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Chapter Text

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙮

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Nature was a beautiful thing, truly. It wasn’t only a sight to behold, for if one would listen closely, they would hear quaint sounds that would serve as a melody for those eager to hear it.

The gentle hums emitted by the various birds perched on top of the tree branches.

The rippling noises of a nearby river echoing faintly within the forest.

And the whistling noises of the cool breeze.

It was strange, however, that the sound alternated between fading into a quiet wind before abruptly transforming into an abnormally strong gust that caused numerous leaves to fall off of their respective tree. 

Accompanied by each gust, was a slight growl originating from the frustrations of a young boy, as he wallowed in his internal turmoil. At this point, it was evident that these specific noises came from something—or someone—beyond nature. 

Morro believed that he needed to spend time outside the monastery and forget that that day ever happened.

Sadly, no matter what sign of respite nature decided to offer him, the events which occurred a few days prior were still heavily engraved in his mind. 

——————

(3 Days Ago…)

Morro was ecstatic when he discovered that Wu finally decided to prove once and for all that he was the destined Green Ninja. 

Well—then again, it wasn’t like either of them needed evidence. 

The moment the boy started harnessing the potential of his elemental ability, Wu claimed that there was no doubt that the former was indeed the boy described in one of Ninjago’s oldest prophecies. If Wu—the wisest, most generous, and kindest man he ever knew—said that Morro was worthy of such a title, then the latter would believe him wholeheartedly! 

Of course, he did everything in his power to prove that he was, indeed, worthy. 

He practiced his powers everyday, joined the older man in his daily meditational practices, and underwent rigorous training from sunrise to sunset. There was no way that Destiny wouldn’t choose him to be the Green Ninja!

…which was why said boy was genuinely confused as he stared at the Golden Weapons with pure disbelief painting his entire face. His gaze quietly trailed the individual features of each of the four weapons before him, his hope diminishing by the second. 

The Sword of Fire with its sharp edge was nothing like its tenacious element, for it laid uncharacteristically still on the wooden surface of Wu's table. The Scythe of Quakes could form mountains and shake the ground, yet right now it couldn't even move a pebble. The Nunchucks of Lightning could strike its opponent with electrifying energy, yet it failed the intimidation factor as it remained unmoving. Finally, the Shurikens of  Ice could freeze any unfortunate individual until they succumb to frostbite, yet at this very moment, the small weapons themselves were frozen still. 

None of them budged. 

To outsiders, it was normal. Weapons were tools to be manipulated by their user during an occurring battle, afterall. So, they weren’t supposed to move without a wielder, right? 

Well, to Morro, his whole worldview was flipped upside-down with this heart-shattering discovery.

The raven quietly prayed to the First Spinjitsu Master that these unmoving relics would just do something. Do anything that could serve as a response to Morro's presence. But alas, after a couple of long, agonizing minutes, none of the golden weapons even moved an inch. 

The excitement that previously shone like stars in the boy's innocent, emerald eyes immediately disappeared at this revelation, replaced with utter disappointment. Afterall, in order to prove that he was the Green Ninja, the prophesied savior of Ninjago, these priceless objects have to respond to the person standing in front of them. 

These weapons basically shrugged Morro off like a meaningless speck of dirt.

"That can't be… I—I'm the Green Ninja!" Morro exclaimed half-heartedly. He was only half aware of the words escaping his mouth, as his gaze remained fixed on the golden weapons.

The green streak imprinted on the boy's hair, suddenly felt like a burden laid upon his delicate head. The raven closed his eyes, well aware of the very color that practically swirled within his pupils. All these unique features that Morro possessed, ones that used to make him feel significant, suddenly made him feel like an imposter. 

The boy trained so hard for nearly two  with never-ending dedication because he was confident that he would gain the desired outcome of being the greatest Green Ninja he could be. 

But these weapons were denying him that dream.

Wu opened his mouth, after remaining deadly silent all this time.

At that moment, Morro's mind recalled the scrolls he read every single night since that fateful day (when Wu defined the boy's possible purpose). The scrolls that contained old text, and imprinted upon them is the prophecy of the Green Savior. And that savior—

"Destiny has spoken."

—was not Morro.

He wasn't, and he wanted to scream until his lungs ran out of air.

Morro refused to acknowledge the pitiful gaze Wu aimed toward the young raven, but it was hard to ignore when it burned against the side of his skull. Despite the boy's insides screaming at him to not look at Wu, the former did anyway. 

The moment he created eye contact with the blond man's saddened eyes, the boy regretted his action instantly. They stared at one another for a few seconds, up until it turned unbearable. Morro's mouth moved without permission.

"Please... Please! I—I'll train more. I'll prove it to you if... if I have more time, I'll become so much—so much stronger!" The boy pleaded, his eyebrows furrowing as he realized his voice wavered desperately. Wu simply stared at the boy in a soft, guilty manner before looking away. 

Somehow, that non-verbal response managed to strike a chord in Morro—his emotions rapidly twisting and turning before settling on a feeling he hasn't felt ever since Wu took him in.

"…Then I refuse to listen!"

The gasp Wu let out was inaudible to Morro's ears, as the boy felt his fingertips twitch slightly as a strong gust of wind suddenly surrounded the raven like a raging tornado. The warm temperature in the room suddenly became cold in a matter of seconds. Morro's conflicted feelings only fueled his power, as it gained the strength to even blow off the door behind him. As he willed himself to prevent the tears swimming in his vision from falling down his pale cheeks, he held an accusing finger straight at Wu.

"You made me believe!"

With that, he ran out of the room, bringing his heartbroken wind along with him. 

His hurried footsteps echoed throughout the Monastery for what felt like hours. Disappointment dragged at his feet, leaving the floor screeching. Failure pounded within his tiny head: a feeling no child should ever need to possess. And anger burned his eyes, making him breathless. 

(Or perhaps it was snot clogging his nose, but who cared? Not him.)

Finally, he reached his destination, room within reach. With a flick of a wrist, the door to his bedroom was pushed open and only slammed closed the moment he entered. Morro cried angrily, plopping down in the corner of his bedroom. His body ached  at the rough action, but he simply gritted his teeth, internally screaming at himself that tears are a weakness. 

But they didn't stop falling, no matter how many times he tried to wipe them away. So, he just buried his head in his knees, the salty fluid staining his light g̶r̶e̶e̶n̶ gi. 

Why did Destiny have to deprive Morro of everything? 

It took so much away from him. Now, it took away his sole purpose in life. 

The only one that could have made his old man proud.

—————

Morro gritted his teeth as he kicked a nearby twig. 

Ever since Wu introduced the concept of ‘Destiny’ to Morro, the latter started to hide his dislike of it in order to save himself from an hour-long lecture from his sensei about the inner workings of the universe and the obvious tricks it’s fond of pulling. 

Morro never really believed in the idea of destiny, at first. Claiming that no matter what Morro did, his life would always end up in a specific way. 

That everything that occurred to him and will occur to him was necessary . 

If destiny really was real, would that mean he was destined to be abandoned in an alleyway with no memory of his birth parents, and spending most of his childhood on the streets? 

Morro huffed as he kicked another twig. 

A twig that flew into a dark cave—

Morro jumped back when he heard a huge roar echo within the cave’s entrance. Emerging from the shadows was a beast thrice the boy’s size walked out.  

Outraged by its awakening, it let out another growl (one that was far more terrifying compared to Morro’s earlier attempt) and revealed the sharp teeth that could easily cut through flesh and bone; saliva dripping down from its mouth as if the mere thought of consuming its victim was a dream come true. 

Despite being terrified, the boy still felt something in his mind click when he processed the creature’s appearance. This wasn’t an ordinary beast—it was the Grundle; a reptilian creature of slimy scales and monstrous gaze that only existed in tall tales. This one looked too real to be a mere story.

And Morro woke it up from its slumber.

The realization of what he just did caused him to freeze—only for a moment, before he took off in the opposite direction and ran like the wind. 

The pitter-patter of his feet were instantly followed by the loud thumping noises from the huge beast. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the beast would catch up to Morro eventually.

At that moment, the boy just realized how far he actually walked from the monastery.

With a bit of panic, Morro was about to resort to using his abilities as an extra boost before something else took hold of him.   

Gold and yellow sparkles suddenly flooded his vision, as his body was lifted by a swirling tornado before it disappeared once more. Shaking off the blur and dizziness from his vision, he realized that he was currently standing on a thick branch of a tall tree, leaving him out of reach for the Grundle to take hold of.

Morro couldn’t help but think that the beast looked smaller from up there.  

(Said beast was disappointed at the disappearance of it’s meal, and ultimately stalked back to the direction of where it’s cave was.)

The boy then turned to his side, beaming at the sight of his sensei and the latter’s ability of performing spinjitzu; a unique martial art technique that only elemental masters could do. 

(Wu insisted that Morro wasn’t ready to learn it though.)

The boy started profusely thanking his master, that he would have died if it wasn’t for him. That maybe, just maybe, it was Destiny that Morro was saved. He must have been the Green Ninja because why else would Destiny care so much about his safety, and—

And there it was. The concern was replaced by the same look he gave Morro a few days back. 

The boy hated that look. 

Without uttering a word, Wu took hold of Morro and formed another tornado that enveloped them with safety as they both landed on the ground. Wu looked like he wanted to say something, but instead stayed silent before walking away. He did so in a slow manner, leaving enough time for the boy to follow the man.

If the latter turned around, perhaps he would have seen anger replacing the pure distraught originally present on Morro’s face.

Said boy was glaring at the ground. (Attempting to push away his unease at seeing Wu’s disappointment once again.)

Morro clenched his fists.

Know what? Screw destiny. 

Morro could forge his own path.

  ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The dark colors fading in and out of the sky enveloped the entirety of the South of Ninjago. It was too dark, indeed; the blacks and the grays did not provide any comfort to anyone. Though, when lightning streaked across the sky, it lit up like a dragon had roared out blinding fire, so it helped a bit—in terms of light, not comfort. 

The howling winds caused multiple branches, both smooth and rough, attached to their respective tree barks, to sway along. The leaves danced, quite roughly, to the rhythm of the wind. The sky was only filled with dark clouds, for no birds even dared to take flight in such cruel weather. And across the land, puddles were already forming onto the dirt paths of quaint villages. The large drops of water dripping from the sky created ripples within those tiny pools, as well as causing roofs and metal structures to softly rattle from the impact of these rain drops.

This served to be a string of bad luck for those who inhabited the land, especially for the unsuspecting few wandering out this night- oblivious to the upcoming weather. The latter is exactly what Morro felt. 

Of all his packed essentials: a bottle, shirt, even matches (which he was totally allowed to have), he forgot the one thing he desperately wanted—no, needed: an umbrella.

The boy's black cloak only did little in keeping himself—mostly—dry. The natural elements were against the boy, including his very own, once-trusted wind; he quietly huffed as the violent breeze blew off Morro's hood, exposing his shoulder-length black hair to the rain. The boy quickly raised his hood back up, but it was too late. After such a long time... he got forced to take a shower. Without soap. Or shampoo. Yay.

Morro—childishly—huffed and flipped up a specific finger at the weather in retaliation. 

As if taking offense, another streak of lightning struck against a nearby stone, causing a yelp —that did not go two octaves higher than possible—to escape from the boy's mouth as he stepped back. He immediately regained his composure and scowled. For the next few minutes, Morro tightened his grip against his bag as he pushed through the wind that only tried to push him back. 

He then attempted to redirect the wind, but it was no use, it was too strong. This caused Morro to grit his teeth in frustration. He's the Elemental Master of Wind, yet he couldn’t even change the direction of a little breeze? Maybe he didn't practice enough. Maybe he didn't train enough. Maybe he wasn't strong enough. If he was, he would've been the Green Ninja.

Destiny has spoken.

Morro shook his head. He refused to entertain that thought. He was the Green Ninja. He will prove it to Destiny. He'll prove it to everyone: his parents whom he didn’t even remember—nor does he care for—and left him on the streets, the people on said street who didn't give two shits about the poor street rat, the little—definitely not adorable—kids that looked up to him with gratitude as he sacrificed his last piece of food so they can eat (while he held his stomach, enduring the hunger), and even to his old friends who abandoned him at the monastery when they were all caught searching through a garbage can by some man. That man, Sensei Wu, was the very person he really, really needed to prove it to! 

Anything to get rid of the disappointment in his eyes.

All Morro had to do was find the guarded tomb of the First Spinjitsu Master, the very creator of this entire (yes, entire) realm who had passed on long ago. 

