened to the howling wind outside and wondered what he would have to endure over the next rhythm.

Chapter Text

Hunter awoke to a high pitched noise blasting in his ear from somewhere near him. He groggily opened his eyes and sat up, the cold air instantly hitting him on his bare skin. Around him, his group mates also rose, rubbing the exhaustion from their eyes. They thankfully didn’t need to change, as they’d all slept in their uniforms, minus their cloaks. Breakfast was a somber affair; no one really talked to one another and it felt like a moment of peace before the storm.

Each group organized with their captain and they were all led to a part of the Knee where the snow had been cleared and an arena was built. The main captain stood on top of a boulder, raising her spear into the air to signal for silence.

“You will be individually dueling witches from other groups. This will be a competition, round-robin style. The loser of each duel will be eliminated, and the winner will move on to the next round. This is a magic-free fight! Any use of magic will result in an instant elimination. Once the pool of competitors has been reduced, you may have to compete against those from your own group. The winner will receive a surprise. Alright, let’s get started!” the captain explained. She then directed each pairing of competitors. Hunter had to wait around and watch as the other pairs battled it out, waiting for his ID number to be called.

Finally, he heard it, followed by another scout’s number who he didn’t recognize. As it turned out, it was another of Steve’s roommates, Konrad, who had been placed in a different group. Hunter braced himself, allowing Konrad to make the first move. Because of his small size, Hunter had learned to fight in a very distinctive style, dashing around and hitting from different angles, especially weak points such as the knees and abdomen. He also was often underestimated for his size and age, so he could make moves that his opponent wouldn’t expect.

He felt bad, as he saw Konrad collapse, holding his bleeding nose. He had a duty to attend to, though. He needed to prove himself worthy of being the Golden Guard by winning against his challengers because, if he couldn’t do that, how was he any better than just another coven scout?

Konrad was led over to a healer and Hunter was able to sit on the sidelines with the other winners while the round finished and, as he was pleased to see, Steve knocked his opponent out with a punch to the head, causing the other witch to collapse and hit their head on the ground. Hunter winced, it had to have hurt. He couldn’t worry for the safety of others, though, as he would now face down against another opponent.

He heard his number called once again after a few other battles and prepared himself yet again for another opponent. This one was a bit larger than Konrad was, and she was extremely muscular. Hunter remembered from training with Kampf that his best bet against someone much larger than him was to not only attack their weak points, but to try and cling to them to try and get them to accidentally hit themselves while they were trying to hit him. She lunged at Hunter, her claws bared. Hunter jumped aside, causing his opponent to double back. When she went to hit him, he grabbed her arm and hung on to it. He’d seen older scouts be able to flip someone over while grabbing their arm, but Hunter wasn’t big enough to do that quite yet. Instead, as she went to try and grab him, he scrambled onto her shoulders, his arms crossed around her throat.

He was rewarded by his opponent attempting to pry him off her neck, but he hung on tightly, hearing her struggling to breathe. Eventually she collapsed to her knees, giving Hunter the signal to drop down to the ground. She surrendered to him, trudging off to join the losers.

Several more rounds passed with Hunter’s fighting style winning against several cocky scouts who thought a nine-year-old was no match for them. Hunter managed to deck one in the face, earning his opponent a nice black eye, and another got a kick to their lower area, causing them to immediately collapse, spewing profanities in his direction. They recovered quickly enough, energized by the pain he’d inflicted and made for his throat. Unluckily for them, Hunter aimed another kick at them, landing his foot squarely in their mouth. They surrendered with their lip split open and bleeding, reminding Hunter of his own accident.

Steve, who got punched in the face, was defeated by his opponent in the next round, leaving only 10 scouts, including Hunter and Tade Crimson. Hunter could have predicted what would come next: he and Tade were paired to fight against each other. Hunter went over to Steve, making sure he was ok.

“No problem, kid. Ice pack for Steve!” he replied, much more cheerily than Hunter would have been had he been punched in the face. Steve had more optimism than most people he knew, something that was infectious to many around him.

Hunter faced Tade, evaluating their condition. They had an ankle that had been healed up in one of the past rounds and, from observing their fighting style, Hunter had deduced that they were a lunger. He had also observed them for their tell: any subtle movement that could give away when they would attack. Unfortunately, from his vantage point, he couldn’t see one.

Tade ran at him full force and managed to land a punch to his stomach. Hunter got up quickly and resorted to his usual fighting style but, as he had done to them, they clearly had been watching him and had learned his fighting style. They managed to connect a few more punches before Hunter started trying to cling to them and get them to collapse. He used the same tactic he’d used to cut off the other scout’s breathing, except that he was not able to get a good grip quickly enough, causing him to nearly fall off of Tade. They grabbed him tightly, flinging him off their back and pinning him to the ground. Their hands closed around his arms and chest, immobilizing him.

A slimy hand pinned him to a wall, his cheek scar burned with the force of a firebee sting, and Tade’s angry face melted away and reformed into the curse, the cold blue eyes searing into his. He heard the monster roar as it raised its other hand, claws extended. The hand flew down towards him, but before it could slice him, the beast dropped him. Hunter felt the hands around his body leave him as yelling could be heard around him. His vision reformed and he saw an angry Tade being pulled off of him, yelling loudly.

“I didn’t use magic! I was trying to get him to surrender but he isn't answering me! You all saw it! He was laying there like a stuffed dummy! Look at him!” they screamed.

“There is no excuse for trying to perform a spell when we explicitly told you not to, especially not one that is used for torture! This is a child and the emperor’s nephew! You could be killed for hurting him!” a captain retorted.

Tade lost full control, nearly attacking the captain in the process.
“How do you think he got those scars? Training? No! I’ve watched this kid grow up! He only gets scars that bad when he’s around Belos!” they yelled. “I don’t care if I get eliminated or even thrown out! This kid is in danger! Why can’t anyone see that?” they shouted.

“What you are suggesting is treason against the throne. You’re under arrest, Mx. Crimson. GUARDS!” the captain ordered, the guards grabbing them and cuffing them. They led them away, meanwhile they continued to yell about how Belos was a monster and how he was ruining the Isles.

“You ok, kid?” the captain asked. Hunter nodded. Tade was just confused and stressed; they probably missed home and wanted to quit anyway. Uncle had only hurt him because the curse flared up. Anything else was to teach him a lesson. He saw scouts being punished all the time. Pain was a good motivator to do better next time. Hunter was informed that he wouldn’t have to battle anyone else; they’d have multiple winners. He was led back to his tent where he collapsed on his cot, his body radiating pain and his mind muddled.

Steve joined him after a while, continually asking if Hunter was alright. Once Hunter convinced him that he was, in fact, doing alright, Steve let him in on a secret. He had overheard the captains discussing the next stage of trials. They would be put into a maze where they would have to battle demons and avoid traps. Those that weren’t caught and made it out of the maze would get to move on. Unfortunately for Hunter, he was also told that magic would be factored in this time. He didn’t have a training wand to help him, and he couldn’t do magic by himself. He groaned, letting Steve know he wanted to be alone. He needed time to think and prepare himself for the absolute fool he would make of himself. This is where he would fail; there wasn’t room for magicless witches in the Emperor’s Coven. He guessed he could say goodbye to that Golden Guard title after all. And to his relationship with Belos. Who’d want to be an uncle to a failure like him?

Chapter Text

Hunter sat eating breakfast in the bone-chilling air, the piercing cold making his aching body hurt more. He had been monitoring the tapestry of bruises he’d received from the duels and nearly all of them were a sickly shade of yellow or a deep purplish-black. Hunter guessed that he could be grateful that he didn’t get a black eye like Steve or broken bones like another scout in his group. Still, Group 15 was down one scout, due to Tade’s mad rampage while dueling Hunter. He hoped that they would simply be put in the Conformatorium for a while to think about what they had said, but Hunter had a sinking feeling that they’d receive a much worse punishment.

He finished up his meal and joined his group to hike to the arena. They’d reconfigured the space overnight, replacing the open dirt pit with tall, writhing hedges. Hunter could swear he heard roaring from inside the wall of plants, though he couldn’t be quite so sure. He was then told by the captain that the group would go in as a team, as this was a challenge about cooperation. Hunter was thankful for this; he could still be useful even if he couldn’t do magic.

Other groups were sent into the maze first, one at a time. After a period of time passed, they sent the next one in. This was to ensure groups wouldn’t overlap much and each obstacle was able to reset itself. While he waited, Hunter could hear screaming coming from inside the maze. He shuddered, not from the cold, but from the anticipation of whatever could be in the maze.

Finally, after about 30 minutes of waiting, Group 15 was signaled to enter. Everyone else prepared themselves with spell circles, and Hunter could do nothing except stand there awkwardly. The hedges parted aside and the group passed through, the spiky branches closing behind them. Silence fell over the maze as Hunter and his group started walking forward.

They reached a fork in the path. “Take a right?” one scout asked. Everyone nodded and turned right, walking slowly on the new path. One of the scouts in the front stepped forward and was pulled into the hedges by thorny vines. His screams echoed in the maze. The rest of the group jumped back, and one witch who was skilled in plant magic drew a spell circle, controlling the vines so the rest of the party could pass. He then rushed forward, pushing everyone into a different corridor so the vines would deactivate.

They continued walking for a bit with no further interruptions until, yet again, they reached another fork. This time, they all agreed to go left. Again, nothing happened for a while. Hunter was beginning to feel a bit afraid. He assumed the maze would contain many obstacles but, the more he thought about it, he understood that it was probably set up like this in order to lull people into a false sense of security and catch them off guard. Going for long enough without any challenges meant that someone would get sloppy and make a mistake. Soon enough, Hunter was proven correct. He noticed a strange smell hanging in the air and immediately yanked his cloak over his nose and mouth. Several others caught on, but some did not, and they fell to the ground with their eyes glazed over.

“Sleeping nettles.” Steve said, his voice muffled. “There’s nothing we can do for them, we can’t drag them around” he instructed. The group was forced to leave the nettle-stung scouts on the ground in hopes that they’d be rescued by someone else. They continued through the maze taking a right, then a left, and then another right.
The remaining scouts paused for a moment when a colder gust of wind blew over them. A dark figure appears in front of them. It spotted the scout in front and rushed towards her, changing shape as it did. It paused, taking the new form of a gildersnake. The scout screamed, trying to form a spell circle, but ultimately failing. Hunter, though he’d heard very little about it, recognized the type of creature it was. He’d heard that Hexside, one of the schools for magic, had a fearbringer beneath their floors, Grom, they called it. He heard some scouts talking about the event where a selected student would have to fight it in order to keep it from escaping.

Other scouts rushed forward and used spells to distract it, but it kept changing form and scaring each scout, causing their spells to be less effective. The fearbringer then turned towards Hunter, who had been staying at the back due to his lack of magic. It grew in size and morphed into a very familiar form. Belos stared down at him with piercing blue eyes, slowly walking towards him. He then started to change shape, growing even taller and morphing into his cursed form. Steve saw the fearbringer approaching Hunter, who was frozen in place, his whole body tensed. Steve raised a spell circle and blasted fire at the monster. The fearbringer shriveled from the heat of the flames and shrunk into the hedges.

“Hunter, you good dude?” Steve asked, running over to the child. Hunter nodded, his eyes still wide with fear.

“Hey guys, I think I’ve figured something out,” one scout announced. “Each obstacle has corresponded to a type of Coven magic. The vines were Plants, the nettles were Potions, and the fearbringer was Oracle.” they explained. Everyone stared at them and processed.

“I think you’re right!” Steve agreed, followed by everyone else in the group. With the new information at hand, the group progressed, able to bypass the Beast Coven slitherbeast, which knocked them around a bit before one scout was able to cast magic ropes around it. Next, they hit the sirens, a type of Bard magic that could lure other witches into dangerous situations by controlling their movements. The scouts clamped their hands on their ears, running forward to prevent themselves from being targeted by the sirens.

They turned right again and weren’t met with anything for a while. Steve tried asking Hunter why the fearbringer turned into Belos, but all Hunter could respond with was that he didn’t want to let him down. He couldn’t tell Steve that he was afraid to be replaced, or that his uncle’s curse would kill him.

They stopped at a wall of bricks blocking the path. The scouts decided to form a witch ladder, boosting each other up and over the wall. The Construction Coven obstacle down, there were three left: Healing, Abomination, and Illusions. The next path they took flipped their vision upside-down, causing several scouts to collapse, falling skyward. Collecting their thoughts, the others grabbed them, hanging on tightly as they cast a spell, reversing the illusion and getting their feet back onto solid ground, the world right-side up again.

