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It felt like Belos had been walking for hours. The dense fog in the woods made it hard to know where he was going or where he was coming from. Looking around, the trees looked from the human realm, but the white fog made it hard to really look at them. He zoned out as he walked, thinking about the fight against her.
Why couldn't she see he was trying to save her from that realm?
He snapped back to reality once he was able to see a large white brick house on top of the hill in front of him. The house itself towered over the forest, the most noticeable feature was the stained glass windows, and the watchtower on top. As he got closer to open the large doors at the front, they suddenly opened for him.
Belos stepped back, his arms crossed under his cloak. The open doors revealed a crowd of dancers all in unison on the ballroom floor. The dates of the decorations didn't match the dancers. The room looked like it was from the 1920s, with deep red wallpaper and deep-stained red floors with glass chandeliers in a row on the ceiling that curved by the sides. To the side of the room were two stairs that curved to the balcony above. Each stair had a deep red carpet that went down the middle. And off the dance floor was littered with circular tables covered with a white tablecloth. But the dancers wore clothes from the early Renaissance. Each dancer wore emerald gowns with white corsets having purple hyacinths embroidered into it. For the men suits with deep blue coats. The colors did not even match the rest of the room or each other. Each woman had deep red hair that went below their shoulders, and each man was a dirty blonde cut short. But their faces couldn't be seen no matter what angle they stood.
Belos stood out with his white and gold cloak and looked to be the oldest in the room; all the dancers looked young enough to just be 20 or a little older. And as he walked, the dancers moved away from him but seemed to be staying on a track. He didn't exactly know where he was going, but he hoped that maybe the room that opened from the balcony would give him some answers. But as soon as he looked up, he stopped in his tracks. Upon the balcony, with his arms resting on the white railing, was the familiar face he had been searching for for 400 years.
Caleb
As soon as Caleb noticed him standing below the balcony, the rest of the dancers froze and stood in place. What Caleb wore was nothing he’d ever seen him wear. He wore a gold waistcoat with a white undershirt that had ruffled sleeves and a blue justacorps over it. Instead of the sigil of Gravesfield on the right side of his chest, he had a broach of a purple hyacinth made of diamonds right on where his heart would be. Caleb’s thick black eyebrows lowered upon seeing him, and he stood up straight.
“What brings you here, traveler?” he spoke. Belos was taken aback by how different he sounded from Hunter. Hunter sounded more high-pitched and squeaky, while Caleb was lower and rougher. Each word sounded like it was deep in his throat, and his Dutch accent was clear to the ear. His tone matched his expression, he did not sound pleased.
“Caleb I-” Belos spoke, finding it hard to gather the words seeing his long-lost brother before him.
“You dare to address me like that?!” Caleb’s voice boomed throughout the ballroom, making the dancers look at him.
“Who do you take me as stranger?” Caleb sounded offended being addressed by his first name, as did the rest of the dancers.
Belos opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. Caleb raised an eyebrow.
“Have you nothing to say? Leave, you are not welcome here,” he pointed to the door behind Belos, which swung open on its own. Belos turned to look at the door before looking back up at Caleb, now seeing him exiting the doors behind him. Belos froze for a moment before climbing up the stairs to the balcony to follow Caleb. The exit Caleb took was just a rectangular void; he couldn't see Caleb or the room he went into, but was too blinded by wanting to speak with Caleb that he walked through without a second thought. But as he walked through the room changed around him until he walked into a small kitchen. The walls were covered in white wallpaper with pink roses painted on it, and from the ceiling hung crystals on small silver chains, all different colors, mainly faded purple or pink. Plants littered the counters, all being flowers, lilies, lilacs, and tulips. Caleb sat at a small round table with lilies embroidered into the white tablecloth. With a small tea tray with a light blue kettle made of glass, with a doe and a fawn painted together in the middle. He sipped from a teacup with a doe painted on it, looking out the sliding glass door behind him, looking into the white fog. Caleb’s expression changed once he saw Belos, from calm to annoyed.
“Are you just going to stand there? Sit,” Caleb gestured to the chair in front of him. Belos hesitantly sat down, and Caleb poured him tea into a teacup with a fawn painted on it. They both said nothing to one another, the tension growing with the silence.
Until Belos spoke up.
“I tried to-”
Caleb cut him off immediately.
“If you are going to make excuses for your actions, I don't want to hear it.” he says with a tone cold as ice.
“Its not an excuse,” Belos snapped back.
“Why can't you see that I was trying to save you!”
“From who? The witch you already killed?” Caleb raised a brow, and Belos went silent.
“It wasn't about her… was it?” Caleb snarled.
“No, all of a sudden, your 'big brother' wanted to do something that you didn't, and it's world-ending.” Caleb rolled his eyes.
“You know what my intentions are” Belos looked peeved.
“Do I now?” Caleb looked down at his cup, he sounded sarcastic.
“The intentions you told me to have!” Belos hissed through clenched teeth. Caleb didn't seem threatened as Belos expected when Belos stood to get some kind of fearful reaction out of him.
Caleb looked unamused. He sighed.
“Sit down, you look like a fool.” Caleb simply says, gesturing for him to sit down with a flick of his wrist.
Belos stayed standing, not allowing himself to follow that traitor’s commands.
“You really haven't changed a bit” Caleb sneered, putting the teacup back on the tray. He stands and grabs Belos’s cup before turning his back to him to put it away. As he walked the fog followed and started to swallow Belos in its path
“And you can't seem to listen to me!” Belos thundered, trying to get past the fog before it fully consumed him.
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It felt like Belos had been walking for hours. The dense fog in the woods made it hard to know where he was going or where he was coming from. Looking around, the trees looked from the human realm, but the white fog made it hard to really look at them. He zoned out as he walked, thinking about the fight against her.
And that was how the story went, for an eternity that he was trapped, he had every option to leave, but that meant letting Caleb go, and his disputes with him. But every single time, he chose to follow Caleb and not let him go.
That was his punishment. For as long as time he would never change, never stop.