Such an astounding achievement shall prove that Morro was capable. That he was bound to be the Green Ninja, no matter what. And in order to do that, he just had to seek and find the Caves of Despair. 

After his long perilous journey to the Library of Domu some time ago, he had discovered an ancient scroll that revealed the location of the tomb: laid within a deep, complex cave. 

It had to be in the Caves of Despair. And he'll find it. 

Morro bit his lip; if he couldn’t redirect the unruly wind, perhaps he could weaken it. With that idea quickly blooming, he slowly moved his wrist a few times, and in fruition: the wind weakened—slightly. It was still strong, but not like how a bad dancer would sweep Morro off his feet. In fact, it now had the same force as the gusts Morro trained with back at the monastery; nothing he couldn't handle. Said boy felt his chest swell with, what he believed to be, well-deserved pride as he resumed his journey. Some more time passed before he finally reached the mountain side. And soon, what stood before him was the very cave he sought after.

A new spark of determination lit up in the boy's eyes. For the first time in months, he allowed a smile of hope to form onto his face. But it dropped as soon as it came, replaced with an expression of solemnity and irritation, eye twitching. Morro then rushed toward the cave and into the entrance. He let out a sigh of relief. He was finally sheltered from the harsh elements, and happily took off his hood. 

The moment he did so, a thick, wet strand of hair flopped down onto his face and Morro blinked. He was a fair bit annoyed; arriving all the way out here just to get hair in his eyes. 

With the flick of a wrist, a calm breeze, nothing like the wind outside, entered the dry cave. It swirled like a mini tornado, and surrounded the raven-haired boy before diminishing, revealing a Morro whose clothes and hair were now completely dry: like he had never even been touched by the rain. 

He removed the bag from his back, opening it to retrieve a pack of matches he brought a while back. He could only hope that this box would be enough. 

He had to 'borrow' it from Wu's meditation room before leaving for this quest. Maybe, he thought, he could find a bigger piece of wood to use as a torch later on. 

With that in mind, Morro easily lit a match, his eyes softly glowing at the sight of the match's tiny, red tip catching ablaze, before he started walking deeper into the cave. 

He’ll prove it. 

He was worthy of becoming the Green Ninja.

(Hope was a fragile thing, yet it still continued to burn as bright as a fire within the soul of the young wind elementalist.

Little did he know that at the ripe age of fifteen, his hopes, along with everything else would come to an unfortunate end.)

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The Cursed Realm.

A foreign land inhabited by unfortunate souls that have committed numerous atrocities during their time in the living world—or perhaps experienced death so intriguing that it may have even grabbed the interest of the realm's ruler. The Queen of the Cursed, also known as the Preeminent. Once that happened, they were given the opportunity to accept a deal from her.

What would happen if they didn’t accept the deal? 

No one knew; for none of them were able to resist the temptation. 

It was as if a voice delicately whispered in their ear—a chilly breeze that blew past to share a message. A message that the victim couldn’t help but respond to.

Which would result in their soul being forever cursed—stuck wandering within a realm full of terrifying shadows lurking in every corner, and menacing green mists covering half one’s body. A place that served as a literal network of dark tunnels connecting with one another to form a huge maze. 

Funny; who knew lost souls could get even more lost?

Now, this should be a place of noise, shouldn't it? It was a hell, of course. 

What should be happening is that every cursed soul is screaming for help saying they can't get out—that the chains weighing them down were preventing them from leaving that forbidden place. They say some souls would sob like they were in hell, feeling the agonizing pain of being burned alive. Or that each of them would be swearing up and down for ending up in such a place. 

However, instead of the deafening chaos, an eerie silence surrounded the entirety of the realm. 

Specifically, its center. 

The cold air stifled anything that wished to break the deafening silence, for the chilly atmosphere was caused by their mother—their queen. Even if some ghosts would converse with one another, it's through soft whispers. For no one wished to destroy the queen’s peace. 

If anyone speaks out of turn, punishment is given in return. 

Which was why when the queen requested a summons from one of the fresh cursed souls regarding an urgent matter; the latter provided a mental list of reminders of the things he probably should and shouldn't do when in the presence of the Preeminent as he floated his way to the queen. 

Always bow down before and after speaking to the queen; no matter the urgency, respect always comes first. 

Always address her with her title and never her real name; it's practically forbidden to utter the queen's name aloud. 

Don't stutter when delivering your statements; she'll assume you wish to waste her precious time. 

Never be in close proximity with her—or else the probability of escaping a tentacle to the throat decreases drastically.

These self-tips were picked up from the few encounters he had with the queen, and the pointers he was given by some of the nicer souls, throughout the entire time he had been in this realm. 

Which wasn’t that long, considering he only arrived here nearly a month ago. 

Yet that length of time was enough to instill enough fear within the heart of the young ghost.

Despite having no spine, Morro felt a shiver travel down his back at the thought of being touched by the cold tendril of the queen. He was aware of the power the Preeminent had over him.

His entire being could be eradicated with one simple misstep. 

All because of that stupid deal.

Frustrations aside, curiosity stepped forward. 

The boy—the ghost was still oblivious to the reason why the queen asked for his presence. There's something up, he could feel it. Why else would the queen say it was urgent? What could it be? 

Through every twist and turn he took (memorizing every pathway of this realm was a must), Morro only felt dread seeping into his core. 

Even as a ghost it felt like there was something stopping him from going any further, but he pushed through. 

Finally, he reached the center. 

He recollected himself as he realized he shouldn't convey his emotions so openly. Displaying vulnerability in front of a potential threat was a dangerous move (it didn’t matter if he pledged his loyalty to her, Morro doubted that the queen trusted him at all).

With that in mind, the ghost placed two translucent hands behind his back, straightened his posture, and plastered a blank expression on his face. His cold demeanor was only enhanced by his slightly messy dark hair, the matching marks beneath his eyes, and the dark splotch of black on the side of his neck (the latter two being significant ‘trophies’ from his death that only followed him to the afterlife).

With a satisfied hum to himself, he then silently (of course, he had no problem there) approached the queen. 

Unlike the first time, he was no longer frightened by her uneasy features. Her eldritch appearance reminded Morro of a huge, horrifying version of a normal human eye. Wait, no. 

Nothing about the queen was normal. 

As the general floated closer, the queen noticed his presence. In acknowledgement, she gave a slow blink towards the ghost. The latter floated down an inch as he kneeled on one knee, bowing his head. 

"Greetings, my queen. I believe you have asked for me?"

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The  realm became even more silent as Morro passed the other cursed souls. The latter’s hushed conversations diminished as their moods became somber at the sight of the fresh soul, a glint of knowing in their eyes. 

The ghost would like to think he developed his poetic vocabulary skills after being within the same vicinity as a cryptic man like Wu; yet there were no words that would accurately express the feeling—or feelings?—that started to swirl within his heart. 

He…

He—

Wu… he replaced him.

By the looks of it, there was more than one. It had only been a few weeks since his death, and Wu was already having the time of his life. It was like the man completely moved on from him. 

After revealing the painful truth, the Preeminent informed him of her decision of appointing him as his head general for their big mission. She went on and on about how it was such an honor to receive such status, especially when he was new.

At the time, Morro was too hung up on the fact that he was replaced so quickly. But now…

He tightened his fists. 

He’ll show him. 

He’ll show him what he’s truly capable of, and he’ll prove that he’s not the kind of person that would be so easily forgotten.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

(1 week later… in Ninjago) 

All Morro needed to see was a huge wave of water only a few feet behind him before he started moving.

Water was a ghost's weakness, afterall.

Cue the inhumane shrieks that emerged from the sea; the muffled sounds of cursed spirits suffering from their fate caused bubbles to rise from the glistening water. 

These ghosts expressed their agony quite loudly, yet it only fell upon the ears of one ghost. 

Said ghost was desperately ignoring the painful screams of the soldiers he led to battle, as he narrowly tried to avoid the tidal wave of water giving chase to all the ghosts behind him. 

(In the distance; Nya, the new Master of Water, ceased her powers as her control upon her element was broken. This led to the sea returning to its calm state.)

As Morro looked over his shoulder, seeing that the whole population of the Cursed Realm dwindled to none, he didn't know it was possible for him to feel shame or pity until that very moment. 

As quick as his questionable feelings appeared, it was stomped upon immediately. For at that moment, something grabbed hold of him. 

Morro couldn't help but gasp a bit.

He struggled against the weird texture of a thick, slimy tentacle that was tightly wrapping around his torso. 

If he wasn't a ghost and was an actual, living human being, he would have felt his insides getting crushed at this point, allowing his movements to falter—that's the only good thing he gained from being a ghost. 

He wasn’t giving up unless he said so himself. 

With that thought fueling his own will to survive, his left hand gripped tighter upon the Realm Crystal, the bridge between worlds, while his free hand summoned a gust of wind to try and give himself a boost to free himself. As he continued thrashing against the grip of the tendril, his power only grew stronger by the second—but unfortunately, the increase in force also applied to the Preeminent's. 

This brought panic to the ghost. 

The owner of the tendril keeping him in place shrieked (the first time Morro ever heard her make a sound), the skull-crushing shrill roughly translating to " We go down together! ". That one message was the only sound she ever made, and caused Morro's distress to flow out of his core, as rage and distaste made him grit his teeth. 

Of course, the devil he (stupidly) struck a deal with didn't care for the raven. 

All she cared about was power over Ninjago. Domination over all sixteen realms—not a fifteen-year-old that was forced to become a cursed soldier right after his death. 

Morro was nothing but a pawn in this twisted little game of takeover the Preeminent decided to partake in, dragging all these ghosts along with her for simply obeying the queen's will. The enlightening realization made the ghost's stomach churn as the weight of his actions finally landed on his shoulders. 

(He ignored the guilt that felt like a punch to the gut.)

He went against everything he thought he stood for.

Just to prove that he was worth something.

To prove that maybe, he had a purpose. 

But no matter what Morro did—he'll always end up dying. It was his destiny to die, wasn't it? It was never enough. This was always his fate. 

Anger was then replaced by fear, for every second that passed, he was pulled closer down into the endless sea, a huge body of water that will only bring death upon him—the permanent kind. Here, Morro was about to get killed by his own master. The same master that he blindly followed. 

For what? Why exactly did he give into temptation that the voices whispered into his ears every night? 

At this point, it was a blur on why he succumbed to the temptations. To her.  

The Preeminent used all of Morro's anger as a weapon for her own benefit, before redirecting the aim of its sharp end toward the ghost himself. The morbid thought brought shivers down the ghost's non-existent spine. She was dragging him into the deep end for fuck’s sake. 

The raven's strength in his wind element did not waver, unlike his hope that is starting to flicker like a dying flame. 

Especially when Morro realized how dangerously close he was to the water. 

He was only a mere inch away from the surface of the sea when a hand wrapped itself tightly against Morro's—and as the latter registered the distant familiarity present in the touch, he held in a jerk. He was on a fine line between lashing out and crying.

He reluctantly looked up at the eyes of the man in front of him, flying on his mystical, elemental dragon and using up all his strength just to bring Morro to safety. Away from the grasp of the queen. 

He just had to face him, huh? The ghost tightened his grip on the realm crystal. 

He ignored the sound of a crack.

"Old man, let go of me! I'm not giving you this stupid crystal just to gain another prized pupil." Morro's tone portrayed rage, and it would have been convincing enough to think that was exactly how he was feeling if his face didn't betray him. 

Despite being a ghost, he looked like he was on the verge of tears, his face scrunched up in a pitiful manner. (If he knew what image he was displaying to his former mentor, Morro would have felt more ashamed than he already was.)

Unlike his grip on Morro, Wu’s gaze softened.

"Morro.. you are all my prized pupils." Morro's face hardened once more, and before he could let out a retort, Wu beat him to it. 

"And I am not letting you go. I did that once before—..." Wu said, his voice cracking in the end.

"Never again." Wu said in a voice full of conviction. The man sounded like he would do everything to persuade his student from doing anything drastic once more. (He needed to convince the raven to stay. For once, just stay .)

At those words, Morro’s defensiveness faded a bit, making way for exhaustion to appear like a veil upon the raven's tired eyes. Those few words conveyed so much to the boy, and upon hearing them he felt like every bit of anger left him, making way for the emotions that truly felt deep down. 

At least he got the chance to talk to Wu—before hurling threats and insults toward the older man—before he passed. It may come across as a morbid thought to some, but it was true.

Morro wasn’t weak. 

But neither was the Preeminent. 

The ghost tried to convince himself that he wasn’t going to die, but he wasn’t blind. 

Not anymore.