Turning left, they had to cast a shield as a hail of scalpels rained down on them. One scout got poked in the hand by a stray scalpel, yelling out a string of profanities.

“The Titan hates cursing!” Hunter yelled at them.

“I just got stabbed! Fuck you!” they retorted.

“Hey!” Steve yelled, clamping his hands over Hunter’s ears, eyes narrowed at the scout.

“Whatever” they sneered, using a time-saving gesture to relay the same message to Steve.

The group met their final obstacle, a giant Abomination, after a few more turns. Luckily for them, one of their group members was supposed to join the Abomination Coven, but had switched last minute to join the Emperor’s Coven. He raised his own abomination, close to the size of the opposing one. They locked their goopy arms and tried to shove the other into the hedges. The smaller of the two managed to get a fist through the other’s “abdomen”, sending it into the shrubs, its gooey texture causing it to get stuck there.

The group cheered, elated that, to their knowledge, they had beat every challenge. They cast a navigation spell, directing them to where the exit was. Light opened up ahead of them and they all rushed out, happy to be free of the thorny hedges. The captain announced that their group and only 7 other groups had successfully made it through, however, they’d get points docked for losing two group members. Group 15 didn’t care, though. They’d made it out alive and well; it was enough for them.

Hunter and his group returned to their tent, cooking up a celebratory meal of the standard rations. It was gross and the bread was stale, but they didn’t care. They all chatted excitedly about their victory and, for once, Hunter didn’t feel so lonely.

So this is what it’s like having friends, he thought, listening to the bawdy voice of Steve epically narrating his victory over the fearbringer.

Chapter Text

The scouts got a few days of rest with regular training after the maze incident. Lots of scouts were injured in the process, so the captains decided to let everyone have a few days off. They also needed some time to prepare the scouts and themselves for the final stage of scout trials. Some scouts with older siblings that were already initiated said that it would be a battle of wits, others said it would be about survival. No one was really sure, as rumors flew fast and furious in the castle and the truth was rarer than fiction.

All Hunter knew was that, after a few days, the scouts were called forward. They received a large knapsack with a heavy sleeping bag, rations, and cold weather gear, as well as a few choice weapons. They were then informed that, as their final trial, they would be forced to hike up to the summit of the knee and then have to make it all the way back down to the Greater Trochanter. They were warned that this would be the most difficult part of their trial and, if they wanted to remain unscathed, they’d be wise to stick together, all groups combined as one unit.

With all the instructions laid out, the scouts grabbed the knapsack with their name on it and hauled it up onto their backs. Hunter, meanwhile, struggled immensely. The bag was much bigger than he was and a lot heavier as well. He eventually got the straps over his shoulders, but the bottom of the bag was close to dragging on the ground. He would be forced to hold the straps forward so he didn’t keel over backwards. Why they didn’t consider that he was smaller than the others and make a smaller sized bag for him as a result was lost on him.

He couldn’t sit and ponder that for long, though, as all the remaining scouts in each group formed a line and started hiking the trail up to the summit of the knee. Patchy snow and small shrubs with a few evergreen trees lined the edges of the trail. Those in front set the pace and the stragglers in the back had to work to keep up. Hunter had landed in the front end of the middle, Steve before him and another of his group mates behind. The trail was rocky, smaller pebbles and larger gravel and cobbles rolling underfoot. Hunter heard someone behind him yelp, their ankle rolled from stepping on a rock the wrong way.

A few hours passed and the shrubs and trees gave way to low scrub. The snow was deeper and the air got colder and drier. A few scouts started complaining of being tired, but the pacemakers didn’t slow down; they needed to reach the summit by dark. Hunter was starting to struggle to keep up, his smaller legs not able to make the same stride length as others. Steve turned to see Hunter slowing down and helped him by holding his hand. Hunter reminded him of Matty and he would do anything to help his baby brother. Because he couldn’t see Matty until the annual day off, he’d have to do with trying to look after Hunter. It was the least he could do for the kid.

Finally, after hours of trekking, the group reached the summit, marked with a small stone cairn and a faded wooden sign that informed them that they were at the highest point of elevation on the Isles. The wind whipped around them, chilling their breath as it left their masks. The scout at the head of the pack dropped her sack and undid the straps holding a tent. Other scouts from each group also undid their tents and each scout rushed to help get them set up. Others went to look for anything they could use to start a fire and keep it kindled. Lichens and any dry mosses were all they could find to help. These were placed in each tent and one scout cast fire spells on the tinder.

The scouts laid out their sleeping bags in the tent, immediately getting into them and hunkering down. They pulled out their rations and ate them, not wasting the heat of the fire on warming them up. Some scouts softened their stale bread by dipping it in water, others just let their saliva do it for them. Hunter took his meal slowly; he didn’t know when they would be able to eat again.

As scouts finished their rations, they scooted closer to the fire. The risk of hypothermia and frostbite was so great that, even if it was terribly uncomfortable, everyone kept their masks on to sleep. Every few hours, the scouts would rotate their sleeping bags, giving someone else the closest spot to the dwindling fire. Hunter didn’t sleep much, craving his bed at the castle and wishing he had Sprig to cuddle with. He most of all missed his uncle. He enjoyed being around the scouts, for once, but he still felt like a bit of an outsider with them. Uncle was the only one to truly understand him and now that he didn’t have that, it caused him to feel afraid. If Uncle’s curse took him away from Hunter one day, he didn’t know what he’d do. He certainly didn’t enjoy the feelings he was having at the moment as a result of not having Belos to fall back upon.

That kind of thinking was making him weak, he concluded. He had to learn to be independent, to not rely on others. He didn’t know if or when Belos would no longer be around, but if he wanted to succeed as the Golden Guard, he’d have to learn to be by himself.

He settled into his sleeping bag, his eyes closed but not truly resting. He could only hope the other side of the mountain on the trail down was easier, but he couldn’t get his hopes up. Scout trials were notorious for a reason.

Chapter Text

Hunter was shaken awake by Steve who yelled that they had to leave. The other groups were packing up their tents, rushing to eat their rations before the group had to start the hike. Hunter packed up his sleeping bag and put his knapsack on his back, rushing out of the tent so the others could pack it up.

After every group got their tent tied down, the scouts found the trail down the Knee. It was steep, extremely rocky, and coated with ice. If someone wasn’t careful and paying attention to their footing, they could easily slip. The group started down the trail, picking their footholds very carefully.

They were able to walk for about a mile before the trail conditions got worse. The snow was so deep that the trail was barely visible, and the snow flying in the air was creating whiteout conditions. The scouts had to trudge on, heads bowed and feet slowly going numb. They couldn’t tell what time it was, as the snow blocked out the sun, casting them in dim light.

Hunter wasn’t sure for how much longer they walked before he heard someone behind him groan. He and Steve, who was right next to him, turned around. A scout had collapsed into the snow, hunched over. They were shivering uncontrollably, not able to stand back up. Other scouts passed them, not bothering to give aid. They had no way to help, the frostbite would claim the collapsed scout. Hunter yelled out to them, but Steve grabbed his arm gently.

“There’s nothing you can do for them, kid. We gotta keep moving” he said over the roar of the wind. Hunter felt the tears rolling down his cheeks freeze, despite his mask. He turned away, continuing to trudge through the snow.

The group got halfway down the Knee before they paused to take in what was happening. There were only 15 scouts left in total. Many had been left behind due to frostbite and hypothermia, one had fallen prey to a slitherbeast, and several more had gotten lost because they strayed from the trail due to the lack of vision from the snow.

Hunter craved rest, wanting to lay down right then and there in the snow. However, he knew it would be a death sentence if he did. This was what the scout trials were notorious for. A long hike down a dangerous mountain with no rest or breaks. It was a test of endurance and one’s own personal will. Only those with the strongest wills to survive would do so.

They hiked two more miles before Hunter’s feet started feeling like they were getting frostbite. His hands, though covered by gloves, weren’t much better. The snow, thankfully, was starting to get less deep, and they were nearing their final destination. The trees thickened and grew taller, and the skies cleared of the worst of the snow.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake beneath their feet. All the scouts stopped, bracing their feet. The unlucky scouts in the back were pulled downwards by a mass of rock and mud. A yawning chasm opened beneath their feet and sucked them into it, their screams echoing in the depths of the crevice. Despite their training, the other scouts began panicking. One level-headed scout told them all to not move any closer to the hole, saying they needed to keep moving because one landslide would trigger another.

Hunter felt numb, not just from the cold. How many witches had he seen die today? No one did anything to save them, they were forgotten. Their families wouldn’t get to bring them home to say goodbye. He knew the Emperor’s Coven was competitive, but was the sacrifice of innocent scouts really worth it?

His uncle had said that the punishment from the Titan would be so much worse if the scourge of wild magic was not exterminated. In this way, the sacrifice was worth it, and this was the way things needed to be.

The trail leveled out and a signpost informed them that they had finally reached the Greater Trochanter. They were met by a few captains who, though Hunter couldn’t see their faces, had looks of complete shock on their faces. Only 7 beaten, muddied, and bloodied scouts stood before them, their eyes hollow and their bodies in shock.

The captains tended to any injuries and let the survivors rest for several days afterward before they were all put onto one airship to return to the castle. On the ride back, no one spoke, and everyone could do nothing but stare with empty eyes at the floor. Robotically, they returned, cleaning themselves up, eating in the cafeteria, and returning to their rooms. Not one of the last seven scouts slept much for the next rhythm or two. They had witnessed horrors beyond their comprehension.

Chapter Text

Hunter didn’t have to attend to too many duties after he returned from scout trials. Not like he would have been able to handle it, with how hollow he felt inside. He kept replaying the landslide in his head and seeing the captains’ reactions to all seven of the remaining scouts returning to the camp. By now, most of the castle had heard of the incidents at the scout trials, many remarking that their trials had not gone as disastrously. Currently, the Coven Heads and the captains were currently discussing how to make scout trials more safe and ensure that nothing like this would ever happen again.

Meanwhile, Hunter and the seven survivors could do nothing but mourn their fallen comrades. Once they had been considered to be “healed enough” to return to their duties, they were again assigned. However, first, they had to be initiated. Each scout was ordered to surrender their palisman to the Emperor, as members of the Emperor’s Coven were strictly forbidden from using wild magic. Each scout hesitated handing over the friend they had bonded with when they were fourteen, most unaware of the fate their palismen faced at the hands of the Emperor.

Hunter didn’t have a palisman to surrender, but he couldn’t help but shudder at the knowledge that the palismen would eventually be snapped in half by his uncle, their life essence inhaled in order to control the curse.

It’s for his health. It’s not wrong if it means Uncle can stay healthy.

Even if Hunter told himself this, he didn’t fully believe himself. Palismen are dangerous and full of wild magic, right? So why did he feel upset over them, when they weren’t even his?

Soon, as Hunter expected, he was called to Belos. He wasted no time, not even letting Hunter genuflect. Approaching Hunter, he removed his mask, his kind face reflecting a calm smile.

“I’ve heard about scout trials. Though I am, how to say this, less than pleased with your performance, especially while dueling Mx. Crimson, I am pleased to see that you were one of the seven who succeeded. You will be pleased to know that we have properly dealt with that traitor as well. They have joined the other statues in the courtyard. Now, with all that settled, I think it’s about time you became a fully fledged member of this coven, hm?” Belos said. Hunter’s eyes widened at the implications.

“You mean, I can be the Golden Guard?” Hunter asked. To his surprise, Belos chuckled at this.

“No, dear nephew. You still have some more years of training left before I’d even consider that for you. But, since you have proven yourself worthy of the responsibility of being a member of my coven, I think it is time you received your sigil.” he explained.

Hunter felt his heart rise in his chest. This was actually happening for him, he was getting branded. Against his normal judgment he asked a question.

“Will it hurt?” he asked. Belos looked puzzled for a moment, before his face showed that he understood what Hunter meant.

“Only a bit, and it is temporary,” he responded.

Hunter watched as Belos removed his gauntlet from his left hand, his hands pale and fingers long and slender. Hunter rarely saw his uncle’s hands bare. He understood, he also kept his hands covered due to the bad textures he often had to touch. It was his defense against the temptation to wipe his hands repetitively on his tunic, something Belos had corrected early on. After stowing his gauntlet in his cloak, he replaced it with a branding glove instead.

Hunter removed his own glove, rolling up his sleeve and presenting his right forearm to Belos. With his still gauntleted hand, Belos grasped Hunter’s arm firmly, activating the glove and pressing it to his skin. The glove caused smoke and a burning sensation to emanate from Hunter’s arm. He tried wrenching his arm away due to the immense pain as his skin seared, but Belos gripped his arm even tighter, immobilizing it. Once the sigil had fully spread the controlled magic into his veins, Hunter’s arm was released and Belos switched back to his gauntlet.