It was only a matter of time before Morro eventually got pulled into the sea. But now, if the queen succeeds, she would drag Wu down as well. That changes things. The old man wouldn't let Morro go—even if the latter was getting dragged into his impending doom. The ghost was not one for sympathy... but what would the ninja feel if they lost their teacher? 

If Wu died now, the ninja wouldn't even get to say goodbye. 

Morro, of all people, would know how that would feel like.

The ghost's frustration flickered as he felt conflicted. His clouded mind suddenly made way for thoughts he never knew he would ever have. 

There was always a timer on the raven's life that started ticking its way down the moment he existed. Morro knew that now. It was his fate from the very beginning. But Wu—his own thoughts abruptly cut off as time paused. 

It was only for a moment, but it was enough for Morro to quietly allow his eyes to trail the features of his former sensei; knowing this was the last time he was going to see him. 

The man now had a long white beard dangling from his chin. Whether or not his hair was still slightly blond, Morro will never know, for the former started wearing a bamboo hat as time passed. 

His face lost the quiet, youthful innocence he had when he was younger; and it was replaced by a stricken expression of fear, his age lines slightly scrunching up emphasized the manner of worry he felt. Morro's eyes softened a bit. 

Sure—Wu's old now, (somehow… perhaps time did work differently between realms. How long, really , did it take before Wu moved on from him?) but he still deserved the long life that awaited him. He didn’t need a pupil from the past to weigh him down. 

A pupil that was nothing but a selfish, unworthy disappointment. 

A boy that could no longer call himself a ninja. 

A child that deserved nothing from the one he viewed as his father.

With this realization, the ghost shielded his sadness by giving a small smile toward Wu, who only looked concerned.

"You can only save those who want to be saved." Morro said. His words flowed out of his mouth a bit too easily—but it wasn’t a surprise; it was the truth wasn’t it? 

The (former) general would never back down without a fight. But this wasn’t exactly backing down, was it? He still did his part. He still fought. It just… wasn't enough. 

Morro ignored the hurt present in the older man's expression. The raven always had a stubborn spirit. 

But of course that persistence would lead to a path that Wu cannot follow.

The ghost tightened his grip on the Realm Crystal (gritting his teeth as another resounding crack was heard beneath his ghostly fingertips) as he knew what he had to do.

The real green ninja needed to find his way back home, afterall.

"Goodbye... sensei." The ghost then looked at the older man once more as he immediately unwrapped his fingers from Wu's hand, the warmth his sensei has provided Morro's palm disappeared into the cold (to his dismay) as he immediately placed the Realm Crystal to replace where his hand once was. Wu visibly widened his eyes.

"No!" 

Wu watched in horror as Morro was suddenly pulled into the water. The movement wasn't abrupt and forceful like the man anticipated. 

Instead, it was slow and taunting, for the Preeminent knew there was no longer a hand to tug the other side of the rope. She had already won. 

No harm in reveling in her victory.

The bitter smile never left Morro's lips—but he was biting his lips desperately, thankful he had the inability to make them bleed, as he restrained himself from thinking too much about the pain that awaited him. You would think that during this time of night, the water would be freezing. But no, for ghosts, the excruciating heat was unbearable.

(And didn’t that bring wonderful memories for Morro.)

The water engulfed Morro into metaphorical flames, the burning sensation traveling throughout his entire being—like blood coursing through one's veins. The ghost opened his mouth, but no scream came out. 

The raven's body evaporated, resulting to a few bubbles appearing in the water, as steam started rising into the air, before they disappeared as well. 

Morro welcomed the cold that seeped into his soul. The relief from the pain brought merely a sense of comfort to his aching heart. 

But perhaps an alteration in the works of destiny is capable of healing it.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Darkness was a friend to some. The black eternal void provides a mysterious, yet soothing space for those who simply want to fade from reality. It was a welcoming greeting on a cold night—like a soft, thick blanket wrapping around your entire being, bringing warmth into your core. Safe to say:

Morro was beginning to like this version of death. 

He… started to question why he did unspeakable things just to avoid this.

Back in the Cursed Realm, his existence was confusing (and irritating) in and out of itself. As he carried out the weight of duties and responsibilities of a head ghost general, as well as the position of the Preeminent’s right-hand man; the constant reminder of him being a dead, cursed spirit loomed over the raven's shoulder. 

As if Destiny itself was taunting him about his utter failure during his time of being alive, and his pure cowardice during his time of death. 

Now, Morro was introduced to a foreign aspect of death. 

The numb feeling of floating around in an endless abyss was quiet; peaceful even. He couldn't see the dreadful appearance of his former 'master', or the menacing green highlighting everything, and everyone (including himself) in that forsaken realm. He couldn't feel the unsettling atmosphere of the Cursed Realm, nor the intense pressure weighing him down when he was afraid of his powers being weaker in his non-living state. He couldn't hear the troubling voices and images invading his mind whenever the Preeminent approached him, or the pleading tone present in his former sensei's voice. 

All his four remaining senses (since he didn’t have functioning lungs anyway) shut down in this place, giving him the opportunity to actually Rest In Peace, and he liked that. This could be the end of it all, and Morro wouldn't mind.

He wouldn't mind at all.

Unfortunately, the ghost suddenly felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips before it started to spread throughout his entire body.

It was exactly what he felt when he entered the portal to Ninjago. 

It was the same feeling he had when he flew through the Blind Man's Eye using airjitsu.

He felt his soul going somewhere—the Departed Realm perhaps? If Morro could still feel emotions in this foreign plane, he would've felt a twinge of sadness when he started to consider the possibility that he might not even be allowed to enter that realm. Wu always said that there, everyone was allowed eternal rest. 

But did Morro believe he was worthy of such? He didn’t.

The moment that thought was made known, it seemed that Destiny desired to prove Morro was correct in his assumptions (for once). 

He opened his eyes.

He blinked once. 

He cursed at the First Spinjitzu Master.

Chapter Text

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

(5 Years Ago...)

The sky was a serene canvas of sapphire-colors and scattered clouds. An airship steered past one cloud that managed to float by their current level, showing a group of witches and demons alike, doing whatever they wished in order to pass the time on the ship's deck. The airship was now calmly flying below the clouds, as the captain steered themselves to their next destination. 

The rest of the occupants of the ship were considered to be the very lucky people who managed to overcome the rigorous set of challenges thus far, in order to prove themselves worthy of becoming full-fledged members of the proud and pristine Emperor's Coven. 

Most of the recruits were entertaining one another with small talk, while some were doing simple little magic tricks to keep themselves busy. One could wonder how they remained so calm and collected after all the hardships they have faced thus far. The answer to that? 

They weren’t calm at all.

All of them were trying to keep their most recent anxieties at bay. Burying their internal panic on what could be their last test. The saying goes; save the best for last. 

But in this case, everyone on the ship was well aware that it's the opposite, especially after dealing with the previous challenges. Therefore, none of them could permanently get rid of the dread circulating within their stomachs. 

(Or perhaps some of them were just experiencing the common case of airsickness).

The only one remaining calm about the whole ordeal was a nine-year-old boy (yes, the youngest among the possible recruits) who was kicking his feet lightly as he sat on a chair as he allowed the ends of his loose pants to shift a little. In doing so, he tried to keep his grin of excitement from showing. 

The little boy, Hunter, was in the corner, practically buzzing in anticipation. For once, anxiety wasn't the cause of his fingers fidgeting themselves.

Only one more test, then he'll finally become a part of the Emperor's Coven! Not only that, his uncle promised him a special position. 

Drumroll please... the Golden Guard, also known as the right-hand man of the emperor himself. 

For as long as he can remember, he's been waiting for the opportunity to officially be a part of his uncle's coven. He was born to do such a thing—it's in his blood! Only one test is standing between him and that title. So there is no way he will accept failure. 

The moment that thought came to mind, Hunter froze. 

All his previous buzzing, and fidgeting, and kicking halted all at once.

But what if he did fail? He would never let it down. Afterall, he wasn’t sure what was in store for him. What if he wasn’t prepared for it? What if Hunter wasn’t capable? 

Soon, he started falling into a pit of anxiety like all the other occupants of the airship. But unlike them, the blond managed to climb back up the ladder of certainty in a matter of seconds as he shook his head. 

No, he won't fail. He passed all the rest of the challenges, what's one more? 

Plus, he trained hard for this. He prepared himself for this very thing. And it was all thanks to the thoughtful schedule his uncle prepared for him—nearly every hour of the boy's day was filled with private tutor sessions, advanced training lessons in preparation, and even independent study hours in order to maintain the same level of productivity throughout yet still benefited with the opportunity of working in his own pace—his daily meals and sleep schedule were the only instances of when he received a break, of course. He'll get through this. Passing this will finally allow Hunter to repay his uncle for everything the man has done for him—from taking the boy in and raising him as his own. 

Hunter will protect, serve, and stay by the emperor's side for the rest of his life. 

And all he had to do was complete the test.

Despite the concerning expressions on the rest of the coven scout examinees, Hunter was sure the last challenge will be a piece of cake.

Now, if only the boy ever tasted cake.

"Hey, kid. You seem excited." A voice broke through Hunter's thoughts. He stayed silent for a few moments. But when he realized he was the one being spoken to, he looked up to see the ocean-blue gaze of an older teen. The latter had pinkish skin, messy brown hair, and a friendly smile as he looked down at the younger blond. 

This was the moment Hunter once again felt a bit nervous. After all, the boy doesn't remember the last time he had to socialize with someone— let alone talk to anyone besides his uncle and tutors. 

"Y—yeah." Hunter responded with a stutter, feeling the tips of his ears turn a very light shade of pink in embarrassment. He wished that the teen had nothing else to say, but it didn't come true. 

"So, what do you think about the challenges so far?" Hunter felt like this should be his cue to go on a ramble about how easy they were. That he was trained to deal with such tasks, and that his knowledge assisted him in ways more than one. But—

"They… they were okay." He knew that uncle told him to never use his name in vain but—Titan, end him. Up until now, the rest of the recruits ignored him—probably looked at him when he did something quite impressive for his age, but that's about it. Now, he was trying his hardest not to squirm at the fact someone was trying to converse with him. 

The older teen, oblivious to the younger boy's anxiety, looked confused. Then a hint of realization dawned at the former, making him appear sheepish.

"Sorry, forgot my manners for a minute. I'm Steve." The teen said as he gestured to himself with a bright smile. 

The tension on Hunter's shoulders slipped slightly. Be polite , a voice that suspiciously sounded like his uncle appeared in the boy's head like a warning. He was about to introduce himself as well when suddenly, the group's destination came into view. It was a mountain. 

When everyone realized the airship was approaching it; their attention, including Steve's, suddenly redirected themselves to it. Hunter immediately stood up (he pretended not to notice how he was half Steve's current height) and approached the railing. The meekness he felt from his previous interaction vanished as he faced the next challenge with determination plastered on his face. His gaze trailed along the tall landform—it's height couldn’t compare to that of the Knee, but it's still high enough to reach the clouds. What could possibly be their final challenge?

Hunter's curiosity was piqued. 

As the airship descended, Hunter gripped upon the railing. His blond hair, especially his stray strand, flapped a bit from the wind. The closer they got, the harder Hunter's gaze became.

He will prove it.

He's worthy of being the Golden Guard.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter was seen once more, but there were differences to him, appearance-wise. His messy blond hair was now fully covered by the hood of his pure white cloak, the same color of the clouds that he passed through in an airship all those years ago. There was more height to him, but he still needed more growing to do if he wanted his long cape to stop dragging on the stone-cold tiles behind him. 

The Golden Guard quietly sighed as he walked silently, and diligently across the empty halls (aside from the occasional coven scout). His shift was coming to an end, and this could be seen as an opportunity to receive some well-deserved rest, and relieve himself from his duties. Any outsider who took one glance at his features could easily notice the dark eye bags shadowing the blond's determined eyes–he really needed to sleep more. 

But the moment Hunter entered his room, removed his golden mask, and stared at his soft-looking bed; he knew that he wasn't tired at all. Instead;

He was hungry. 

No, not the kind of hunger for food. He already consumed all of his scout rations for the day a few minutes ago.

Hunter was hungry for knowledge, his mind demanding to be satisfied with its curiosity. He couldn't help a small grin as he stared at the worn notebook left on his desk. Two-thirds of the object's pages were filled with slightly messy, but detailed notes about interesting information on wild magic. A topic that Hunter was forbidden from indulging himself with.

The reminder of his (treasonous) actions was pushed to the back of his mind, for he knew that the more knowledge he garnered, the more likely he could help his beloved uncle with his curse. The thought of his only relative suffering through a dreaded illness, caused Hunter to feel an indescribable wave of sadness to wash over him. 

His uncle's curse was getting worse—or the man is just struggling to keep it under control. 

Either way, the curse was really getting hard to ignore. 

Just this afternoon, a recently-caught wild witch was brought before the emperor. She had long red-hair, and was quite feisty.  Her eyes burned like a wildfire, determination shimmering within those flame-like pupils. When she entered the throne room to be trialed, his uncle showed no visible reaction. 

Though Hunter didn't know why, he knew that the emperor's stoic behavior was slightly shattered when the criminal started going out of control, even daring to spit in the emperor's direction. Usually, the emperor was calm and collected during these short trials, but he appeared like he was silently fuming as he ordered for the witch's petrification. 

No one but Hunter saw the emperor keeping his arms tied behind his back, a drop of goo dripping from the man's gloves. 

No one else but Hunter saw how the emperor kept his gaze on the door even when the female witch had already left with the guards. 

The teen sighed as he shook away the memory, opening his little booklet.

After re-organizing his notes during the night before, he reached the portion of his notebook where it's filled with his own theories about certain aspects of wild magic and it's user; like one's full capacity when it comes to their own magical abilities, if there are alternatives to performing magic aside from possessing a bile sac in one's anatomy or using an artificial staff, counter-attacks to specific spells, how to enhance effectiveness in creating a spell that mixes different types of magic, and how to incorporate wild magic in the creation of a successful cure to certain curses. 

By the end of the month, Hunter was going to need a new notebook.

That is, if he managed to discover new information about the concept he was writing about in order to reach the final page. Because at that very moment, he had already written everything he knew. His fingers, now grasping a pen, was itching to write something, yet it had no idea what. 

Hunter groaned as he spared a glance at the books currently at his bookshelf (which was safely hidden from the door, on the other side of his bed). 

He read all of them in the span of a week and a half. He not only had to return them to where he retrieved them from, but he also needed to gain a new set of books for his research. 

Hunter quietly hummed as he gently set his pen down, not willing to ruin the peace of the cold night with even a bit of noise. 

He stood up to get his white cloak, when he realized he was already wearing it; perfect. All he needed was his mask, which he easily fixed upon his face in a practiced motion. 

He then grabbed the pile of books from his shelf, wobbling a bit from the weight before regaining his balance. Hunter contemplated whether he should just walk to the library, or grab his staff and simply teleport his way there.

With the mindset to avoid the risks of getting caught, he balanced the pile of books on one hand and wrapped the other around his staff, and watched as the red gem glow brightly. With a flash of red, Hunter's surroundings went from his messy work desk to rows of wooden shelves filled to the brim with books organized according to category. 

There, he spotted the huge doors to the forbidden section—the library's quarters where wild magic awaited Hunter. He was about to teleport his way in there when a bright book cover caught the corner of his eye. 

The blond walked toward it with intrigue as he used his staff to levitate the book out of his placement, a red hue surrounding the object. ‘ Everything You Need To Know About Birds .’ 

The blond had never encountered this creature up close believe it or not, as he always sees them from a distance. But now that he looked at the bluebird on the cover, he thinks it looks... cute. 

Hunter looked at the cover with wonder, quickly placing the book in the inner pocket of his cloak. 

Unfortunately, birds weren’t his priority. But nothing wrong with keeping the book for another time. With that in mind, he willed his staff to teleport him into the forbidden section. 

With another flash of red, he was in.

The moment the red faded, his vision was suddenly overtaken by the overwhelming sight of glowing green. Before Hunter could comprehend what it was, he blinked, and the green light was gone. The blond blinked rapidly in confusion as he shook his head. 

Maybe, he thought, he should lay off on the coffee for a while. He then placed his pile of books on a table, relieved by the heavy weight, before he approached the nearest bookshelf with excitement as he searched for a book of wild magic.

Unbeknownst to him, a green ghostly figure reappeared at the other side of the library, and promptly narrowed his eyes at the guard's back with caution.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter hissed in pain as he applied more pressure to the blood-stained cloth firmly placed on his left arm, preventing any more blood from spilling out his newly acquired gash. How did he get it? It's simple, really.

After retrieving a few books during the night before, he stayed awake until the break of dawn. The moment the first shine of the sun entered through his bedroom window, Hunter looked at his notes with pride as he succeeded in creating a plausible solution on how to get rid of his uncle's curse. Well... not get rid of, exactly. The most it could do was lessen the effects of this curse upon its victim. Which could still prove to be effective! 

Hunter knew that the supply of palistrom wood was running out by the day, which was why it's inevitable that they would have to switch completely to the alternative of feeding his uncle's... hunger with fully-carved palismen. But even then, the results would be temporary. 

Hunter explored his theory thoroughly, and whatever aspect which still contains minor gaps, the blond was willing to work his way from there. He just needs his uncle's approval of his solution, in order for him to start proper experimentation and get his hands on the materials, and magical ingredients he needed. He just knows that this breakthrough will help his uncle greatly!

But the moment he brought it up, he was shot down immediately. Hunter tried not to wilt as he met the cold, blue gaze of his uncle. 

"Have I not made myself clear that using wild magic is not an option." It was a statement, not a question.

"Y—yes.. but uncle, don't you think that since wild magic caused your curse, shouldn't it be the only way to cure it?"

"Hunter—" The blond continued speaking, which proved to be a mistake.

"So, I believe that I have found a more effective, permanent way to—" 

Hunter cut himself off as a raging hot pain seared through his left arm. 

The root of it being the tendril that shot out of the emperor's hand. The boy kept himself from crying out at the pain, but he still flinched as the man grunted. The emperor was visibly trying to keep his curse under control. 

The guard immediately looked away, and grabbed a small piece of palistrom wood from the nearby, hidden stack of reserves. He tossed it over to his uncle (obviously with his right hand), and tried not to wince at the resounding crack as the palisman's essence escaped its body, practically being inhaled by the emperor. 

As the man returned his gaze back to the blond, the boy bowed down respectfully, and shamefully. 

"M—my apologies, unc—... Emperor Belos." With the sight of his man being irritated, he resorted to using the emperor's title rather than uncle. But the man's gaze traveled to the boy's injured arm, before speaking in a voice that was warm, and sweet. 

"Hunter. You know that it pains me to injure my own nephew in such a way, but it's a chore to prevent this curse from bubbling to the surface. Don't bring this up ever again, so that we'll avoid such casualties."

"...of course, uncle."

So to put it in simpler terms, Hunter spoke out of turn, and because of his stubborn persistence... well. The outcome was obvious. 

He claimed that he wanted to help his uncle, when in the end, he was the one that caused the man's outburst. 

Hunter gritted his teeth as he wrapped his arm in a clean gauze. He shouldn't complain, his uncle must be suffering even more now thanks to him. 

...which was why he would not stop searching for the best cure for his uncle!

He thought as he stood up, and grabbed his staff.

He just needed his uncle to listen to reason. Perhaps tonight wasn't the best time... maybe he should bring it up when the emperor was in a better mood. He's a busy man after all, being in charge of the entirety of the isles, so of course the stress was getting to him. 

Hunter just became another pain on the man's side. 

While the blond would patiently wait for the perfect moment to explain in more detail about his solution, he first needed to cover more ground. Who knows, maybe there's actually an easier solution? Or maybe there's a way to use less wild magic in his present one? The blond formed a shaky grin with newfound determination as he teleported to the library.

His book about birds: forgotten on his work desk.

The moment he teleported directly into the forbidden section, he widened his eyes at the sight of a glowing green person staring straight at him, with emerald eyes wider than the blond's own ruby-colored ones. The moment Hunter blinked, the person disappeared, and the former was left baffled.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

The golden guard quietly sighed. Instantly, he regretted it when his hot breath only increased the warmth he already felt: from both the hood of his cloak and golden-colored mask. Both of which were as tight as the tension in the room. 

Despite the sweat already dripping past his forehead, the golden guard simply maintained his rod-like posture as he stood obediently still right beside his uncle. Both of them listened in on the meeting occurring right in front of them, which involved the rest of the coven-heads. But unlike the emperor who added the occasional input, Hunter remained very silent. He is only here to serve as a supervisor, a guard. Plus, as the right-hand man, it's convenient to be immediately informed of the final decisions and concluded plans once the whole meeting reaches its end. 

At the moment, everyone was discussing the final preparations for a significant event, one out of many that takes place every year. The Covention; where witches alike are given the opportunity to explore the available covens and decide which one they're interested in joining in when they officially graduate from Magic School. Of course, Hunter never saw the need to attend one.  His duties never involved him being present at the Emperor's Coven showcase. But.. the blond would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a bit curious about it.

Since the momentous event was just two months away, and the coven heads were the representatives of the main nine covens, it was highly suggested that they do a quick overview. Perhaps, maybe even add something unique to convince more witches to attend. Which is what led to their latest discussion; deciding whether they should present a few abominations created by none other than Coven Head Darius himself, or allow Coven Head Lilith to make a special appearance during the Emperor's Coven display. (Two of which were very creative suggestions.)

Well… at least, that was the main subject the last time Hunter paid attention. Despite being interested in hearing what they have planned, the blond's usually hyper-focused mindset was distracted by the thought of the weird person—creature? Was it a demon?—he encountered it during the previous night. 

Right after that strange occurrence, he resorted to scouting the entire section twice. Heck, he even checked the whole library. But he didn't find anyone present. At that point, he was about to conclude that it was all in his head. But did he give up searching? Of course not! 

…well, at least, not immediately. Eventually, he began to grow tired at repeatedly teleporting around the whole library. It's also not a good idea to use his staff's magic just to find someone that isn't even there. So, Hunter gathered a few more books (albeit hesitantly), before teleporting back to his room. 

He was a bit annoyed to admit that he was unable to continue his research after that; too busy debating whether or not he was hallucinating. 

Now, he's distracted once more. Every time he attempted to brush it off, his instincts started screaming at him to investigate. Afterall, who knows what danger may bring if Hunter ignored something like that? Wasn’t it suspicious for something or someone to appear in the forbidden section of the private library located within the emperor's castle? 

Then once the Golden Guard caught sight of them (Not even a coven scout nor coven head by the looks of it), they instantly disappeared without a trace? That set a lot of alarm bells in Hunter's mind—to the point he actually held in a wince. 

What could possibly be their purpose of breaking in here, perhaps gathering secretive information on the coven? 

Searching for dirt against the emperor? Harm the inhabitants of the castle? What if it was a wild witch? What if it wasn't a witch at all? 

So many questions, yet the number of conclusions he could create was little to none. He didn’t even have evidence that someone was even in the library aside from a few seconds taken from memory. 

Perhaps he's reading too much into it. The whole vicinity was heavily guarded by well-trained coven scouts. Anyone that was not a part of the coven, and was also not permitted to enter within the premises, couldn’t go in. And they definitely couldn’t go out. 

Maybe the lack of sleep was causing Hunter's mind to create hallucinations. 

Heck, maybe he's getting an increase in his level of paranoia from being in the same room with Kikimora every other day. Titan knew the little hand-demon was starting to get even more irritating by the week. 

Speaking of which, it seems she wasn’t present today. Perhaps his uncle sent her on a mission? If that's the case, why wasn't Hunter sent on a mission? Not that he's criticizing the emperor's decisions, but the blond can accomplish way more tasks in the span of a few hours than whatever a demon half his height can do within a day. 

His uncle of all people should be aware of that.

He thought as he side-glanced at Emperor Belos who was announcing the end of today's meeting–wait what.

The blond widened his eyes when the coven-heads slowly filed themselves out of the throne room. That was when Hunter realized that this library person has occupied his mind for quite a while. 

The blond mentally scolded himself. 

In fact, he would've groaned if it wasn't for the lingering warning that if he created a mistake in his usual silent, arrogant, and cold golden guard demeanor, he would be receiving a dreadful punishment by the end of the day. 

Hunter simply bit his lip, forcing his thoughts to keep themselves from straying, as he remained quiet at the emperor's side.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

It felt like hours had passed. 

Perhaps it's because it's not just a feeling, but was actually the truth.

It's midday and even a ruler needed his lunch break. That included the right-hand man who was currently making his way towards his room. Unlike the rest of the occupants of the castle (excluding his uncle, of course), Hunter didn’t eat at the Dining Hall. Instead, his meal was always delivered to his room, especially during those instances when he's occupied with a task. But this week has been rather slow for him; only having one mission so far (retrieving the palisman that belonged to the wild witch who was petrified a couple days ago. It's been a chore since the little creature tried to escape. 