Hunter observed his arm, seeing the sigil of the Emperor’s Coven on his skin. He was speechless as Belos took his arm again, much more gently this time, and stroked the newly branded sigil with his thumb. Without saying a word, Hunter could see the pride in his eyes. Hunter smiled back, before getting his hair ruffled. He was led out of the throne room, and he walked back to his room, still staring at the sigil on his arm.

Chapter Text

Two years passed since the ill-fated scout trials. All the former scouts-in-training were now members of the Emperor’s Coven as full fledged scouts, branded with sigils and everything. Hunter, meanwhile, was still in training to be the Golden Guard for a couple of years after his branding. His uncle had wanted to ensure that he was fully ready to handle the responsibility of the position.

However, between training and lessons, Hunter didn’t have anything to distract himself from the absolute distraught he was beginning to feel. He, for some strange reason, had begun growing little bumps on his chest. They weren’t as noticeable for a small amount of time, but as of recently, they were beginning to feel sore and were clearly visible through his shirt. He also was starting to smell a little different, and no matter how many showers he took, he felt a bit stinky.

The worst discovery, though, came on a day where he had hours of lessons and training. He was coming back from training with Kampf, his whole shirt soaked through with sweat. Upon entering the castle, he headed straight to his bathroom and got into the shower. Running the water, he cleansed his body of the sweat, but he noticed something strange. The water, instead of running clear, was tinged with pink. Hunter finished up showering as quickly as he could.

Getting dressed again, Hunter ran to Hettie Cutburn’s laboratory. He quickly knocked on the door, begging to be let in. Opening the door for him, Hettie asked him if he was alright.

“Miss Cutburn, I- I think I’m dying” Hunter whimpered. Hettie looked shocked, obviously confused as to what was happening.

“What are you talking about, kid? What happened?” she asked.

Hunter explained how he’d seen blood while showering but he hadn’t seen any cuts on his body that could produce blood. He also explained how, while changing out of his old clothes, he’d seen blood on his pants.

Hettie’s face changed from confused to understanding in a moment. She picked Hunter up and set him down on her exam table.

“I suppose no one has ever explained this to you, so it’ll be my job to do so. Witches have different bodies that do different things. In order to have children, they have to have certain…mechanisms to do so. What you are experiencing is one of the mechanisms. Your body, every month, will release something that could develop into a baby. But, unless it combines with another witch’s…mechanism, it won’t. When this happens, your body basically says ‘well, we don’t need all the nutrients we built up to feed a baby, so we need to get rid of it.’ Those nutrients being shed is what the blood is.” she explained.

“So this happens every month!? For how long?!” Hunter asked.

“Until you’re much older, at which point, it will stop.” Hettie responded.

“So, every witch like me has this? So that means people like Uncle and Darius do too?” Hunter asked.

Hettie sighed. “It’s complicated, but no. They have different mechanisms than you. You were born with one type of body and they were born with another.” she tried explaining.

“So then, if I’m like them. I mean, if I’m a boy, then why don’t I look like them?” Hunter wondered.

Hettie patted him on the head. “That’s the nice part. You don’t have to feel like the body you were born in. If you are a boy, then you’re a boy. Regardless of how you were born. We have special elixirs to help with this, so that your body can match how you feel inside. It won’t make it exactly like how your uncle’s would be, but we can make it so you won’t have to have the blood. And, if you wish, I can do a surgery to get rid of the lumps on your chest if they make you feel bad” she extolled him. “Of course, though, we’d have to talk to the emperor first.”

Hunter begged for her to talk to his uncle with him, which she graciously agreed to. The two witches traveled to the throne room, kneeling in front of Belos. The old witch stood up from his throne, asking what Hettie was here for. Hettie then explained what Hunter had told her. Belos paused for a moment, contemplating the Healer and his nephew.

“Yes, I am aware of situations such as these. I have no issues if Hunter needs these elixirs. As for any surgeries, I would prefer it if he would hold off until he is of age. His particular constitution is…fragile. I believe there are alternatives?” Belos expounded.

Hettie nodded, explaining that she had items of clothing that would flatten the lumps on Hunter’s chest, providing him with comfort. Belos approved, dismissing Hettie and Hunter after signing a form of consent for Hunter’s treatment. A rhythm later, Hunter took his first dose of elixir and received his binder which, as he’d been informed of, was only to be worn for a maximum of eight hours a day, with two days of rest where it was not worn.

With his new elixirs and binder, Hunter felt much happier and a lot more comfortable, able to concentrate better and his performance, as well as his confidence, skyrocketed.

Chapter Text

Even when they didn’t have meetings, the Coven Heads would still meet up and talk to each other. Not every Head met with everyone outside meetings, as there were distinct lines drawn between them. Terra, Adrian, and Vitimir were in cahoots with only each other, Mason, Hettie, Osran, and Scooter got along with each other, leaving Darius and Eberwolf as the two oddballs that got along with each other and with the other four. The lines drawn were based solely on how loyal they were to the Coven system in general but, in reality, it was really about their loyalty to Belos.

While Terra, Adrian, and Vitimir were fiercely loyal, cutthroat to a fault, and would do anything for their esteemed leader, the other six were less so. Hettie and Mason were, out of the six, the more loyal ones, but even they had their lines that they would not cross. Meanwhile, Darius, Eberwolf, Scooter and Osran were, according to themselves, the most ‘sane.’ They worked for the Emperor’s Coven, but that didn’t mean they had to agree with every decision. This manifested as discussions in private areas, criticizing many aspects of the Coven.

The Abomination, Beast, Bard, and Oracle coven Heads were lounging in a room with lots of large poufs and a round table. Each Head had their own drink of choice in front of them, one of them drinking tea, one with apple blood, one with red wine, and another with a mystery liquid that no one was really sure what it really was.

“So are we agreeing that the newest budget cut was complete bullshit?” Darius proposed.

“Yes,” said Scooter, “it absolutely is. I understand the Bard Coven is never taken seriously, but the fact that we got the least amount of funding for the next fiscal year is truly shocking. I mean, how much money does the Construction Coven really need? They have resources everywhere! Do you know how many snails instruments cost?” Scooter ranted.

Eberwolf squeaked and huffed, and Darius nodded. “Eber’s right. The fact that the EC gets the most funding makes sense, but at the same time, I find it very telling that certain Covens get more snails than others.” he said.

“Well, couldn’t we appeal? We might be able to squeeze out a few more snails.” Osran proposed.

Darius shook his head. “No, questioning the Emperor’s decisions never leads to anything good happening. I want to personally attack the bastard and squeeze the life from his slimy neck, but it would result in me getting petrified. I can’t risk some asshole like Alador Blight leading the Abomination Coven.”

Scooter looked shocked. “While I appreciate the anger, I don’t think it’s wise for you to voice those thoughts. You’re veering into traitorous territory, Darius” he said.

Darius’ face turned sour. “You think I give a shit? I’m allowed to be pissed off at the leadership and our government. Why do we allow ourselves to be governed by an insane old man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who disagrees with him? Not to mention, he hurts his nephew. He’s a delusional bastard and I personally can’t wait for the day when his heart gives out from old age. Because on that day, I will be there and I will stomp his goopy ass into the ground, mark my words.”

Eberwolf barked in agreement and, despite his former hesitancy, Scooter nodded his head.

“He’s definitely older, but he can’t be that old,” Osran responded, “He’s still pretty mobile for a man of…whatever age he is.”

Darius scoffed. “He’s been emperor for 45 years. He’s got to be at least in his seventies, if not older. I know some witches, depending on their power, can live longer than natural lives. I could definitely see him being one of those. Though, that kind of lifespan comes with consequences. I personally have heard rumors of a curse, and I’ve even seen a green-colored slimy substance clinging to his mask at some points. If he really is cursed, it could be that he exchanged his health for more years of life. If that’s the case, we won’t be rid of him for a long time.” He took a long sip from his wine glass.

Scooter leaned forward. “Let’s not jump to conclusions, Darius. The only one who knows what Belos looks like under the mask is his nephew, so we can’t really know what Belos actually is like. I believe you, but you need to be careful. I’ve seen too many witches petrified for saying similar things” he advised.

Darius folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t like having to stay silent while the Isles dove further into Belos’ stronghold, but for the sake of others, especially the boy, he’d have to bite his tongue and remain calm on the outside. But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t fume internally and imagine many gruesome ways that the emperor could finally die.

Chapter Text

For years, Hunter had trained hours upon hours, spent much of his time in lessons, and had endured countless trials in order to prove himself worthy of one of the highest positions in the Emperor’s Coven. He’d fought and scraped to attain his status as the Golden Guard, the right-hand man to the Emperor. It meant more to him than just the power. In fact, the status of the position meant very little to him. For Hunter, being initiated as the Golden Guard would mean proving to everyone that he deserved the position, that he wasn’t just some kid that Belos took in and favored so much that he gave him power. It would mean that he would finally prove to his uncle that he was worth something, that he could be trusted, and that Belos could rely on him.

He’d received the news a while ago, but as he sat in his room with a parcel containing his uniform on his lap, it really began to sink in. He carefully undid the strings holding the wrappings, folding back the paper to reveal a pure white cloak, neatly folded. Unfolding the cloak, he revealed the yellow tunic, black pants, and most importantly, the golden pauldron and the most recognizable part of the uniform, the mask. Hunter’s eyes widened as he raised it up, seeing his reflection in the metal. It had been tailor made for his face by the same smith who had made Belos’ mask and gauntlets.

Hunter took the parcel into his bathroom and put the tunic over his thin shirt. He changed into the pants, and he fastened the cloak around his neck. Placing the pauldron on his left shoulder, he then took up the mask and placed it over his face. The final touch was putting the hood over his hair, hiding his silly-looking cowlick. Approaching the mirror, Hunter gasped as he saw his reflection. He knew it was himself, but seeing his body move in the mirror while dressed in armor that felt alien to wear was making his mind stall.

From outside his bathroom, he heard a familiar set of knocks on the door of his bedroom. When Hunter looked up, he saw his uncle’s masked figure staring at him. He couldn’t see Belos’expression, but he got a sense that the emperor was smiling. Hunter stood, opening his arms and showing off his new uniform.

“It fits well, doesn’t it? Now you truly look every inch the Golden Guard, nephew” Belos praised. Hunter smiled under his mask, feeling his cheeks go red. His uncle was proud of him, even if he didn’t explicitly say it. “I’ve come to inform you that the ceremony will be in two days. It will be a full celebration and many prominent figures of the Isles will be invited. You will be practicing for the next day or so in preparation. Come now, Hunter” Belos said, extending his hand towards the boy.

Hunter followed him to the castle’s ballroom, a place that was rarely used and only ever for special occasions. The whole room was coated with white marble and had accents of gold thrown in elegantly. At the head of the room was a platform stage, and a long carpet had been laid out on the floor leading to it. Scouts were setting up tables at one end of the room, leaving ample space for witches to mingle, sitting or standing. Belos instructed Hunter to remain at the entrance to the ballroom while he walked to the stage and ascended the steps, unsheathing his staff as he did so.

Hunter, through hours of practice, learned that he was to wait for a signal, then he would walk down the carpet, kneeling at the foot of the stairs. Belos would then perform the ceremony, confirming Hunter to his position, and Hunter would join him on stage while witches and demons were allowed to come give their congratulations and were able to interact with the emperor personally, something that had not occurred since his coronation.

When the day of his initiation finally arrived, Hunter awoke with his stomach in knots. Normally, he would head down to the cafeteria to grab breakfast, but he didn’t think his stomach would be able to handle any food. Instead, he carefully got dressed in his Golden Guard uniform, ensuring everything was properly polished and his cloak was without wrinkles. He walked down to the ballroom, practicing his ceremony, hearing the cues in his head.

After an entire day of worry, the night swooped in on inky wings. The castle, for once, bustled with activity as people from across the Isles arrived, decked out in their finery. Hunter himself was preparing his uniform, ensuring it was perfectly draped on his body. He then waited for a while before the door opened, revealing Belos in his full regalia, his mask perfectly polished so that Hunter couldn’t see a trace of a smudge on it. The two witches went around to a secret passageway where they would be able to enter the room without having to be bombarded with guests who had drunk too much apple blood already. Belos separated himself, heading for a door that would put him out on stage, while Hunter waited behind another that would allow him to walk onto the carpet when it was time.