Hunter thought all animals were aware of the command 'sit' ). 

With that, he didn’t have any assignments to complete aside from the side-task (wild magic research) he had set for himself. A task that he'll do in his room.

Hopefully, he could do it in peace without getting distracted by certain... thoughts. Maybe he could finally create some progress in his research! 

He thought with a satisfied huff, continuing his steady pace as he walked across the hall. The completely empty hall.

..if that's the case, then why did it feel like he wasn’t alone? 

With that feeling springing to action, the guard's train of thoughts screeched to a stop. Through every step he took, Hunter felt a bit warmer. The click of his shoes against the stone tiles sounded louder to his ears as he somehow felt a presence. The guard tried to subtly look behind him, but there was no one there. As he returned his gaze to his front, he still felt it. The presence.

Suddenly, Hunter felt a gaze prickling the back of his neck. With that, the guard immediately whipped around with his staff at the ready; his grip upon it tightening slightly. The red gem on the top glowed a bit as the guard prepared himself to summon a wave of spells.

This was it.

The root of all his distracting thoughts finally decided to come.  

"Show yourself, intruder." 

It felt like a whole minute passed when there was no response. The adrenaline coursing through the Golden Guard's veins slowly diminished through every tense moment. After a while, Hunter finally dropped his fighting stance and sighed in annoyance. He looked one more time at the spot where he aimed the staff, before he turned around and continued his journey to his room. 

The guard was debating if he should just sleep for thirty minutes instead of eating lunch.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Promises were meaningful statements to reassure an individual, and give them the peace of mind. They're an oath to do better in order to avoid unwanted consequences. They were made to keep, not to be broken. After all, what's the point of saying something you won't end up doing? A lie is what it is. Therefore, Hunter apologized to the Titan for going against his word.

He proceeded to get his third cup of coffee.

It's already been a few days since the guard last saw a person enveloped in the familiar glowing green. Therefore, Hunter concluded that all he saw was simply a trickle of light. It was his mind playing tricks on him— either from the sleep deprivation or the traces of magic left on him whenever he spars with a fellow coven member. It couldn't possibly be an actual intruder if all he got was a bad feeling and a hallucination that only lasted for three measly seconds. 

With that, he managed to completely remove the person from his mind as time passed. He proceeded to accomplish each of his tasks with utmost proficiency, and regained complete concentration on his research. 

The latter was why he's here walking through the dim halls with the mindset of grabbing another dose of caffeine. Can't do an all-nighter without a bit of assistance from one of the most helpful beverages known to witch-kind. Unfortunately for Hunter, the only coffee machine in the entire castle is located in the main lounge; which is 10 minutes away from his bedroom. It may be considered a short trip to some, but the dark empty halls during this time make the journey all the more longer (and tiring).

The blond knew he should have teleported back to his room with the coffee machine in his grasp during the first two times he went to the lounge. 

But with the intention of waking himself up from his previously stiff posture, he stood up from his chair and left his artificial staff this time. No teleportation tonight. Exercise is good! He reminded himself as such. 

Earlier, all he heard was the pattern of his own breathing and the scribbling of his pen. Now, the only sounds he heard were the soft clicks of his shoes, and the strong breeze outside—the latter being louder when the guard passed a huge window. His grip on his yellow coffee mug (which he has now filled and emptied twice) faltered every few seconds due to his tired state. Hunter sighed to himself as despite these sounds being present, the quiet of the night didn't rectify his exhaustion. The cape that flowed gently behind him through every swift footstep, Hunter couldn't help but feel his drowsiness drip from his shoulders and slide down the fabric. The blond is tempted to go down along with it.

He really needed to get that coffee. 

Five more (long) minutes passed and he finally reached his destination. When he entered the room, he wasn't surprised that it was empty. And of course, due to there being no people, not all the lights were on. The place was mostly dark—he could barely trace the silhouettes of the tables and chairs—but there was a small lightbulb above the counter that served as a blessed luminary for the tired guard. His gaze immediately followed the source of light, and it shone upon the very solution to his problems; the Coffee Machine. 

The guard instantly crossed over the distance between him and the counter, and placed his mug in its rightful place. As he did so, the angle of light was so perfect that it made the yellow mug appear as if it was a glimmering gold. It even revealed the small little detail on the corner of the object; a cute little feather. He didn't know why but he was drawn to this mug; hence the reason why he always used it whenever he needed coffee.

Hunter couldn't help it when his lips quirked up a small smile. He also couldn't help the undeniable satisfaction that bloomed in him when warm coffee spilled out of the machine, filling up the mug. After a few more moments, he turned the machine off and grabbed the handle of his mug. He put it closer to his face and happily sniffed the addicting aroma of a warm cup of coffee before taking a sip of his coffee. 

He found himself involuntarily humming at the flavor. Could've used more sugar, but it'll do. (Growing up, his uncle always said that too much sweetness wasn't good for him, anyway.) 

With his goal accomplished, he left the room and headed straight back to his room.

Ten more minutes and he can once again meet the sight of his comforting safe space. Hunter took a sip. 

Ten more minutes and he can continue his research. He quietly sipped again. 

Ten more minutes and he's one step closer to helping his uncle! 

Before he could take another sip, he stopped himself. At this rate, he'll drink the whole mug before he even arrives at his room. 

Control yourself, he thought. His eyes narrowed at the cup. He shouldn't give into the sweet temptation of the adrenaline rush he so desperately needed. Not yet. With that, he huffed as he looked at anything but his mug. Out of sight, out of mind.

With that thought, Hunter's gaze remained straight ahead, not at once looking down at the object he's holding. Instead, what he saw was the length of the dim hallway he was trying to cross over. 

(He tried not to feel the longing for his staff.)

A few more moments passed before he heard the gentle breeze from earlier as he once again passed by the window. He looked at it through his peripheral vision, looked ahead, before taking a double-take. He fully turned to face the huge window before feeling a bit of warmth blooming at the sight outside. The sight was, truthfully, like a beautiful painting present for everyone (at least, those who are awake at this late hour) to stop and admire. Only now did Hunter realize that the light present in this portion of the hallway was emitted by the moon. 

He felt a very small smile form on his lips. It wasn't every day that the Golden Guard allowed himself to relax at something so mundane. It's a refresher after everything he's done for the past few years. When he turned away from the window, his soft smile didn't fade. 

Well, that was a good way to distract himself from his mug of coffee. He thought with a barely audible snort as he continued on his quest of returning to his room. 

Despite the resounding calm he felt, he couldn't help but notice a weird buzzing his instincts are making. As if every moment that passes, he could feel dread slowly growing. The moment he realized that this wasn't a good thing, he already turned past a corner. 

It was only through rigorous training, silent awakenings from nightmares, and self-enhancement of pain resistance that he was able to keep himself from screaming when he felt a unique type of pain surrounding his entire body.

That was when everything turned black.

Chapter Text

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙮

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Morro looked down at his hands, the familiarity of the glowing green on his palms taunting him of a form he thought he left behind. His face was blank, and his own soul felt empty; numbness threatening to take over as he was stuck in contemplation.

He felt it. He knew that he did.

He felt complete, utter oblivion—the feeling of nothingness after he was pulled into the sea.

The moment he felt it, he realized it was more than what he expected. It was a feeling he never knew he could crave; the finality of ceasing to be. 

So why did the oblivion leave him?

The destruction of the Cursed Realm was confirmation that he had nowhere to go back to once he died… yet he’s still here. Thinking. Floating. Existing.

That was when the dull feeling disappeared and out of nowhere, panic started clawing against his throat, tearing his previous apathy into shreds as he had a crushing realization.

He wasn’t erased.  

His sacrifice… meant nothing. It meant nothing because he was still here.

Still Morro.

His heart felt heavy as it was suddenly weighed down by an unknown feeling. Panic? Anger? Anguish? He wasn’t sure.

All he knew was that something big and ugly was swirling in his gut and without meaning to, his internal mix of emotions translated into a weak cyclone wrapping around his ghostly figure as he tightened his fists, the sting of pressure doing nothing to calm himself.

(Distantly, he could hear screams so raw that one could practically feel the frustration.

At the back of his mind, he realized the screams were from him.)

Fury started to swell as he couldn’t help but feel bitter at the injustice of it all. A betrayal committed by nothing but the fate that he deserved. At least, a fate he thought that he deserved.

When he was a child, Wu said he was the sweetest person he ever met. It was one of the reasons why the man thought Morro was a worthy candidate for being the Green Ninja; the symbol of goodness.

But in the span of just one week he proved to be a monster.

And monsters don't get second chances, they get eradicated from the living plane. Morro knew that, he bet Destiny knew that as well. And for once, he didn’t refute it.

He let himself be killed. 

Only to what? Be damned to existence again? 

He understood that his life could be viewed as a form of entertainment for some but when could he ever catch a break? When he dies for the third time ?

The wind that just started to surround him diminished instantly. His arms fell weakly to his sides as reality dumped itself onto his shoulders like a freezing bucket of water.

His eyes started to hurt, like a million needles repeatedly stabbing deep into his eye sockets.

A pain he grew accustomed to whenever he had the urge to cry but was physically unable to back when he was a ghost, a lost newcomer in the Cursed Realm. At the time, he was glad that he was physically unable to shed tears. He refused to give anyone the satisfaction of witnessing a breakdown from him.  

But then…

...why could he feel a weird substance leaking from his eyes, dripping down his chin?

With a shaking right hand, he wiped his cheek. When he held his hand right in front of his face, he saw a stray tear sitting innocently on his palm. As he stared intensely at his hand, that’s when he realized it.

Despite his body still being enveloped in a soft green light, he was no longer translucent. 

Absently, he forced his other hand to hold onto his right and FSM he could feel his skin . The thought made him grip it tighter, and beneath the skin he could feel actual bones.

A breathy chuckle escaped him. 

It was then followed by a few moments of disbelieving (almost manic) laughter because how else in Ninjago’s fucking name should he react without destroying the entire place with a tornado? As his laughter grew quiet after a few moments, he realized that his tears never stopped, and that his throat felt like he swallowed sandpaper.

He cursed at his physical body. 

As he forced himself to calm down, he saw a bright flash of red appear in front of him. Keeping in a shocked yelp, he tried turning invisible. For a moment, he thought that he wouldn’t succeed since he was no longer a ghost.

Which was why he was taken off guard when he could no longer see his skin. 

As he blinked rapidly in confusion, he looked up and managed to process a shorter person wearing a white cloak, gold-looking armor, and a bright yellow mask covering the entirety of their face. 

Morro felt his presence of mind return to him slowly, as he willed himself to use his wind to float over to the other side of the room, behind a huge bookshelf. He narrowed his eyes at the figure who looked like he was innocently browsing on the books in front of him. The implication of them not seeing Morro relieved the latter. 

The ghos— boy turned around and faced the wall. He willed himself to become visible once more, and noticed how his glow became a bit dimmer, making his pale skin become more distinct against the haunting green. 

The sight just made him remember why he was distraught prior to the stranger’s sudden appearance.

He felt himself slowly floating down, still not quite believing that he actually felt the cold tiles beneath him. It took him only a few seconds before his mind started going rampant once more.

He died, that’s an irrefutable fact. 

But now he’s here and—

Morro froze.

He had to scratch out his earlier thought because he wasn’t just existing, he was alive.

Okay—he needed to stop panicking. There was another person in the room. If he screamed, he would reveal his presence.

As an attempt to calm down, he took a deep breath.

…then struggled to not choke as he realized that he could breathe . 

While he used his hands to cover his mouth as a futile attempt to conceal the small choking noises, he realized that he was breathing this entire time and he didn’t even notice. 

In the middle of trying to breathe normally again, his brain registered a zapping noise from behind the bookshelf, indicating the leave of the other person. He sighed in relief as he finally managed to get his breathing under control. If he left the breathing thing to his body and did not pay any mind to it, he’ll be fine.

.

.

.

Morro then concluded that the next course of action was to start figuring out where he was before either another crazed laugh or scream would escape him against his will.

At first glance, it was obvious that he was in a library. There were dark-oak bookshelves lining up in an old-fashioned style, consisting of old, dusty-looking books filling up every nook.

Despite being an old library, the place still seemed a bit too fancy and… important. Amidst the towering archways, carvings of grotesque features frames, and tapestries portraying creatures he’d never seen before, he felt something familiar. 

He of all people would recognize the heavy, almost oppressive atmosphere. The stifling aura surrounded the room as if it threatened to suffocate anyone who stepped foot in it.