From his vantage point, Hunter could see the ballroom filled with witches and demons. He also saw each of the Coven Heads at tables near the stage. The sconces on the walls dimmed with a wave from the scouts lining the edges of the room, and a few scouts positioned above in the mezzanine cast a light spell, illuminating the stage. As the stage brightened, Belos walked out, each step graceful so that it looked as if he was gliding out onto the stage. Standing center stage, he spread his arms, the cloak parting with him.

Standing to his full height, Belos raised his voice to be heard across the room. “Children of the Isles, we are gathered here today to celebrate the ceremony where the next Golden Guard will be initiated. It has been a long and strenuous process to prepare him for this day, but it has all been worth it. I have seen him grow and thrive, gaining confidence and strength throughout the years. He will be an invaluable asset for the Day of Unity. I am very pleased to introduce you to your next Golden Guard, Hunter!”

Hunter walked carefully down the carpet, consciously aware of everyone’s stares. Now would be a bad time to trip and fall, he thought, nearly laughing to himself. Reaching the steps, he received his staff and kneeled in front of Belos, head bowed. He heard the click of Belos’ staff unfurling itself.

“Do you accept the role of the Golden Guard, promising to enact the will of the Titan, guarding the Boiling Isles against the curse of wild magic, and restoring order for witches and demonkind through the Coven System?” Belos recited.

“I do,” Hunter responded.

“Then with the blessing of the Titan,” Belos put his staff on Hunter’s right shoulder, “I pronounce you,” he moved it to his left, “The Golden Guard!” he put the staff on his head, removing it afterwards, Hunter standing to his full height. The guests cheered behind him and Hunter took his place on stage next to his uncle, the pride he felt at his success being the only thing getting him through the next few hours of robotically saying “thank you” and “I am here to serve you” over and over again to each new guest.

Chapter Text

Hunter was assigned his first mission as Golden Guard a rhythm afterwards. He had thought it would be a throwaway mission but, to his surprise, he was being sent to the Knee to find an important item. He wasn’t given specific details, only that he’d be with a group of scouts to find it. As he prepared himself to leave, he felt a certain uneasiness. The last time he’d been to the Knee, things had not gone well. He grabbed his Coven-issue knapsack and his staff and headed to the castle lobby. He joined several other scouts in waiting before the lead captain appeared, a scroll in her hands.

“Attention scouts! We have been summoned to embark on a mission to the Knee to search for a rare artifact: the Oracle Sphere. Some say this ancient relic does not exist. Forget these people. We will be taking an airship and hiking to ancient ruins where it is rumored to be held. Follow” she said, gesturing for the scouts to walk behind her.

Hunter’s hands were shaking as he boarded the airship, flashing back to the trials. Thankfully for him and everyone else, the weather was much better this time around, and the ride only took an hour and 45 minutes. Hunter was still thankful to get off the ship, as he still didn’t have his airlegs. The snow crunched under his boots as he walked behind the rest of the scouts and the captain. They located a trail that would lead them to the ruins, hastily marked by a rotting sign. The trail itself looked as if it hadn’t been touched in a while. For an hour they trudged through the snow before they got to an overlook with a ring of stones embedded into the ground. In the center of the ring, there was a round stone sunk into the snow.

Out of the blue, one of the scouts accidentally stepped on the middle stone, causing the ground to shake and the two halves of the circle to split apart. As a result, the scouts standing within the circle fell into the hole, Hunter included. Thinking quickly, Hunter cast a hover spell over himself and the group, allowing their momentum to slow. Once he released it, they all collapsed to the ground, Hunter hearing groans from those who had landed at awkward angles.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “Where are we now?” he asked. No one answered him as they got up and dusted off their uniforms. Due to his status as the Golden Guard, Hunter had to recover the quickest so he could lead the rest of the scouts. Unfortunately for him, a couple of the scouts were yelling at the one scout who had stepped on the stone. Hunter sighed and turned around.

“We don’t have time for fighting or whatever! We have to get moving and find this thing!” he practically yelled. He glanced around his surroundings and found a tunnel, surrounded by thorny vines. He pointed his staff at the tunnel, incinerating the vines and illuminating the inky blackness. He walked forward into the tunnel, the scouts following him without orders. The tunnel was being illuminated by the glow from his staff, but he and the scouts could barely see anything in front of them.

Eventually, the tunnel exited out into a spacious room, a hole in the ceiling allowing filtered light to shine upon a spot on the floor. Hunter noticed an outcrop of stone, detailed with ancient runes. Unfortunately for him, though the pedestal was clearly made to hold the sphere, there was no sphere to be seen. Hunter felt his stomach drop. The Coven was relying on him to succeed and bring the sphere back. He turned to the scouts who had, by now, realized the same thing he had also realized.

“Let’s go meet back with the others” Hunter ordered. The disgruntled scouts followed him back and Hunter levitated each one out of the hole. Once everyone was back up above, Hunter flash dashed up to the surface. He led them back to the airship, looking around for the scouts that had been separated. He didn’t see any of them, and there were no signs of footprints anywhere.

After hours of waiting, Hunter called for the scouts to board the airship, calling upon one scout to pilot it, since he didn’t have his license yet. Returning to the castle, Hunter made the dreaded decision to report to the emperor, knowing it would lead to nothing good, but that it was more important to own up to his mistakes, rather than Belos finding it out from a scout.

Knocking on the door, Hunter was let into the room. He kneeled at the steps of the throne, not even looking up. He didn’t need to see the disappointment in his uncle’s eyes as he told him that he failed the mission.

“So you return with nothing. Is this the thanks I get for taking you in?” Belos scolded.

How did he already know? Hunter thought.

“I send you on one mission and you can’t even be successful. I suppose this means I have to find a replacement now.” Belos mused.

Hunter felt a spark of panic. “No, please, I can do better next time!” he begged. Belos didn’t look convinced. “Please,” he repeated, “I will do better next time.”

“I give you one basic task, you manage to lose half of your group. I rely on you to properly lead, and you can’t even do one thing right. Why should I believe you?” Belos said, his voice raising slightly.

Hunter felt a fury in his soul. “I tried my hardest! How was I supposed to know that we’d get separated! I’ve never been on a mission before now and-”
He was cut off by a muddy hand knocking him across the room. Belos stood from his throne, grabbing Hunter roughly by the collar of his cloak and lifting him up off the ground with unnatural strength.

Belos’ eyes glowed a furious blue “I don’t have the resources to replace you right now, but believe me that if I did, you would be out in an instant. How dare you speak to me in that fashion? I have raised you, trained you, and given you the privilege of being Golden Guard, and this is what you do with it. Do you want others to call you a spoiled brat? This is how you do it.” He released Hunter from his grasp. “I expect you to succeed, or I won’t have a choice but to get rid of you, do I make myself clear?” Belos growled.

Hunter scrambled to his feet. “Yes, sir.”

He nearly ran to the door, shutting it behind him, immediately collapsing to the floor in tears.

Chapter Text

Hunter felt as if he was on thin ice for many years afterwards. Why did he keep messing up? He couldn’t do one thing right, could he? Many missions he got, he was successful, but for many, he was not. It was only until he was sixteen that things really began changing. Sure, he still failed missions and was scolded for it, but the frequency of punishments slowed. That didn’t mean that he didn’t still flinch when anyone made sudden moves around him. It didn’t mean that his head felt light and he was stripped of air when he made mistakes. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still fear his uncle’s disappointment. No, nothing really changed. He was under constant immense pressure, and the eyebags that used to be relatively mild were deep and pronounced.

You’re beginning to look more and more like Belos everyday, his mind told him. What next, he’d get a massive facial scar too? Oh wait, he’d already gotten one of those. Hunter loved his uncle and he wanted to do everything possible to serve the coven and enforce the will of the Titan. But countless nights with little sleep and having to be ever vigilant to danger was starting to take a toll on his teenage body. Soon enough, he theorized, his hair would also begin to gray and his skin would get wrinkly. At least his hair wouldn’t thin out; Belos’ hair was luscious and thick, something Hunter was always impressed by.

After a brief stint in which he was denied missions or given tasks that were normally handled by low level scouts, nicknamed ‘ratworm meat’, Hunter was finally given an envelope by one of the guards while he was studying in his room. He noticed the paper quality, the wax seal, and the elegant cursive that addressed him by name; this was a note from Belos that would tell him his next mission. Cracking the wax seal, Hunter unfolded the note.

Hunter,
There have been rumors of a human on the Isles. I instruct you to investigate these rumors and bring back any and all information that will be useful to the coven and to the Day of Unity.
Belos

Hunter was stalled for thought. A human, from his knowledge, had never found their way to the Boiling Isles and, if there ever had been a human before, it was never recorded. Still, rumors were just rumors and he had to get confirmation just to be sure. He grabbed his mask and staff and made his way outside the castle where he proceeded to mount his staff, flying towards Bonesborough, where the rumors had started to circulate. He landed in the middle of the town, observing all around him. He noticed a hastily constructed ramshackle stand filled with strange items. A banner above the stand read ‘Human Collectibles’ in large, garish letters.

Hunter made a beeline for the stand, recoiling when a bright light from a rectangular source opened within the stand. A tall witch with a mane of gray hair, yellow eyes, and a carnivorous fang emerged with a large sack on her back. Hunter dove behind another stand, hiding from the witch. He’d heard about this particular witch. Edalyn Clawthorne, more commonly known as Eda or the Owl Lady, was the younger sister of Lilith and, according to all of his sources, a wild witch. This one was the big catch, the witch that the Emperor’s Coven had been trying to capture. Hunter would have stepped out of the shadows and arrested her on the spot, but he’d been clearly told that it would be Lilith’s duty to do so. Hunter felt himself scoff. He’d do a better job than Lilith could ever do. However, it wasn’t worth angering the emperor over a clear disregard of orders.

Instead, he observed as the Owl Lady pulled out all sorts of strange objects that he’d never seen before. More interestingly, two figures quickly approached her stand, one was a small furry demon-looking creature with a skull for a face, and, more interesting, a tan-skinned teenage girl with short hair. Hunter immediately noticed the girl was different in that her ears, unlike witches, were not pointy but round. Hunter knew enough about humans to be able to immediately deduce that this was, in fact, the rumored human to be on the Isles.

“Hey King, Luz, come help me sort these human objects!” the Owl Lady called to the human and her dog.

The dog made a strange noise as he clambered onto the stand, eliciting a giggle from the human. As they started sorting through the garbage, the dog, King, held up a long wooden stick that was thick at one end and thinner at another.

“What’s this?” King squeaked, showing the item to the human, who Hunter learned was called Luz. It was a strange name, but then again, so was his.

“Oh, that’s a baseball bat. Or, as my mama calls it un bate de béisbol. You use it to hit a baseball when you’re playing a game” Luz said.

What in Titan’s name is a baseball? That thing looks like a weapon, Hunter thought.

“Ha! I could probably use that thing to bash in a few of the scouts’ heads. Or, even better, take it to Emperor Bonehead and knock him back to the Savage Ages!” the Owl Lady jested, half-serious in her intentions.

Hunter felt his blood boil at the jab to Belos, but he couldn’t intervene. He turned and walked away from the stand, mounting his staff, flying back to the castle. He’d hopefully heard enough to let his uncle decide what he’d do next. After all, dealing with the human who, from what he observed, didn’t seem like much of a threat. However, if she was in cahoots with the Owl Lady, she may very well be one soon.

Hunter approached Belos after he returned to the castle, kneeling at his feet.

“Emperor, I identified the rumors to be true. There is a human girl by the name of Luz in Bonesborough. From what I observed, she seems to be in contact with the Owl Lady and is currently aiding her with…wild magic?” Hunter described, his voice displaying a slight rise in intonation at the end of his report due to his lack of confidence on what exactly the human was doing with the wild witch and the dog.

His uncle asked him to repeat the name of the human again, to which Hunter again said her name. A strange look crossed Belos’ face, one which Hunter had never seen before.

“Uncle, are you ok? Do you need a palisman?” he asked.

“No. You are dismissed” Belos responded tersely.

After Hunter left, Belos collapsed onto his throne, shaking his head in disbelief. After all these years, Luzura had finally come to the Boiling Isles. It was only a matter of time before all the pieces were finally put in place and he could enact his plan for the Day of Unity. Philip Wittebane, for that was what he called himself in private, let a rare, genuine smile across his face. Let Luzura be with the Owl Lady, it made no difference to him, so long as she would eventually find her way back to him and they could save humanity from the evil of witches together.

Chapter Text

The events of the night of Edalyn Clawthorne’s petrification set a lot of things into motion for Hunter. Firstly, he had secured his position as one of the highest ranked coven officials due to the last minute treachery of Lilith in siding with her sister and the human. Secondly, because Lilith helped the Owl Lady to escape her fate of petrification, there was no chance of recapturing her. Thirdly, the human, despite Hunter’s previous observations, turned out to be a danger.

He had been waiting in the Conformatorium while the petrification was taking place so that he could guard the emperor for the return to the castle. He heard his uncle’s familiar footsteps on the stairs leading from the stage. As he rounded the corner and came into the light, Hunter audibly gasped. His uncle’s mask had been cracked, the right eyehole shattered. He ran over to Belos, pulling a palisman out of his cloak and handing it over to the man. Belos took it and cracked it open, inhaling the green fumes.

“What happened?” Hunter asked.

Belos muttered something under his breath that sounded like “the human.” Taking his staff in hand, Hunter helped his uncle out of the Conformatorium before teleporting them both back to the castle. He immediately landed them in Belos’ personal quarters so he could be in private.

“Uncle, seriously, what happened to you?” Hunter asked.

Belos removed his mask, his brows deeply furrowed. “The human tried attacking me. She caught me off guard with a blast of ice. Then, she tricked me by giving me the portal and promptly setting it on fire.”

Hunter was shocked. His uncle wasn’t tricked easily. That little snake, he thought, if I ever get my hands on her-

His thoughts were cut off by Belos walking around to his desk, rummaging in a few drawers. Hunter thought he was looking for more palismen and prepared himself to get another, but Belos found what he was looking for; a replacement mask. He always had multiple in case one was broken or got too worn out. Replacing the new mask on his face, Belos led Hunter to one of his labs; the portal door lab.

They’d been building a portal for a few rhythms now, so Hunter wasn’t entirely sure why Belos seemed angry about the human destroying the other. Though, if he had to guess, it was because she’d tricked him. Come to think of it, how did she even attack him with ice and destroy the portal with fire? Humans didn’t know magic, did they?

Hunter lurked in the doorway while Belos surveyed the scouts working on the portal. To his disgust, Hunter saw Kikimora enter the lab, telling Belos exactly what he already knew. Hunter rolled his eyes. Belos then turned to him, saying that they’d keep an eye on the inhabitants of the Owl House. Hunter nodded; he understood that he was being tasked with monitoring the Owl Lady, Lilith, and the human.

He flew on his staff over to the Owl House, landing at the same time as the Owl Lady, still in her cursed form with Lilith and the human on her back. He observed as the sisters cried and touched foreheads, Lilith casting a spell over them. They floated in the air, the Owl Lady returning to her normal form. However, the two of them now had differently colored eyes and a gray streak in their hair. They had split the curse between themselves. He watched as they attempted to make spell circles, the circles crumbling and falling apart. He mounted his staff again and flew back to the castle. Uncle would be pleased to hear that both Clawthornes were without magic.

Chapter Text

The mission to hunt the selkidomus had been less of a success for Hunter. He’d quickly found out that not only were the human and the Owl Lady’s pet also on board the ship, but that they were aiming to capture the selkidomus as well. He attempted to capture the dog, holding him hostage so that he could use the human and the Owl Lady to his advantage. He’d make them do his dirty work for him.

He had no idea why Uncle wanted the beast so badly. After all, it was up for money to anyone who could catch it. Thing is, from what he knew of selkidomuses, they were a rarity. However, reports said that one particular selkidomus had been terrorizing the boiling sea, capsizing ships. Hunter supposed that the ships that had been capsized were carrying important cargo, and that enough were capsized where it was now an issue of major concern to the Empire.

Using his staff’s artificial magic, Hunter created a fist shield that he used to propel himself out of the water with a cage containing the dog in the other hand. He saw the shocked expressions of the human and the Owl Lady as he stuck the landing, his mask and armor steaming from the heat.

“Hello, criminals. What’s about to happen should be relatively painless, if you just do what I say” he announced.

The Owl Lady tried arguing with him so he used the dog as a threat to ensure they would follow his orders. Crafting a sword with his magic, he sent the pair into the cave of the selkidomus. For many minutes, he was left alone, which gave him time to think. However after more minutes of waiting, he got bored. He checked in on the dog in his cage who, apparently, had been trying to sleep. He rose up and circled around with a small weh, settling back down after Hunter replaced the cloth covering. He repeated this many times, chuckling at the demon. He was weirdly endearing, even if he was a criminal.

A sudden noise from the direction of the cave snapped him out of his little game. From what he could see, the shadows beaming onto the wall of the cave showed the human fighting the beast. She stabbed with the sword and the selkidomus went limp. Dragging it slowly, the human pulled the beast out towards him. As she did, the smell hit his nose, making him want to retch. It smelled like low tide, dried out seaweed, and dead fish.

“Oh, that thing smells awful. Why are you touching it with your hands? Gross” he said.

The human demanded he return the dog, King, which he happily obliged to since he’d gotten what he wanted. He tossed the cage and turned away from the human, walking a small distance before glancing back at her.

“Thank you for your service. You can find your own way home” he said, suddenly remembering who his mission was for. “And try to stay out of trouble,” he advised, “The Emperor is not a merciful man.” He mounted his staff and with a blast of magic, he rocketed into the air with a farewell.

“BYEEEEEE!” he yelled, leaving the three miscreants to fend for themselves. Upon his return, he reported directly to Belos.

“Sir, I had a confrontation with the Owl Lady, the human, and the dog, but I managed to have them slay the selkidomus. It will no longer terrorize the coast” he reported.

“Very good,” Belos praised. “Where is the body?” he asked.

Hunter stalled. “I- it’s still at the cave where it fell” he stammered.

Belos’ eyes narrowed under his mask “You didn’t bring the corpse back as I ordered?” he scolded.

Hunter wanted to argue that Belos never said to bring the thing back, only to slay it, but he was wise enough to know not to provoke his uncle, lest the curse rear its goopy head.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I failed you” he whispered.

“Emperor, and yes, you did. Seems I’ll have to think of a punishment for you, then. Leave, I will fetch you once I have decided your punishment” Belos said coldly.

“Yes, Emperor Belos. Sir” he hastily added, trying to appease Belos as much as possible. He stood and left the throne room, heading back to his bedroom where he’d await his fate.

Meanwhile, Belos made a mental note of how many more ingredients he’d need to make the grimwalker that would accompany him to the human realm. His last and final grimwalker would look identical to Caleb, with round ears and brown eyes. It was a technique he’d finally perfected after 400 years, and he wasn’t about to let it go to waste.

Chapter Text

Hunter was beginning to really despise the human. Somehow, despite his efforts, she always seemed to find a way to sabotage his missions. He was certain that, if not for her interference, he would have remembered to bring the selkidomus back to the castle. He wasn’t given any real missions, just busy work that scouts could have done. He had had to approach Alador and Odalia Blight, informing them that their Abomatons were being bought out by the Emperor due to their use for protection, as there was a scout shortage, and due to their status as a potential private army, something that was strictly forbidden.

His first actual mission occurred when his uncle realized he was running low on palismen. He’d had a bout of his curse, fully transforming into the mud-beast and repeatedly punching the wall. Hunter had aided him, giving his uncle the palisman he needed. Unfortunately, he also had to inform Belos that it was the last from their reserves. Belos had ordered him to find more, and Hunter had obliged.

He boarded an airship and set off for Hexside, as he’d heard that the students would be receiving their palismen. It was an easy catch, and it wasn’t as if the Bat Queen didn’t have more to supply. He shuddered as he remembered how some had tried getting palismen from the giant bat demon. Needless to say, they were no longer scouts.

Attaching the palisman hut to his airship, Hunter lifted it into the air. With a job well done and the palismen secure, he began his flight back to the castle, whistling a catchy tune as he did. All of a sudden, he heard a noise behind him and felt something hit his back. He looked back, seeing the human for a split second before he was unceremoniously rocketed off of the ship. Activating his staff, he slowed his momentum and then flash dashed back to the ship, hovering over the human, who was attempting to pilot the thing.

“Okay, how do I land this thing?” the human asked.

“You just pull that cord above your head” Hunter supplied.

The human looked up in shock and Hunter took the opportunity to tie her up with magic ropes. He tried threatening her, but she didn’t seem convinced. She attempted to question him and, without warning, sent a blast of ice at him, knocking his staff off the ship. His cheeks went red, turning to the human and threatening her again. But before he could get his threat out, there was a violent rocking of the airship, a growl, and a hissing noise as the airship lost all of its buoyancy and plunged to the ground.

He only awoke from his stupor when a sharp pain from the human’s hand slapping him pulled him out of unconsciousness. She silenced his protest with a hand over his mouth so, doing the only natural thing he could think to do, he licked it. The human recoiled and they began fighting, but they both stopped when they noticed a hand dragon sniffing around. He reluctantly abandoned his cloak, hoping it would keep the beast satiated

He led the human into the middle of Latissa, his staff in her hand and a palisman on her shoulder. She tried talking to him, but he ignored her, glaring at her. He approached the precinct, displaying his sigil to the scouts and ordering contact with the castle. To his dismay, the scouts didn’t take him seriously, thinking he was just some kid with a temporary tattoo. He then remembered he didn’t have his mask on. He tried to convince them by summoning his staff, but the human hid it behind her back. His face burning red, he bolted after the human, shoving people out of the way. He saw as she used another ice blast to jump on the roof of a building. Teasing him, she found out his secret. Without any magic or magical aid, Hunter had to resort to parkour to get to the human, who promptly sent a blast of magic at him, using his staff. He realized she was scared of him, and he took it as an advantage.

He was interrupted by the hand dragon landing at the precinct. He then noticed it was mounted by none other than Kikimora. He mused to himself and, to his chagrin, the human tried reasoning with him that they should work together. He glared at her while she carelessly spun his staff around, nearly dropping it in the process.

He proposed a truce, to which the human duped him, causing his face to go even more red. He reluctantly followed after her, grumbling to himself. Luz instructed him to obtain sleeping nettles. He wasn’t sure why, but he complied. Roaming through Latissa, he found a pot of them on someone’s windowsill. He felt bad for swiping them, sure, but he had to take what he needed. Clambering back on the building’s roof, he passed the nettles over to the human. He then noticed that she had drawn strange symbols on the wall.

Asking her about them, he was informed that they would cause a sleeping smoke so that they could get Kikimora’s steed to land without injuring the palismen. She then tried asking him about his origins, to which he was very vague about, not wanting to reveal too much. The cardinal palisman tried approaching him, making chirping noises as it did. He shied away, telling the human to get it away from him. She merely chuckled at him, telling him that the little rascal wasn’t dangerous. The hand dragon then recovered from its stupor, taking flight. The human, to his surprise, presented him with his staff. Mounting it with the human behind him, he and Luz activated the glyphs, causing the hand dragon to slowly fall to the ground. He landed and the human immediately ran over to the palismen.

Hunter ignited his staff with an aura of magic, to which the human berated him about bringing them back to Belos. Appealing to his sympathy, he let her know his name. As he did, a blast of magic hit him in the forehead and he leapt into action, dashing around Kikimora who was firing magic blasts willy-nilly. He managed to knock the little demon out and stared at the human while she flew away on the hand dragon, his catch in its tail.

With a bit of fear and knowing that he would be in trouble, Hunter returned to the castle, reporting to Belos. The disappointment in his uncle’s voice was tangible as he was scolded over returning with nothing. He tried appeasing Belos, informing the witch that he knew of a way to make more palismen. As he was attempting to explain, a tendril of the curse reached out and narrowly missed his face, silencing him immediately. He apologized immediately, to which Belos reminded him of the pain that his curse caused. He also convinced Hunter that he knew he could do better.

Exiting the throne room, he was approached by Kikimora who he gladly took the opportunity to poke fun at. The small red demon was disheveled, burn marks and dirt all over her clothes and face. He swaggered away, leaving her to seethe.

As he returned to his room, he flopped down on his bed. He’d messed up and Uncle was mad. He wanted to help, but if Belos didn’t tell him anything,how was he to help? A twitter from his window snapped him out of his thinking. He bolted up, his heart racing. He saw the little red cardinal sitting on his windowsill. He grabbed it, squeezing it tightly. It chirped in pain, and he let it go.

“You shouldn’t be here. It would be bad if Belos saw you” he said while petting its head. To his amazement, it transformed into a staff. Hunter cradled it and walked over to the window, staring out at the sunset, lost in thought over what had happened and what this meant for him.

Chapter Text

Hunter was startled awake by the little cardinal palisman tugging on his cowlick. Ever since the palisman had annoyingly started following him around, it had developed several habits, mostly involving his hair. It would nest down in his hair at night, despite his persistent attempts to shoo it away, and it would pull on the strand of hair that refused to slick back. He really had no use for an alarm clock anymore, as the bird would wake him at 6 every morning.