If this was what the library felt like, Morro could only imagine how the entire place felt. If only he knew what this place even is, let alone what realm he was in.

…he swore to FSM that if he’s still in Ninjago…

The boy closed his eyes before he could spiral again. No, that wouldn’t be a sensible theory. Why would he die only to remain in the same realm? With that small sense of comfort, he opened his eyes once more and looked at his tucked legs. After deep contemplation, he decided to test whether or not his body remembered how to walk.

Slowly, he placed a hand on the closest shelf. Deciding to just get it over with, he immediately stood up—

—and a simple flick of the wrist was the only thing that prevented his face from meeting the floor. He allowed a small wind current to appear to lift his body upright. 

He huffed at the inconvenience. Well, it appeared that he wouldn’t be walking any time soon. It was as if his body experienced a reset and completely forgot how to put one foot in front of the other.

At least he still had one constant in his life: his wind.

Using said element, he floated around the bookshelf and roamed around the entire library. At first, it was justified as an attempt to actually scout the place, but later on, it was his way to get lost in his mind without being stuck in one place for too long.

He couldn’t help it as his mind started concocting countless speculations on the obvious how, why, and where he is . Aside from these theories based on things the raven basically plucked out of thin air, these thoughts were accompanied by the usual intruding ones of what happened before he appeared in this place.

(The water that clogged his brain didn’t wash away unwanted memories.)

When he finally realized that this continuous game of back-and-forth with his own mind led to no result, he stopped on his tracks and forced his train of thought to slow down.

First things first, the most probable cause of his arrival here was the combination of both his death and his wielding of the realm crystal prior to this. After death, he would have been automatically sent to the Departed Realm (or the Cursed Realm, depending on the type of soul he had). 

Though he was always given the impression that the Departed Realm was a place of beauty and serenity; a resting place of tranquility for hurt souls who decided to move on from the life they once knew.

This place both appeared and felt like the complete opposite… 

This couldn’t be the Cursed Realm, either. It lacked the certain… finesse that realm possessed. Besides, he couldn’t ignore the fact that it was impossible for the Cursed Realm to reconstruct itself after its literal annihilation .

...and despite his initial attempt to deny it, he needed to remember that he wasn’t dead anymore. 

So that immediately crossed out both the Cursed and the Departed Realm…

If he considered the realm crystal in this equation, that would mean it—somehow—hindered his journey to the afterlife.  

That would mean he was in any of the other realms that existed. The issue was that he lacked significant knowledge about the other realms. It would have been more helpful if any of the other realms were explored and documented but the only recorded means of transport was the realm crystal and its location wasn’t uncovered until… well.

If his theory was correct, it meant he was back at square one. Morro had the sudden urge to tug his hair. He nearly did just that when he paused.

He stared up at one of the many tall book shelves within the library he first appeared in. This whole place was full of books. The literal containments of knowledge full of words and the welcoming rustic scent of its aging pages. 

They could provide clues of where Morro was. Not only that, they could also possibly provide a way to get out of here—maybe even revert his physical body to that of a ghost’s again; a form that he knew was more fitting for him.

He slowly plucked a book out of one of the bookshelves—trying not to react to the feeling of leather against his fingertips—and looked at the title. ‘The Boiling Isles’. He turned the cover and started reading.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The books Morro came across were trivial. 

The ones he was able to get his hands on were full of intricately-detailed explanations circulating around concepts and elaborations about something called ‘wild magic’, something Morro has never heard of before, obviously. 

Whenever the boy found a book filled with technical terms revolving around wild magic, he couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the subject. But eventually, he would end up putting the book back on the shelf once the amount of ‘magical logic’ started to overwhelm him. 

Though he knew that whatever term was foreign to him—was most likely second-nature to the inhabitants of this realm. 

(Perhaps the glowing red gem he saw from the masked-person's staff was a worthy example of wild magic). 

Despite his initial confusion, he considered trying to uncover books that allowed him to perform this ‘wild magic’ to somehow create a portal or something. The boy felt like he experienced a great break-through, especially when some of them actually made sense to him—before feeling that hope get crushed once he discovered that only ‘witches’ or beings with bile sacks could utilize this magic. 

The disappointment threatened to convert itself to frustration before he refrained from expressing it outwardly. He swore to himself that he’ll try and find an alternative solution later on. But for now, he just wished to be away from that library for a while before he ended up losing something else from his life: his sanity. 

He escaped the confined space of old books and ancient-looking scrolls in favor of escaping to a nearby hallway, connecting to a separate room, that presented a window. A window that revealed the outside world—a world that Morro was unfamiliar with.

But at least he had a name for his present location. 

The Boiling Isles of the Demon Realm.

It was one he had never heard of, so it simply confirmed his earlier suspicion that he was in a new realm. He didn’t know what to do with that information.

As he stared out the window, he ensured that he was hovering the closest to the ceiling so that the occasional individual with a weird guard-like get-up would pass through the corridors without seeing him. Most people didn’t think to look up, after all. 

Morro placed a hand on the glass, contemplating. The world seemed so much brighter beyond the eery walls of this castle, and he couldn’t help but feel the desire to explore it, despite his current predicament. But like a switch of a light, he already made up his mind that he wouldn’t be going out there any time soon. It was a risk to his safety. 

He wasn’t a ghost that could phase through anything anymore, he was a human being and had a beating heart to prove it. He didn’t know what he would have to deal with out there. As of now, it seemed like this castle was the safest place he could be right now. Besides, the Boiling Isles of the Demon Realm didn’t seem like a place he would be willing to explore at the moment.

While he was open to the idea of feeling oblivion once more… he wasn’t keen on actively killing himself after the pain he had to endure during both of his deaths. If there was a way to get to the Departed Realm on his own terms, without needing to suffer through painful means, then he would figure it out on his own. 

With newfound determination, Morro looked down and made sure that no one was around. Once he did, he floated back to the ground and approached a bookshelf he had yet to read through. Right before he could take out a book, he heard a familiar zapping noise.

Quietly, he turned around and felt his eyebrows raise at the sight of the person before him—

—and he realized too late that he hadn't turned invisible yet. Cursing himself, he tried to do so.

It didn’t work. 

Using his wind, he basically flung himself up to the ceiling out of sheer panic, only barely managing to stop his skull from colliding with the stone. 

He quietly floated to the other side of the library before settling down behind a bookshelf out of the other person’s sight. Once he risked a peek, he saw a familiar cloak. But he was surprised that he could finally identify the other person as a male blond, thanks to the notable absence of his mask. 

While Morro initially assumed the other was older, the latter seemed… younger. Aside from his youthful features, he was shorter compared to the raven-haired boy.

When he finally moved on from the other’s general appearance and examined the blond's current expression, Morro felt a rise of amusement. 

The other boy's expression was priceless. His ruby-colored eyes were wide, as if he had just witnessed someone emerging from the deep depths of death (which in this case was accurate). The teen's jaw dropped in shock, and his entire posture was stunned. 

Morro's amusement flickered a bit as his attention almost immediately went to the boy's huge scar on his right cheek, as well as the nick in his left ear. The raven furrowed his brows before shaking his head. 

He'll file that information away for now. 

He thought to himself that he put too much faith in his ninja skills: he needed to lessen the moments of when he became too lost in thought.

The raven cut off his internal musings as he watched the boy shake his head, as if trying to snap himself out of it. The poor boy probably thought he was hallucinating. 

Morro figured that as long as he stayed at the opposite side of the library, he could avoid getting caught for reading the book he was currently fixated on. With that thought, he peeked at the boy once more to be aware of the other’s position. 

That was when Morro caught the expression currently placed on the blond's face. Gone was the previous shocked expression, replaced by intrigue and wonder as he carefully read each title present on each book cover—the books floating through the use of the blond's staff on one hand (the raven couldn't help but be fascinated by the red glow). 

Morro's eyes softened at the sight. 

It reminded him of his interest in reading Wu's old scrolls. He would never forget the pride and shock on the man's face when his younger self ended up reciting everything known about Ninjago's history by heart. Wu was so proud of him—

The ghost shook his head, pushing away the memories. But that was when his mind was instead interrupted by a suggestion he never thought he would consider.

What if he interrogated the guard, instead?

He remained silent, watching the blond slowly walk away, before nearly cackling at the absurd idea.

What a stupid idea! Revealing his presence by asking a kid questions beyond the borders of this realm. Ha!

But then the bubble of laughter died down in his chest when he realized that he couldn’t really figure much out on his own. He didn’t know who the blond was, but they surely knew what this place was. Even if the other may seem a bit young, he must have some level of intelligence judging by how frequently they visited a library full of complex literature. It would be easier for Morro to question a knowledgeable individual instead of going through the whole library from top to bottom.

That was when his gaze was pulled towards the staff the other person held in his palm, as if it was an extension to his arm. He hesitated.

If he was still a ghost, he wouldn’t have had any qualms when it came to taking risks, but even he shouldn’t estimate the capabilities of a child. He of all people should be aware of that. One wrong move and Morro would die by the hands of a kid. 

The thought didn’t sit well with him. He sighed as he made no move to approach the guard.

As the guard disappeared in a flash of red, Morro was left alone once more. 

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

No matter how much he tried to deny he was alive, he couldn’t ignore the aching hunger and unavoidable thirst that he started to experience after the first few nights of his stomach laying empty. Truthfully, he completely forgot the necessities his physical body needed in order to survive. 

This was undeniably not the first time he endured nights of no food during his time of being alive. But it was still an annoying inconvenience that the stomach aches would appear in the middle of him trying to theorize the relation of time pools being a potential means of traveling to a timeline in a separate realm.

(A theory he would have to learn more about at a later time).

Not only that, from his time on the streets, he recalled that one could only survive around three days without water.

It just so happened that he forgot how long he had been here, but judging by his current state, a lot of time had already passed.

The mere thought of consuming the same substance that killed him the second time made him feel like puking out his newly acquired organs. Sadly, he promised to himself that he was not taking the easy (but painful) route to pass on. 

(Besides, it wasn’t good for his pride if he died from thirst of all things.)

Reluctantly dropping the book he was reading, he figured that this was the best time to explore beyond the walls of this library. He looked out at a nearby window, seeing the sun at its highest point.

It was indeed the best time.

While he was at a disadvantage due to his diminishing ability to turn invisible, he had to rely heavily on the fact that most of the guards here never considered looking up. It wasn’t a plan he liked resorting to, but he believed that there may be an instance that he would require his invisibility.

Which was why he felt that while he was still glowing, he should preserve his remaining ghostly abilities as much as possible.

With that, he peeked over the doorway leading to the separate hallway. Once he made sure the coast was clear, he floated through the corridor and felt his mind blank at the sight of a larger library before him.

He was merely in a room of a library this entire time? How big was this place? 

It appeared that there was more knowledge for him to uncover, though maybe he should prioritize the ones in the room first before moving onto the—a quiet growl interrupted his musings. 

He looked down at his stomach. Right; find food and water first, research more later. 

He turned to the side and stuck his ear to the side of the huge doors separating him and the outside of this library. He closed his eyes, allowing his sense of hearing to elevate itself slightly. He had to stay there for a while as he heard footsteps pass by every few moments. 

Once there was complete silence, Morro quietly opened the huge door. Without risking another person to turn around the corner, the boy immediately closed the door once again and floated to the highest ceiling. 

That marked the beginning of his journey in finding a kitchen. 

Since it was midday, he assumed that it was already lunch time for the residents of the place. For a while, he was patiently waiting for the smell of food to overcome his senses. There were a few times he had to pinch his nose in hopes of blocking unfavorable scents whenever a certain guard passed below, their ‘uniform’ covered in dirt and… other substances. 

After what felt like an eternity, Morro finally smelled something that could pass as food.

He expected something delicious but he would take what he could get. Concluding that it was most likely his best chance of finding the kitchen, he turned to the right hallway where the smell originated from. 

He was about to pass a room with an open doorway when he stopped himself. 

He heard talking. 

He subtly peeked through the doorway and saw a huge room lined with dining tables. Idle chatter was occurring right before him, and only then did he manage to process the sight before him.

They appeared like the same ‘guards’ that walked through the corridors, except all of them had their masks and hoods off. Gone was the mysterious, cold aura that Morro grew accustomed to, and instead he saw them peacefully eating their respective meals. Some of them were even smiling amongst their peers.

Some didn’t look like normal creatures… but they were all undeniably alive. 

Morro’s chest tightened as at that very moment, he couldn’t help but feel so out of place. They were all living, breathing, and existing —just like Morro was. But the difference was that the boy already went through literal hell and back. The thought made him feel like an imposter, disguising himself in flesh and bones.