Today, however, it was slightly more persistent, tugging much harder than normal. Hunter sluggishly rose from his comfortable bed and got dressed. He grabbed the palisman and shoved it in a special pocket in his cloak, specially sewn for the cardinal. He was only keeping it around to study it, simply to see how the palisman functioned so that maybe he could figure out a less destructive fashion that his uncle’s curse could be controlled with.

Hunter didn’t like bugging Belos too much without a proper invitation, but an issue had been nagging in his mind that he had to get closure about. Nevertheless, Hunter approached the portal lab carefully, quietly shutting the door behind him. He hid behind a tank and watched his uncle fiddle with the door. Unprompted, the palisman darted out of his cloak and tried settling on his shoulder. While Hunter shooed the bird, it chirped and Hunter grabbed it, stuffing its wooden form back into his cloak.

“Would you like to see how it works, Hunter?” Belos asked.

Hunter felt his heart skip a beat. How had he known he was there?

“I didn’t mean to hide, Emperor Belos,” Hunter said, stepping out from the shadows as Belos turned to face him.
“We found every piece of the door. But without the power of the real key, it refuses to open” Belos said with a slight frown.

Hunter, on a whim, decided to propose a question in order to get his uncle talking and in a good mood. He could tell from Belos’ voice and mannerisms that he was calm and probably would not object to questions.

“Is it true that rain doesn’t boil in the human realm?” Hunter asked.

“It is,” Belos responded, “I've been there before, did I ever tell you that?” he asked.

Hunter felt as if he remembered Belos mentioning something about the human realm before, but to indulge the man, he shook his head.

A calm look crossed Belos’ features. “The trees there are green, the nights are quiet, I look forward to seeing it again. Were you spying on me just to hear these boring stories?” he asked.

Hunter threw his line, hoping his uncle would take the bait. “The operation at the Knee. Why did you switch me out with Kikimora?” Hunter asked. The castle had been planning on an expedition to the Knee to collect Titan’s blood, a substance that, from what Belos had told him, would be able to make the portal work properly. Unfortunately, he’d been replaced by Kikimora for the job.

“Everyone has a use, Hunter,” Belos said, placing a hand on his shoulder and leading him down the steps. “Kikimora has her intricate little plans. The scouts carry out orders. And you, well, the Titan has big plans for you, and it would be such a hassle to find a replacement. So, right now, you can be useful by staying safe in the castle” he explained.

Hunter felt his pride shatter. Belos didn’t think he was capable of performing tasks. On the one hand, he was happy the man hadn’t told him this in a rude way, but on the other hand, it would have been better, had he been more direct. Belos steered him towards the door and Hunter protested.

“If this is punishment for failing my last mission, I swear I can do better” he begged.

Belos simply gave him a thin-lipped smile, wished him goodnight, and shut the door in his face. Hunter felt hurt, but he made up his mind. He was going to get that blood and prove himself useful.

He changed into a regular scout’s uniform and grabbed his staff. He flew over to the Knee and scouted around until he found Kikimora and her gang of scouts. He observed the demon from behind a tree. Kikimora was scolding a group of scouts while simultaneously worrying about disappointing Belos. Hunter could have related to her, if she wasn’t a major pain in his ass. The palisman emerged, fluttering overhead.

“Why do you keep following me?” he asked. It merely chirped at him. “I don’t speak palisman,” he responded. “Here’s the plan. I slip in with this disguise. I find the Titan blood before Kiki. I give it to Belos. Boom! I’m useful again.” he narrated to the bird.

A blast of pink magic engulfed the tree he stood behind, causing him to duck as the whole tree top keeled over. Hunter ran out from behind the tree, telling himself and the palisman that they’d find another way into the mines.

He stopped when he noticed a few familiar figures walking below him. The Owl Lady and her dog were accompanied by-

“Is that the youngest Blight?” he said. Theorizing, he explained to the bird. “Alright, new plan. They can lead us to-” The bird then chose that moment to tug on his cloak, causing him to fall directly into the path of the three nuisances.

“A coven scout” the Blight girl said, igniting magical fire in her hand.

Hunter raised his hands in surrender, but the Owl Lady didn’t believe him. She commented on his voice, saying that it was annoying. Why did everyone say that? Kiki hated him, but Lilith said it too. Then again, she probably hated him now as well.

He tried running away but the girl casted Abomination goop at him, tying his arms behind his back and causing him to keel over in the snow. The three witches approached him, and the Blight girl finally recognized him. She then commented that he was scrawny, to which the dog laughed and Hunter glared at them.

The three miscreants with Hunter in tow made their way to the abandoned mine, the girl keeping an annoyingly close watch on him, staff raised. She informed him that she didn’t trust him, to which he rolled his eyes. The Owl Lady, Eda, he supposed, commented on the mine’s atmosphere. Hunter took the opportunity to educate her, as she was well known to have not finished school. Eda didn’t listen, instead trying to activate a piece of machinery. Hunter warned them, but the machine blasted anyway, its beams ricocheting off the walls. He scolded them, only to have Eda laugh at him.

The dog then did something Hunter didn’t expect. He screamed, and a sonic wave unlike anything he’d seen before traveled down the tunnel. It had no effect, and the dog shrugged. Hunter mused to himself that they’d get them caught by Kikimora, to which the Blight girl rudely told him that they weren’t a team.

The group marched on and Hunter was being ridiculed further by the Owl Lady and, apparently, by the human. He finally lost his temper, swearing revenge upon Luz. The girl told him to watch his mouth. He countered by telling the Owl Lady that she was delusional for thinking she could turn into a harpy, to which Eda turned and hissed at him. The dog then jumped on him and started pulling his hair after he’d insulted it.

The Blight girl shushed them and pointed to some movement over a wall. Kikimora and the scouts were in their general vicinity, exploring the entrance to a tunnel. They realized it was the entrance to Eclipse Lake. Hunter tried formulating a plan, but the Owl Lady jumped into action recklessly. He sat down, musing that getting the blood with Amity would be easy once the Owl Lady and her dog were caught. She yet again protested, saying that they weren’t a team. Hunter was trying to explain something to Amity, but he kept being interrupted by her game device beeping.

Hunter tried taking a peek, but Amity hid it, glaring at him. She still asked him what the code on the screen meant, as long as he stood further away. Inspecting the message, he concluded that it likely meant that the human was expecting results or else they’d be done dating. He tried appealing to Amity, telling her that he understood where she was coming from with a parental figure that they both worked hard to not disappoint. He’d seen how Odalia Blight treated her children and was reminded of his uncle.

He and Amity were pulled out of their conversation by the Owl Lady, whom they followed, making a break for the tunnel.

Chapter Text

Hunter was stuck with the Owl Lady, the Blight girl, and the dog. If he could escape, he would have long ago. As it was, his arms were tied behind his back with Abomination goo. As if he wasn’t already annoyed, the bird kept trying to sit on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, observing his surroundings. They had approached a chamber with many blue orbs settled into the ground. The rest of his group excitedly ran ahead, the Owl Lady trying to obtain the orbs. Hunter realized what the orbs were and, without hesitation, he warned them not to touch anything. As per usual, Eda didn’t listen to his instructions and stuck the end of her staff into one of the orbs.

The ground began to shake, and a huge rift opened in the ground. The Owl Lady and the dog fell down, but Amity did not. She tried mounting her staff, but Hunter stopped her, begging her to take him with her. He didn’t want to be left alone for Kikimora to find him. Not to mention-

As Amity relinquished the goo from his arms, he crouched down and kicked her feet out from under her. He ran to get in a minecart, obnoxiously yelling “BYEEEEEEEEEE!” The minecart jerked hastily down the track, wobbling left and right. Eventually, the cart bottomed out and reached the end of the track. He hopped out and immediately felt his heart sink. An old, rotting sign informed him he was at Eclipse Lake; however, there was no Titan’s blood to be seen. The lake itself was completely dried up, only soft sand left at the bottom.

Hunter jumped into the lake basin, walking towards the center. He fell onto his hands and knees in defeat. He had failed, and there was no way that he’d be let back into the castle when Belos found out about it. He might as well sign his resignation letter. Or, more accurately, write his epitaph. Uncle would kill him. To save time, he started digging his own grave.

Eventually Hunter’s ears twitched as he heard a noise behind him. Turning his head slightly, he saw a bit of purple out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t worry. I won’t pick a fight. There’s no Titan’s blood” he said to Amity.

“Then why are you digging?” Amity asked.

Hunter felt himself go a little deranged. “Oh it’s simple, really. Belos needs Titan blood to make a new portal key. Can’t get to the human realm without it!” He propped himself up on his knees. “Since I failed my last mission, I thought, ‘Hey, a chance to make up for it!’ But I can’t go back empty handed!” He laughed hysterically. “Not again. Long story short, this is my grave. Want me to make you one too?”

The dog acted pathetically, to which Hunter flippantly waved his hand. As the Blight girl looked back at her message from the human, the bird tried landing on him. He waved it off, laying down in the hole and covering himself with dirt.

The Blight girl approached him and kneeled beside him. “You know, you were right. We do have a lot in common. I grew up thinking everything was an opportunity to justify existing, but there are people out there who won't make you feel worthless. You just have to let yourself meet them,” she said.

That’s when Hunter noticed the key dangling on a chain around her neck. He slowly lifted his head, staring intently at it. Amity noticed, gasping, as Hunter lunged at her. She tried reasoning, but Hunter was beyond listening. He needed that key. The dog screamed at him, the sonic wave blocked by the bird suddenly transforming into a staff. Hunter smiled as he tried flash dashing several times, the Blight girl’s Abomination goo attempting to ensnare him. He managed to teleport into the air, sending energy blasts that ricochet off the walls. He dashed around her, her Abomination gauntlet catching him on the chin after the fourth try. Hunter went under the sand and punched upwards with a magic fist. He burst out from the ground, teleporting right next to Amity and using his staff to pull the chain around her neck. She caught the key, putting a spike of purple goo towards his neck.

They both panted heavily as Hunter tried bargaining with her, saying that he knew where the human was. Giving in to his threat, Amity relinquished the key into his open palm. He mounted the staff and turned to Amity, thanking her for the key. He blasted off into the night sky.

A while later, he landed in the soft snow on the Knee, walking back towards the castle. He needed to have some time to think before he returned. He pulled out the key, holding it up to the sky. It had been cracked, slowly dripping blue-colored blood. The bird landed on his hand.

“You stuck with me the whole time, huh, bird?” he commented on it.

Flapjack, it chirped.

Hunter was shocked. “I think I understood that! I-Is that your name? Can you say it again?” he asked.

The bird repeated himself and Hunter asked him to say other things as he continued to walk.

Later, when he returned to the castle, he was approached by Kikimora, who told him that Belos knew about where he’d been. Panicking, Hunter ran to the portal lab, trying to appease Belos. His uncle’s face was stern, with a frown on his face. He approached the steps, holding out the key to Belos.

“I-I know you didn’t want me going to Eclipse Lake. But if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have found this!” he begged.

Belos snatched the key from him, turning away so he couldn’t see.

“Some…of the Titan blood did spill, but- but, if you let me explain then-” Hunter was cut off by Belos turning part way to face him, his eyes glowing a threatening blue as he sternly told Hunter to leave. He immediately obeyed, not wanting to provoke Belos any further.

Chapter Text

Hunter was getting better at sewing daily. He’d had to learn to fix his own clothes and how to mend his wounds from an early age. He was first taught sewing by his uncle, but the man had left him to flounder with threading the needle. After that, it was a mess of trial and error before he was able to sew somewhat passably. Sewing was not only a necessity but also a coping mechanism. Something about the activity was Hunter’s catharsis; it helped him calm down.

Currently, he was stitching a sigil onto the back of his cloak. Having done research into the history of the Golden Guards prior, he saw a symbol that each used to wear, but had fallen out of tradition somewhere down the line. For some odd reason, many of the Golden Guards only kept their positions for several years before falling prey to accidents or wild magic. It certainly was foreboding for Hunter who, as of the moment, had been Golden Guard for several years. He attempted to block the worrying thought out of his mind as he continued sewing. He pulled the knot tight and cut the thread, holding the cloak up to inspect it. Flapjack landed on his shoulder, tweeting happily.

“Yeah, it does look good as new!” he exclaimed. A few stitches came loose and he realized that it looked like shit. “...And I have no idea what I’m doing,” he said with a grimace. Suddenly, he heard a knock on his bedroom door. Standing up from his bed, Flapjack hid himself under Hunter’s pillow. Hunter was greeted by two guards, one of which handed him a letter, shutting the door once more.

Hunter inspected the letter, noticing the paper quality and the wax seal, immediately deducing who it was from. He cracked the seal and unfolded the letter.

Hunter,
My duties are keeping me busy. I entrust you to lead the Coven Heads today. Consider this a test.
Belos

Hunter smirked to himself, grabbing Flapjack and putting the bird in his special pocket sewn on the inside of Hunter’s cloak. He made his way to the throne room, letting a bit of swagger enter his step. Better to look cocky and confident than insecure and scared. He was the leader today, after all. The doors of the throne room opened and the Coven Heads began filing out.

“Good. You’re all here. We can get started-” he began.

Terra, in particular, was leading the new Bard Coven Head, Raine Whispers, out, yet she couldn’t help but push Hunter aside as she passed. The other Heads bumped into him, shoving him into the wall.

“Hey! Ugh! Wha- Where are you- Ugh! I said wait! Come back here!” he yelled after the Heads. Raine stopped and looked at him, concern written across their face. Terra grabbed their shoulder and led them away. He noticed that there were only 7 Coven Heads, meaning that-

He burst into the throne room, seeing Darius and Eberwolf reviewing scrolls. He asked them where everyone was going, to which Darius gave him a frustrated sigh.

“Good morning to you too, little prince,” Hunter frowned at the nickname. “We’ve decided to reschedule the meeting, so go play arts and crafts or…whatever it is you do.” Hunter frowned at the man, wondering why all the Heads were disobeying the Emperor’s schedule. Before he could think about it more, though, Darius’ goopy hair reached out and grabbed Hunter’s cloak. The man laughed at it, insulting Hunter’s sewing skills. He noticed the sigil Hunter had sewn on it, commenting about its origins.

Hunter retorted, reminding the Abomination Head that he was not only dealing with the Golden Guard, but also the Emperor’s nephew. Darius didn’t respond in the way Hunter had expected, only saying that he’d known Hunter’s predecessor, then insulting Hunter’s magical ability, or lack thereof.

“But Belos says I don’t need magic to serve the coven” Hunter retorted.

“And I say you don’t deserve to wear that patch” Darius shot back.

The man walked away, still holding the cloak. Hunter turned to him nervously asking how he could earn it. Darius ordered him to go find new recruits, telling him that he could earn the cloak back afterwards. Hunter agreed, letting Darius know that he’d do exactly that.

“Of course you will. You’re very good at doing exactly as you’re told.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hunter snuck around Hexside school after he landed, finding a Potions uniform in a forgotten Grudgby bag. He put it on, keeping his gloves and boots. Stowing his Golden Guard uniform, he crept out to the courtyard where a club fair was being held. He hid behind a stand, observing the passing students. Flapjack appeared on his shoulder, tweeting.

“Sure, I’ve never actually spoken to witches my age. Teens are probably into the same things as me! Like authority and rules!” he said happily to the red bird.

He made his way around the fair, speaking to several students, selling his pitch about joining the Emperor’s Coven. Unfortunately, none of them took him up on it, instead looking at him strangely and seeming uncomfortable. The worst one was a tall witch who announced that he would fix the Coven System when he was older. Horrified, Hunter stepped backwards and unknowingly tread on the tail of a griffin. He turned as he heard it hiss and spit, its owner holding it back. However, as strong as the witch was, she couldn’t hold it back for long. Flapjack extended into a staff and Hunter mounted it, taking off as the furious griffin pelted after him.

His staff training served him well, weaving through the air, leading the angry creature away. He paused for a moment which proved to be a disaster as the beast bit his foot. He yanked his leg away, his boot trapped in the griffin’s beak. He nosedived towards the griffin, yanking his boot out of its mouth, whirling past a few astonished witches on the ground. One of them yelled out to him, sending vines in his direction. He tried to fly away, but the thorny vines had entrapped him, binding him to the ground. The witch approached him ominously, her shadow cast over him.

“Wanna join my Flyer Derby team?” she said, grinning widely.

The vines released him and he brushed them off as he stood up, eyes cast downward. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand and shook it aggressively.

“This is Gus Porter, and I’m Willow Park, future Captain of Hexside’s first Flyer Derby team” she said excitedly.

The boy next to her, Gus, looked at him suspiciously and asked for his name. Hunter broke into a sweat. He didn’t want to reveal his actual name for multiple reasons. One, no one outside of the Emperor’s Coven knew his name. Two, no one knew his face. Three, he was to remain anonymous as Golden Guard, and four, he’d look odd since he had no surname to give. Perhaps he did have a surname somehow, but that information had never been divulged to him.

Flapjack landed on his shoulder. Caleb, he chirped. Hunter came up with the name on the fly. To these two, he was now Caleb Jasper Bloodwilliams from the Toes. He started to turn away, going back to his mission. The Captain handed him a pamphlet which he snatched away. Flipping it over, he saw the slogan.

“Wait! Do you really think your club will attract the best and the brightest?” he asked. Willow confirmed that, yes, it would. Hunter excitedly asked how they would evaluate the worthiness of others, calling upon the Scout Trials for inspiration. Though Willow brushed him off, laughing at his enthusiasm, Gus sternly warned him not to mess things up, trailing after the captain.

Chapter Text

Hunter awkwardly followed behind Willow and Gus, still feeling the hostility from the boy. They entered the school and convened in a classroom. Willow then informed Hunter that, in order to get more people to join the team, they’d have to put on a performance showing the student body what Flyer Derby was about. Willow then asked if he’d be the one to do it since she was impressed with his flying skills. Hunter felt his cheeks warm and he sheepishly nodded. Willow grabbed brochures out of her bag and took up her position on the stairs of the main entrance. Summoning a crowd, she announced the spiel of the sport. With his cue, Hunter mounted his staff and flew out of the school, doing several maneuvers in the air. The crowd cheered for him and he saw Willow handing out many of her pamphlets.

“This girl will be a perfect candidate for the Emperor’s Coven. If there are more witches like her, we’re set!” Hunter said to himself. Willow called to him and he landed, noticing the two witches surrounding Willow and Gus. He was introduced to them as Viney, the girl from earlier who’s griffin was trying to get back at him, causing her to struggle with holding it back, and Skara, a girl lounging lazily with her scroll. Gus, meanwhile, was trying to fly on his staff and ended up going backwards and crashing. Hunter felt his heart sink. There was no way any of these witches would make it in the EC. He was better off finding a different group.

As he was walking away, Willow approached him. Without meaning to, he snapped at her asking if this was the best she could do.

“You just met them! Give them a chance!” she retorted.

“Well, where I come from, even chances have to be earned,” he said, thinking of his uncle. “Especially if you’re considered half-a-witch like me” he grumbled, angered at what the Coven Heads would think of him if he came back empty handed. He began walking away again when he was sucked down into the ground. He panicked as he felt himself being transported elsewhere. He popped out into the center of the Grudgby field.

Skara approached him, apologizing for being distracted because she had needed to be caught up on Flyer Derby strategies due to playing Grudgby for a while. Hunter was impressed by how complex the images on her scroll looked. He saw Viney healing her cuts from putting Puddles the griffin down for a nap. Overhead, he saw Gus flying on his staff, electing to surf rather than straddle it. He landed and Hunter felt guilty. These witches were talented, he’d just jumped to conclusions. He yelped as Willow popped out of the ground beside him. She asked if he was with them and he agreed. They grabbed a tub of green paint to mark their faces for the game. Hunter chose a lightning bolt over his left eye.

While they were waiting for the other team to show up, Hunter borrowed a crow phone from Viney to call Darius. The man sounded less than pleased to be disturbed, but Hunter excitedly told him about the recruits. He noticed the other team walking on the field and he hung up, joining his team. They lined up and took off when the whistle blew.

Hunter dodged a spell and teleported to one of the players on the purple team, grabbing her flag. He passed it to Gus who nabbed them the point. He cheered Gus on, causing the other boy to crack a smile. His other teammates were tagging the rest of student players which left Hunter to target the professor. Stealthily he flew to the other end of the field before teleporting at the last moment and snagging the flag from the end of the professor’s staff. As he flew off, he saw Willow start to fall off her staff, two flags in her hand. He flew quickly, snagging them from her so she could summon a plant to land softly. He reached the goal and put the flags on, securing their victory.

He landed softly and Viney poured a bucket of red liquid on him. The professor grumpily approached them, asking for their team name.

“The Emerald Entrails!” Hunter blurted out. He waited for scorn, but none came. Instead he was grabbed by the shoulders and shook while the team cheered the name. Willow pulled out her scroll, taking a team photo.

Hunter chatted with the group, having a genuinely fun time. He couldn't believe that he’d been missing out on this type of interaction for his whole life. He apologized for nearly missing out on the wonderful opportunity he’d been presented, announcing that they’d play for the EC next game. He transformed into his Golden Guard uniform, sans cloak, with the aid of Flapjack.

The reaction he received was not of joy, but of blatant confusion and anger. He heard gasps as he saw scouts approaching. He tried sending them off but was informed they were sent by Darius.

He joined the scouts on the airship where the team was tied up. They flew to the precinct in Bonesborough where his teammates were put in a cell with a lot of struggle, resulting in Steve getting a punch to the face by Skara. He approached the bars asking why they weren’t ecstatic to be joining the Emperor’s Coven. Hunter felt his smile vanish as the Captain berated herself for trusting him, almost on the verge of tears. He felt his stomach drop. The last thing he wanted was to upset her. He’d messed up.

Abomination goo suddenly sucked the team down into the ground, causing Steve and Hunter to run outside. An airship was waiting outside with Darius on board. He threw Hunter’s cloak down to him, flying off with a disappointed look on his face. Steve approached him, his mask still dented from the punch.

“I do not envy those kids, man,” Steve said casually.

Hunter disagreed, saying that they’d be fine. Steve reminded him of Scout Trials and how bad they were for them, adding that their palismen would be taken away from them by his uncle. Hunter flashed back to the memories of Belos snapping palismen in half and inhaling their souls to satiate his curse. Steve walked down the stairs while Hunter watched the airship drift away, his thoughts conflicting.

He made up his mind. He’d finally met people that he’d do anything for. They’d trusted him and he’d betrayed them. He had to do the right thing. He teleported himself onto the ship, distracting Darius. Apparently, the team had had their own escape plan ready to go, as they were able to take control of the ship and land it. Viney crashed it into the sea, the team landing on the beach. Hunter watched as Darius prepared to attack. He rushed forward, spreading his arms, blocking the team behind him.

“Out of my way, Little Prince” Darius snarled.

“No! I was mistaken. These four are insolent agitators who aren't fit for the Emperor's Coven,” he said, looking down”And I'm unfit to wear the sigil of the Golden Guard.” Hunter removed the cloak, glancing back at Willow. “You can go. Please, Captain.”

The team left him with Darius. Darius began to scold him, raising a scythe-arm of Abomination goo. Hunter tensed, bracing for a blow. Darius merely tapped him on the head, his demeanor changing. He instead gave him a scroll, opened to Penstagram, saying that he was pleased to see that Hunter had made friends.

“Are you gonna tell Belos about this?” he asked, worried that the illegal scroll would bring him trouble.

“Are you going to tell him about your secret palisman?” Darius asked, causing Hunter to gasp.

Darius led him down the beach, telling him that he was doing well, though he could use a sewing lesson. They chatted for a long time, making their way back to the castle. For once, Hunter felt seen and heard, appreciated for all the things he could do, instead of being scolded for his shortcomings.

Chapter Text

Hunter stumbled through the forest, running away from the Owl House. His thoughts swirled around, his galderstone heart pounding in his chest, stonesleeper lungs pinching from the limited oxygen he was getting. He tripped over a root, falling to the ground with his legs twisted under him. He lay there, his foot throbbing in agony and his knees making furrows in the soil.

He was thrashing in the dirt, crawling his way to the surface, the earth clogging his nasal passages. A bright light hit his eyes. He couldn’t see-

He was falling, being pulled under in Belos’ mind, the fallen Golden Guards dragging him downwards, their cold hands around his limbs-

Broken masks-

Hunter tugged on his hair, trying to ground himself as the memories flashed by, increasing his already high breathing rate even further. He managed to curl up into a ball, his back pressed up against a tree. He felt a weight settle on his shoulder, sharp talons piercing through his tunic.