He shook his head, forcing himself to float through the doorway and allow his senses to lead him to the kitchen doors. He purposefully ignored the easy conversations occurring from below.

The moment someone stepped out from the kitchen doors, Morro floated in. 

He watched as a handful of chefs were separated into different stations in order to create their assigned meals. The boy was about to drop down from the ceiling to snatch a random bowl when he stopped himself.

…was that bowl full of… eyeballs ?

Morro grimaced. 

When his gaze quickly swept across the entirety of the table, he realized that all of the bowls contained pasta coated with red sauce and eyes that— one of them fucking blinked.

…and he lost his appetite. 

He felt himself shudder. Maybe he’ll just grab a bottle of water, and starve himself until the third week. Surely proper hydration applied to this foreign realm, right? 

He actually felt a tidal wave of relief wash over him when he saw a lone bottle of water standing beside large pitchers. When he made sure that no one was paying attention, he used the wind to quickly lift the bottle up into his grasp. Before anyone could notice, Morro floated out of the kitchen.

Once again ignoring the residents below, he exited the dining hall. When the normalcy of the dining room vanished, Morro once again felt the suffocating feeling of the long-winding corridors. But he continued floating.

Besides, he was too distracted by the clear substance present within the relatively big plastic bottle he was currently holding.

The same substance that killed him a few days ago. 

He had the sudden urge to chuck the whole thing outside the nearest window but he refrained. After all, would he really throw away the only reward he managed to reap from his quest? If he did, then his time would have been wasted, and he would perish due to dehydration. 

With a quiet sigh, he continued floating his way back to the library. 

After a few minutes, he started to feel dizzy, and slowly felt like his powers were becoming weaker. It felt like a mild chore just to keep himself close to the ceiling.

With slightly blurred vision, he looked at the bottle in his grasp.

Screw it, what type of person was scared of water anyway? 

Just as he was about to twist the cap, he felt his grip on the bottle loosen. Panicked, he felt his strength come back at full force as he used his wind to pick back up the bottle that nearly landed on the ground. 

The ground behind a familiar guard. 

Morro blinked as he stared at the back of the guard walking away. Apparently, it was the wrong move as the guard suddenly whipped around, his staff glowing threateningly as the guard aimed behind him.

“Show yourself, intruder.” 

The raven-haired boy stayed still from his spot above the guard, waiting with bated breath that the latter would move on. After a few moments, the guard let out what seemed like a huff before finally walking away.

Morro stopped himself from sighing in relief in case the guard had a good sense of hearing. 

After waiting for a few more moments, the guard turned around the corner. Taking that as his cue, the raven floated quietly across the corridor, and headed towards the opposite corner.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

His vision was swimming, as if it took a deep dive into the very depths of the sea. The moment Morro re-entered the library, he placed the bottle on a table and purposefully ignored its existence. 

At first, he tried distracting himself by reading more books. But once he realized he couldn’t process any of the text, he resorted to sitting in a dark corner, hugging his knees as he stubbornly refused to pass out.

When he did that, it was still afternoon.

At the moment, the sun had already set.

He stared at the water bottle, standing proud upon the surface of the table opposite to him. With a grunt, he used his remaining energy to will a wind current to carry the bottle over to him. With a full-body shudder, he chugged the water.

It took every bit of his will power to not spit it back out. 

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Morro could swear that even in another realm, every single Cloud Kingdom Writer out there was out to get him—either to make his existence worse or haunt him with every screw-up he committed.

This instance was the latter because—

“ Shit. ”

He mumbled to himself as he looked at the guard, the same one who kept appearing in the library, hovering in the air thanks to the ghost currently keeping the kid floating mid-air and not—you know, breaking his skull open on the stone-cold floor. 

All he wanted to do was try his luck on finding edible food. Since he knew where the kitchen was this time, he figured that it would have been easier to do so. It turned out that a mere bottle of water wasn’t enough to restore his energy entirely, so he had to float lower to preserve his remaining consciousness.

He had to remain more cautious in case of the familiar guards once again performing their night shifts of walking around the eery hallways. Which was why Morro was completely taken off guard when he turned the corner. Instead of colliding with the guard, the boy blinked and found himself staring at white gloves that he was fully aware didn’t belong to him. 

A voice screamed in his head.

In a flash, Morro escaped the guard’s body, and… well. Here they were.

If it wasn’t for the fact he wasn’t supposed to make his presence known to any other residence, he would have screamed in frustration. 

He just possessed another random blond. 

Wonderful. 

It wasn’t even on purpose this time. He didn’t even know he could still possess anyone in this state. He wasn’t a ghost anymore, so how could he still perform the act of possession? Unless that was one of the ghostly abilities that he still had? He looked at his left hand with pursed lips.

...perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t glowing green anymore? 

Possession did require more residual energy compared to simply turning invisible. So that meant any leftover of his green glow vanished, even if it was an accident. 

Which led to him becoming completely human, whatever leftover aspect from his ghostly form diminished. He could actually see the true color of his skin more clearly. The sleeves of his old gi were no longer coated by a haunting green, and instead reverted to its plain design from before he died the first time.

The hand currently keeping the blond afloat twitched slightly, Morro suddenly feeling the urge to trace a thumb over the palm of his left hand, a dark green scar engraved upon it. 

(The same place where Wu attempted to hold onto a few days prior.)

Morro sighed as he looked back at the boy floating in front of him. To create the least noise possible, he had to use his wind to catch the mug of coffee that slipped off the blond’s limp fingers, as well as the golden mask that fell off. The latter action allowed Morro to see the blond’s face longer than a mere glimpse.

FSM, the kid looked smaller, especially with his eyebags. ‘Did he even sleep?’

Morro squinted suspiciously at the unconscious boy as the former remembered how frequently the other visited the library at three-fucking-am. 

‘ Probably not.’

The raven probably did not make it any better since possession usually drains energy from both parties. The reminder of the side-effects made Morro wince, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. He should find a place where the boy could rest comfortably before he regained consciousness. Not only that, he didn’t know how long it would take before someone passed through here.

The only room Morro knew was the library, but it was a bit too far from the corridor in order to risk not getting caught, especially if he had an unconscious blond in tow. 

The thought sparked an idea, before Morro ended up grimacing as his guilt swelled even more. 

Since he was in the boy’s mind for a few moments, he managed to catch a glimpse of the boy’s thoughts. Including the place where the blond guard was originally heading towards, which didn’t seem that far from where they currently were. While it was an invasion of privacy… it would be best for the kid to wake up on his own bed, right? 

As Morro stared at the other boy, the former sighed in resignation. 

Whatever consequence followed this action, he could always blame Destiny. 

Chapter Text

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Suffocation; a fate no one would ever desire to come upon them. The feeling of sinking was a sensation the blond was starting to dislike. Not to mention his current inability to breathe like a normal person when the air around him became a shallow thing. 

It was like the guard was pulled away from his consciousness and was sucked into an abyss of with no visible exit. He wasn’t even exaggerating, for everywhere he looked, all he saw was darkness. He felt a wave of panic as a thought crossed his mind.

…did he just die?   

As if trying to prove him wrong, Hunter’s vision was suddenly bombarded by flashes of weird images; quick glimpses of people he failed to recognize. These appeared to be… memories? But they didn’t seem like there were his memories. Before Hunter could decipher that, they disappeared, and he saw darkness once more. 

That was when thoughts—thoughts that weren’t Hunter’s —started appearing, seeming as panicked as the guard. 

"What the f—"

Hunter felt himself mentally jerk at the swear. It's not like he was sensitive upon hearing those types of curses, but he knew for sure that he wasn't the one who thought that. 

That thought also came with a voice that wasn’t his.

Who are you!? Hunter tried to scream as his voice unnaturally echoed throughout the spacious void.

The tense silence that followed was deafening. Yet despite that, the guard still felt a weird swell of emotions. Shock, rage, and… guilt? Before Hunter could decipher them, he blinked once and he was in the castle halls once more. 

…at least, he could make out the castle halls through all the blurriness in his vision. He distantly felt his body fall to the side before everything turned black. 

But not before he caught a glimpse of green eyes.  

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter groaned. It felt like the weight of an entire basilisk was dropped on him. Judging by how it felt like there were pixies in his head, repeatedly crashing against his skull, he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. Not only that, he felt exhausted . Despite the amount of coffee he drank earlier, it was like the caffeine was thoroughly drained from his system.

What even happened? Hunter just remembered everything turning black… then what?

Immediately, he knew there was something wrong. Despite the protests of his body, he attempted to sit up. To his surprise, something gently shoved him back down. 

(He thought he heard a mumble accompanied by a snarky tone but his hearing was muffled, like he was underwater.)

Due to the push, Hunter landed on a soft, bouncy surface with a mumbled ‘oof’. He paused. This was his bed. How was he on his bed? 

Better yet, what just pushed him? 

Instincts kicking in, his eyes snapped open.

He allowed his vision to adjust, his gaze trailing up clothing consisting of different shades of green. The other also wore a short cloak that reached down to his shoulders. It appeared to be in bad condition, its dirty appearance contrasting heavily with Hunter’s own pristine white cloak.

A grey dragon-like emblem embedded on the side was half-covered by the black cloak. Hunter observed the dark shoulder-length hair, the ends blending in with the cloak. The Golden Guard finally looked at the face and—

—his eyes widened further upon making eye contact with a familiar set of emerald eyes—the same pair he associated with the weird green person in the library. The only difference was that the one in front of him wasn’t glowing green.

But the eyes were unmistakable. 

(Hunter thought there was a hint of concern in the other’s gaze, but the guard concluded that it was his current haze playing tricks on him.)

Besides, whether or not they were the same person, that doesn’t hinder the fact that this stranger was in his bedroom .  

Immediately, Hunter tried to grab his staff—

—which wasn’t by his side. His eyes widened at the realization. A quick glimpse at the person in front of him and their hardened expression made Hunter grit his teeth as he sat up, his fists tightly clenched on both sides of his bed.

“Who are you, and how did I get here?” Hunter made sure that his voice demanded answers. The stranger’s gaze narrowed before responding, his tone cautious. 

“I turned around the corner, bumped into you, then you fainted. I asked one of the passing guards where your room was, then brought you here.” With how sure the person’s answer was, like what happened was the truth, Hunter would’ve believed him. But he had a feeling that wasn’t the whole story. 

Besides, why would he trust the words of a potential threat to the coven? It didn’t help their case that the intruder wasn’t donned in uniform. They didn’t belong here. As if sensing Hunter’s suspicion, the other person simply rolled his eyes.

“Relax, I’m just here to make sure you’re still alive.” His tone was still guarded, but it became more sarcastic compared to his previously stoic one. As he locked eyes with Hunter’s weary ones, the stranger continued. 

“And now that I know that you are, I’ll be on my way—“

“Wait—“ Just as the stranger turned around, Hunter tried to stand up from his bed only to realize his legs felt as tangible as abomination goo. He let out a yelp as his body made contact with the floor, his limbs tangled uselessly in his blanket. He felt his cheeks flare in embarrassment and annoyance when he heard a brief cackle from the stranger. 

Before Hunter could say anything else, he felt his body get lifted from the floor and placed back on his bed. A millisecond after, the door closed shut, leaving the guard alone. 

Hunter held in another yelp when something fell from the ceiling and landed onto his lap. He blinked, realizing that it was his staff. So that was where he hid it . He probably used magic to keep it up there.

Immediately, the blond jumped off of his bed—quickly regaining his balance when he nearly tripped—and burst out of his room with his staff at the ready. As he looked at both ends of the hallways, he saw no stranger.

In the middle of figuring out what he needed to do next, he realized that his face was confined by his golden mask. Panicking at the thought of a coven scout appearing at any moment, Hunter turned around to see that his mask sat beside his abandoned mug of coffee on his desk.

He used his staff to bring the mask to him. As he wore it, he grimaced at the thought of the stranger being the first—aside from his uncle—to see Hunter’s face behind the mask. 

With a scowl, he sat on his staff, the gem of it glowing threateningly. That intruder was not escaping this easily. With that thought, he zoomed across the hallways. 

He purposefully ignored the confused demeanors of the other guards when Hunter flashed past them. He didn’t need to worry about them, why would they question their superior anyway? For all they knew, he was in a rush to accomplish a solo mission. Which was true.

In a matter of a few minutes, he checked every corner of that floor and didn’t even catch a glimpse of the raven-haired intruder. As he zoomed past one room, he paused and did a double-take. He willed his staff to slowly float backwards. As he turned, he was then face-to-face with the familiar double-doors of the library.