Belos’ clawed gauntlets were squeezing his shoulder, the curse leaking out onto Hunter’s cloak. The dark eye holes of the mask bore into his own-

“Our family is gone because of wild magic”-

Flapjack chattered in his ear, his feathery body pressing into Hunter’s cheek. His witch wasn’t responding, just staring at the ground with his arms wrapped around his knees. The cardinal took the boy’s loose strand of hair in his beak and gave it a tug.
Hunter looked up to see Flapjack hovering in front of him, twittering incessantly. He grabbed the bird gently, putting him on his knee and stroking the soft crest of feathers on his head.

“It was all a lie, Flap. Everything. Hunter choked the words out between tears. His feelings raged like a storm over the Boiling Sea. His Uncle-Belos-Philip, lied. He didn’t have any family, he wasn’t supposed to exist.

Out of all the Grimwalkers, you look the most like him.

All the memories of times spent with the man, Hunter found himself evaluating whether they were real. Has Belos ever been truthful about anything? Did he ever care about him?

Why would he? You’re nothing to him. Just his loyal servant, a toy to be broken. How many Golden Guards have there been?

Hunter felt sorrow, rage, fear, and disappointment all at once. He’d been living a lie. His whole life, he’d devoted everything to the one person he thought he could trust, the one who he thought cared about him.

Boy must hide! Bad man knows!

Flapjack pulled him out of his thoughts, galvanizing him into action. The little bird settled onto his shoulder as he pulled his aching body up. Where to go? He couldn't go to the castle, the towns were crawling with scouts, and he certainly couldn’t stay at the Owl House.

His feet took him to the one place he’d ever felt safe in his life. Hexside.

Chapter Text

Hunter’s stomach was growling with hunger. He’d managed to coax the vending machine to cough up Hex Mix. He didn’t like that he had to threaten it, but he did what he had to in order to not starve. He had also stopped by the school’s library on his way back to his hiding spot and nabbed books about grimwalkers. Hunter had set up a spot in the Paranoratorium, backstage and behind some set pieces. He’d scrounged around in the lost and found and found some different clothes, using his old tunic as a part of his bedding.

Currently, he’d been in there for a week. Flapjack had been foraging for scraps in the cafeteria, bringing him food that students had thrown out. The little cardinal came racing towards him swiftly followed by a boy on a staff who Hunter quickly identified as Gus. Gus landed looking around while Hunter crept out of the shadows, causing Gus to whip around to him.

“What are you doing here, Golden Guard?” Gus asked, contempt in his voice.

Hunter stepped forward further, affixing a smug grin to his face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. But rest assured, Gus, I-” Hunter was beginning to say, but he was interrupted by a clattering noise behind him as some of the books he’d haphazardly piled on top of each other fell over. Hunter whipped his cape in front of the mess as Gus peeked around him to see what happened. Hunter blushed.

Great, he thought, he’s gonna take pity on me now.

Gus furrowed his brow, gripping his staff tightly.

“I’ll ask you one more time. What are you doing here, Hunter?” The tone of Gus’ voice while saying his name made Hunter go silent, unsure of how the boy felt about him. While trying to evaluate Gus’ body language, Flapjack flew out and tugged on his cowlick, causing his hood to fall. He yelped in pain, shooing the bird away until he landed on Hunter’s shoulder, earning the bird a glare from his witch. Grimwalker, Hunter corrected himself.

“Truth is, my living situation has been compromised. Maybe. So I just need a place to crash. Temporarily! Hexside... was the only place I could think of'', Hunter stammered. Gus gave him a look, calling him out for being vague. He then asked him where the human was. Surprised, Hunter answered that he had no idea, thinking that she was probably with the Owl Lady.

As soon as he finished answering, Principal Bump’s voice cut over the speakers. Gus summoned his lunchbox, handing it over to Hunter with a remark about Hex Mix being bad for the stomach. Hunter took it begrudgingly, though his stomach admitted its gratitude. When he looked up, Gus had already gone.

__________________________________________________________________

He’d been petting Flapjack when his view of the defunct stage turned into a forest, the blue haze of illusion magic coating it. Hunter stood, Flapjack already jumping into staff form. He could see through the forest and could make out other figures traversing their way through it. Flapjack sensed Gus’ palisman, Emmiline Bailey Marcostimo, through the illusion, guiding Hunter to the boy. As he approached, he could see Adrian, the illusion covenhead, gripping Gus the same way Belos would when Hunter would misbehave.

How many times do I have to tell you not to do that? You don’t ever listen, you pathetic excuse of a nephew, do you? Perhaps a more forceful punishment will make you learn!

Hunter cleared his head of the memory, the scar that resulted from it prickling with the sensation. He pushed through the illusion, grabbing Gus’ hand and barreling past Adrian. The two boys enter what appears to be Bonesborough, but quickly crash against a wall, which is actually a set of lockers, causing them to fall to the ground. Hunter recovered quickly, checking his head for injuries, then glancing over at Gus. He is startled to see the young boy’s single glowing eye. Blue. Hunter feels terror clutching at his stomach, visions of Belos’ cold blue eyes glowing as they bore into him. He shakes his head, focusing on his friend.

“You ok?” Hunter asks, concerned for Gus. Gus explains that his illusion is active to which Hunter asks him to politely get rid of it. Perhaps Gus didn’t see it as polite, but he begins panicking a bit, confused on how big the illusion is. Hunter immediately jumps in, his leadership instinct taking control. He comments that they should find a teacher when Gus asks him why he saved him from Adrian.

“I owed you. For the food.” It’s a pitiful excuse, but Hunter wanted to dance around the real reason. Gus doesn’t seem convinced as Hunter tests out a set of stairs, quickly falling and landing with a groan as he realizes they aren’t an illusion. Gus pushes further, pointing out that Hunter had tried getting him and the other Entrails teammates into a coven. Hunter deflects further when Gus asks him point blank what is going on with him. Thankfully, they are interrupted by scouts whom Hunter immediately attacks, only to end up encased in Abomination goo.

The scouts yell at him, which is fine, he’s used to it, but they quickly realize who he is and explain that Belos is looking for him. Hunter’s blood freezes. He can’t go back. Not ever. He’s dead if he does. While Hunter is panicking, unbeknownst to him, Gus draws a fire glyph in Abomination goo while Flapjack loosens the vines holding him. The two boys manage to escape, Hunter enduring a panic attack as they push through the illusion and end up in Gus’ bedroom.

Through his panic, he feels a hand on his shoulder and Gus instructs him to breathe. He shows him a technique with counting, and Hunter is able to get himself breathing again, the panic more subdued.

“Did you run away from the Emperor’s Coven?” Gus asks. Hunter nods, ready to be honest with someone who has shown he cares about him, unconditionally. However, the words get stuck in his throat and he buries his head in his knees.

“Not too long ago, when I showed a little talent and started taking more advanced classes, it always felt like anyone who wanted to be my friend had an ulterior motive. Until I met Willow. And, eventually Luz, and some others,” Gus explains, “Not everyone is bad, you know. For what it’s worth, you can trust me. I promise not to mess with you.”

Hunter scoffed at Gus, not convinced as they entered the illusion once more. Finding a water fountain, Gus touches it and, through the power of discarded gum, discovers it isn’t an illusion. The boys are interrupted by Willow, whom Gus immediately rushes over to. Hunter glares at “Willow”, not convinced. Something wasn’t right about the captain. He voices this, but “Willow” becomes frightened. That was the confirmation he needed to correctly assume she wasn’t real. “Willow” transforms into a tall scout as Adrian reappears to scold her for her performance. The Coven Head approaches Hunter and Gus who run away.

Before they can turn the corner, Hunter is stopped by the one person he never wanted to see again. Exceptionally tall, in full regal garb and blue eyes burning from under the mask, Belos appears before Hunter like a harbinger. He freezes, whispering the man’s name before he is kicked to the ground, Belos disappearing and being replaced by two scouts. An illusion, and Hunter couldn’t see it. With as much command as he could muster, he demands the scouts to stop, using his authority as the Golden Guard, runaway or not.

Unfortunately for him, his runaway status trumps any authority he may have had and he is unceremoniously manhandled into submission. One of the scouts casts a spell that, through his haze of fear and exhaustion, he recognizes as a deadly spell for execution that they sometimes use instead of petrification. He freezes, giving up the fight as the whirring spell approaches. The scout is halted by his partner, and it disappears, being replaced by bard magic, causing his vision to blur and he falls asleep.

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The next time he wakes, he sees Flapjack standing above him, cocking his head in concern. As his vision returns, he sits up and sees students crowding around him. Looking around the room, he tries to get up, calling for Gus. Someone grabs his arm as he tumbles to the ground, assuring him that he’s safe and in the Healing Homeroom at Hexside. As he regains his balance, the principal, Bump, approaches him, a stern look on his wrinkled face.

“We saw you being dragged around, and the flyer derby team was determined to save you.”, Bump said, glaring at Hunter who looked around the room to avoid eye contact. “But I am not yet convinced of your innocence. Where have your scouts taken Augustus?”, he demanded.

Several students developed distrustful looks on their faces, whispering to each other. Hunter pleaded that he was not with the scouts, that he was a runaway, and that all he wanted to do was to help. The illusion teacher suggested that he be traded for Gus as she was certain that Belos wanted him back. Hunter felt his whole body flinch at this statement, pleading to anyone who would believe him. He couldn’t go back!

Suddenly, Willow stepped up and corroborated his statements, confirming that he could be trusted. As she and the youngest Blight connected on making plans to retrieve Gus and drive Graye out, Hunter felt his heart rate slow down. He’d been so close to being dragged in front of Belos- Philip, that he nearly gave in just to let things end, as he would certainly be killed on the spot. He is broken out of his reverie by Willow informing him that the other students have begun to approach the scouts.

Following behind, he gets his chance to defend his teammates and their peers using Flapjack’s magic to teleport behind scouts and throw them off. He and a few others are able to break through and enter the gym where they are greeted by a massive bubble surrounding a small figure. Around it, scouts and Graye writhe in agony, their eyes turned blue by the illusions tormenting them in their heads. A scout approaches from behind with an Abomaton remote in hand. The girls instruct him to get Gus while they tackle the scout.

Hunter reaches out towards the bubble, passing Graye who is muttering to himself like a madman. As he makes contact with the azure surface, he nearly falls to the ground as the illusion targets him, causing memories of all the hurt he’s endured. Flashes of green tendrils reaching towards him, their points sharpened to blades, cold, blue eyes staring down at him from behind a deer mask, and those same eyes glaring at him with thoughts of murder behind them as he runs away from the man who raised him, the very same one he called Uncle.

He pushes through his pain as he comes to the realization that, for now, this isn’t about him, it’s about Gus. For once in his life, he needs to be there for someone, not because it’s his duty, or because if he doesn’t he’ll get a new scar, but because this is his friend, and he is the only one who can get him through this. Hunter makes contact with Gus’ shoulder, but instead of dissolving the illusion, it transports them to other locations. A forest, where bullies circle around Gus, taunting him, the detention room, mirrors, and finally Gus’ room where Hunter can finally see Gus in his full form.

The younger boy buries his face in his knees, lamenting that he can’t trust anyone, but especially himself. Hunter thinks for a moment and, though he’s never had to handle a situation like this before, feels the empathy flow from his heart. He knows some of the pain Gus is feeling and if he can connect and provide even a bit of comfort, then Titan damn it, he will.

“It's... hard, when you can't trust yourself. I spent my whole life believing I was doing something good for someone good... but it was a lie. And some part of me still wants to.. believe in that lie, just like you wanna believe you're dumb, or, whatever. But it's not true.” Gus raises his head, looking Hunter in the eyes. “I promise. I wouldn't mess with you. Uh, now, uh, how did that breathing thing go again?” He attempts the breathing technique, resulting in whistling between his missing teeth. Gus laughs, his eyes losing the blue glow and the illusion disappearing completely.

Hunter feels two bodies crash into him as Willow pulls himself and Gus into a tight hug. He feels his face flush before he is released, being thanked by Willow for his contribution. Some time later, he and the students stand outside watching as the scouts leave, Graye being dragged into the airship. A scout captain threatens the principal, but Bump coolly retorts saying that the Emperor would be pleased to see the students of Hexside countering a bunch of scouts.

As the airship flies away, students approach him, begging him for inside information about the Emperor’s Coven. The students are silenced by Bump who approaches him and probes him to explain. Even though it’s difficult, he tells everyone about the Day of Unity, the draining spell, and how witches will be affected. He considers telling them about Belos’ true identity, but he can’t open that wound wider. When he’s done, the faces of everyone are telling; they are worried. He starts to walk away, as he’ll need a new place to stay, but Gus stops him, letting him know that he can stay at his house. Against his better judgment, Hunter follows, and though he has no idea what his future holds, he’s glad he has a friend like Gus.