If the intruder and the green person were the same person, Hunter would see them here. With that thought in mind, he was in the library's forbidden section within seconds through the use of his trusty staff. 

As the flash of red disappeared from his vision, he was met with the sight of long rows of bookshelves. With an untrained eye, it would have been impossible to notice anything weird, but to Hunter, he easily saw a whip of black hair before it disappeared behind a bookshelf. 

With a huff, the blond teleported behind the bookshelf, only to see no one there. Suspicious, something told him to look up. And he did.

Looking down on him was the same raven-haired intruder that claimed to care whether or not Hunter was still alive after passing out in the corridor.

Said intruder swiftly floated to the side when Hunter aimed a red blast at him. And that was how the game began as the golden guard continuously shot the ceiling as the stranger dodged. The former tried not to show bewilderment that the person showed no difficulty in avoiding Hunter’s precise strikes.

If it were any other witch, the guard would have captured them by now.

With a glare, the blond hopped onto his staff once more and flew up to the ceiling, finally becoming eye-level with the intruder who was previously looking around the room, as if looking for an escape, before noticing Hunter. 

For a few seconds, they just glared at each other, as if daring the other to move. The brief staring contest was broken as the intruder huffed and rolled their eyes—like he was the one seeing this interaction as a thorn on his side.

“Look, let’s just talk about this, alright?”

Hunter’s response was shooting another blast. For once, the intruder didn’t dodge. Instead, he took out a book from behind him and used it as a shield. 

The person let go of the book out of shock as the object was suddenly wrapped in glowing red rope-like restraints. The book landed onto the floor with a resounding thud. Both boys scowled, but for completely different reasons.

Looking up once more, the intruder flicked his wrist. That was the only warning Hunter had before he registered his staff disappearing from beneath him. The next thing he knew, he was falling.

Before he could even gasp, he felt a gentle breeze surround his entire body, keeping him afloat. With wide eyes, he looked up at the intruder again—

—only to see them looking curiously at the staff floating before him. 

“Hey—unhand me! And give that back!” The person’s response was a raised eyebrow.

“Sure blondie, I’ll let you go and gravity will pull you back down like my book. How does that sound?” Was… 

“…are you threatening me?” The person narrowed his gaze.

“It wasn’t a threat, I was just warning you of what would happen if I listened to you.” Hunter’s eye twitched.

“Well I wouldn’t need to worry about that if you didn’t take my staff!”

“I wouldn’t have resorted to taking it if you weren’t trying to capture me!” Hunter scoffed.

“I’m sorry for not trusting some wild witch who just appeared in the emperor’s castle!” The intruder’s nose wrinkled for a split second. Hunter couldn’t tell if it was out of annoyance or confusion.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not a wild witch. ”

“You expect me to believe that? Why else would you be breaking into the emperor’s castle, only for me to catch you in here ? The restricted section of our private library? An area dedicated to secrets of wild magic?”

“I didn’t break in—“

“Unlikely story. Even if you weren’t, then you must be a spy. Perhaps, even a rebel working against the emperor?” Hunter finished suspiciously as he crossed his arms, purposefully ignoring the concerning distance between him and the floor. It wasn’t that hard, especially when the guard watched with just a hint of amusement as the stranger appeared to stop himself from tugging at his hair. 

Instead, the latter pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. 

“Just—let’s get down from here and I’ll explain.” Without giving him the chance to respond, Hunter felt himself slowly drift back down to the ground and watched as the stranger did the same. Surprisingly, they placed the guard back on his feet in a gentle manner. Though that didn’t distract him from noting how the intruder was still floating a few inches from the ground, and that there was a respectable distance between the two of them.

So that Hunter was unable to initiate any surprise physical attacks.

“Give me back my staff.” The intruder merely crossed his arms with a glare.

“Let me explain, first. I can’t guarantee that you wouldn’t interrupt me. Or better yet, you’ll tie me up before I even say anything.” So now the intruder had his only weapon taken hostage. Whatever. The guard had another trick up his sleeve.

Hunter feigned an annoyed scoff as he took a few steps back, his hand hovering near a crafted sigil engraved on the wall beside the doorway. 

Its print may have had faded edges due to it being unused—the castle was known for its tight security, after all, so there was no need for activating it—but there was still magic surrounding it.

The intruder’s gaze flicked towards the sigil, his eyes becoming wary as if only now noticing it. 

“Nothing can justify your unwelcome presence here. Whatever you say, know that one wrong move and every guard will be alerted of your presence here. Then you’ll be brought before the emperor who will provide a punishment he sees fit—and let me make this clear, he is not a merciful man.” 

The intruder scowled before schooling his impression, making it blank. Cold. Hunter didn’t like how despite him having the upper hand, he still felt uneasy.

“Very well. Rest assured, involving the entire cavalry is unnecessary. Just… all I ask is that you keep an open mind as I explain my upbringing.” Hunter stayed silent before placing his free hand on one hip. But his other one never dropped from near the sigil. With a narrowed glare, he responded.

“Fine. Explain.” The intruder hesitated for a brief moment before speaking.

“An incident involving my… soul occurred and I was initially going to be transported to a different realm. Unfortunately, something wrong must have happened and I was brought here instead.” Hunter furrowed his brows, his right hand faltering in the air, an aura of confusion and doubt surrounding him.

“What are you saying?” For the first time, the intruder formed a wry smile.

“I’m saying that I’m in the wrong realm. I don’t belong here . The books here only confirmed it. The Demon Realm; home of the Boiling Isles. While I didn’t know this place existed, I’m certain that I’m not supposed to be here.” The intruder stayed quiet, as if allowing the silence to surround them as Hunter was given the time to process. Which—wow, okay. 

Years ago, the blond would have scoffed at the idea of there being other realms aside from the one he's currently in, but now that he's read every book from the library (excluding the forbidden section, there were still countless books he has yet to read), he knew that the myth of the Human Realm wasn’t just a myth.

And due to the existence of magic, the revelation of being able to travel between realms wasn’t viewed to be impossible. Unbelievable though? Probably. 

But of course, what was truly unbelievable in a place like the Boiling Isles?

When the guard looked back up—he didn’t even realize he looked down deep in thought—the other person took that as his cue for continuing.

“I have been in the library ever since, in hopes of uncovering useful information that could help me get back. Which is why I'm sticking around, whether you permit me to do so or not.” The stranger finished with a determined glare. Hunter remained quiet for a few moments before forming a glare of his own.

“And how do I know you’re not lying? That you’re not merely spouting lies so that I let you go?” The person looked frustrated of still being accused of such.

“Look kid, believe whatever you want. But I didn’t ask to be here. It was out of my control— and because every supreme being out there probably fucking hates me, I was brought here when I should be de—!" the stranger stopped abruptly, as if realizing that he lost his composure. That the cracks in his facade was an embarrassing submission to vulnerability, and all Hunter could feel was shock of witnessing such.

His previous feeling of suspicion was replaced with something else. Pity? Concern? Who knew? What Hunter did know was that this emotion was strong enough that the hand hovering near the alert sigil nearly wavered. 

With a bit of hesitation, the raven looked at Hunter dead in the eye before continuing in a more quiet tone.

“…All I’m saying is that I’m not lying. I won’t hurt anyone. I promise you that. Just… don’t stop me from doing what I need to do, and I won’t be a bother.” The stranger then paused, becoming as still as a statue. For a moment Hunter thought the other person was going to lunge at him. 

What Hunter didn’t expect was a familiar stick-like figure being hurled at him instead. Out of instinct, the blond caught it with both hands right before the glowing gem hit him in the face. He realized it was his staff. 

When he looked up, the person disappeared. 

.

.

.

Hunter had a lot to think about.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

The Golden Guard completed his night shift, which led him to entering his room once more. He sighed in slight exhaustion as he closed the door, twisting the knob, locking it with a resounding click, and subconsciously placing a stack of papers on the top of his work desk. 

Now that there was nothing to distract him from pondering upon the thoughts swirling in the back of his head, he abruptly pushed them to the forefront. He didn’t know what to do about the int—the stranger still in their library. 

One of his first contemplations was whether or not he should inform the emperor. For obvious reasons. Before the blond could even begin to formulate a list of pros and cons in doing so, there was a firm knock on the door. For a second, he was worried that the raven-haired stranger he was previously thinking about materialized outside his bedroom. 

Which was why he was relieved when a coven scout was in front of his door. Hunter silently let out a breath he didn’t know he held in. Without prompting, the coven scout stood at attention and relayed the purpose of their presence.

“Good evening, Golden Guard, sir. The Emperor requested your presence.” 

And with that, Hunter’s relief vanished. He was glad that the uneasiness on his face was concealed by his mask. After all, shouldn’t he be happy that his uncle wanted to see him? He should be thrilled.

“Thank you. If that is all, you may resume your duties.”

“Yes, sir.” The coven scout stepped back, turned around, and marched dutifully towards one end of the hallway. 

Hunter merely sighed, ensured he looked presentable, then stepped out. He closed the door to his room, and walked the other way. The same direction as the throne room. 

As he walked, he couldn’t help but be both curious and fearful of the cause of his uncle’s summons. After all, their previous encounters became stilted after Hunter’s… mistake. 

Of course, the guard had been trying to make up for it by continuing to go above and beyond in his duties but there was still tension between them. Especially after the blond let out an involuntary flinch when his uncle placed a hand on the former’s arm. 

His left one. 

His injury was still undergoing the healing process, but judging by how deep the cut was, it seemed that Hunter was going to add another scar to the list. 

Due to that, his body still tried to avoid his uncle’s touch when said man was the… indirect cause of the injury—and Hunter hated it. He always felt guilty whenever the man’s gaze held disappointment as Hunter accidentally winced away from his touch.

It wasn’t his uncle’s fault for doing it—the curse inflicted on him made him do it, so there was no reason for Hunter to be afraid of him.

He tried to convince himself of that as he stared at the huge doors towering over him. With a deep breath, Hunter straightened his posture and walked in, a resounding echo behind him as the doors closed shut. 

The emperor sat quietly on his throne, watching as the guard walked towards the middle of the room before bowing. 

“Emperor Belos. I believe you have asked for me?” The prompt was immediately followed by an inquiry of this week’s report. Hunter felt his shoulders visibly sag in relief. 

His voice adopted a professional tone as he relayed what he knew; such as the accomplishment of assigned missions this week which included Hunter’s own search of palismen owned by wild witches who didn't deserve them. And despite knowing this was technically Lilith’s job, Hunter still shared a progress report on how the new coven scouts-in-training were faring so far. 

But the blond made sure to keep it brief so that he wouldn’t bore his uncle with the specifics (such as one of them setting someone else’s cape on fire… at least they managed to extinguish the flame before any harm was caused!). 

Afterwards, the room was deathly silent. Hunter patiently waited for his uncle’s dismissal, but the blond only felt more antsy as the minutes ticked by. He gathered every ounce of courage he could muster in order to break the quiet.

“…is there anything else you desire a report on, Emperor Belos? Or perhaps an assignment? I’ll ensure to perform the task to the best of my abilities.” Hunter felt like his slight eagerness would be reprimanded, for such behavior was unbecoming of the Golden Guard known for his stoic nature within the castle halls. Instead, the emperor simply hummed in response. The sound still caused Hunter to stiffen his posture. 

The emperor noticed this as his eyes bore into Hunter’s own.

The silence only grew as the emperor stood up and walked down the staircase that elevated his mighty throne. He stood before the boy who both relished the close proximity with his uncle, and tried not to step back in case… just in case.

Hunter tried not to show his surprise when his uncle removed his mask, revealing the kind face of a righteous man. 

“Hunter, I have noticed that our conversations lately have been quite… stiff. And it has not escaped my attention that this might be caused by the incident a few days prior.” The blond tried not to wince. He always felt like an open book that his uncle could easily read.

“It made me realize that my duties have hindered me from questioning your condition… your wound must already be healing, yes?” This time, Hunter couldn’t hide the fact he was taken aback. The outcome of his uncle’s outbursts and punishments were always swept beneath the rug, their only reminder being that Hunter would do better. Be better. 

“I—yes, uncle. It has been healing quite well.” Hunter’s uncle nodded as he made sure to place his hand on the blond’s right shoulder in comfort.

“I’m glad. You know that your health is one of my top priorities, dear nephew. I believe it is also safe to assume that this minor setback will not affect your performance?” With pure conviction, the guard nodded.

“Yes, uncle.” Belos’ smile was small, yet pleased. 

“I didn’t expect anything less. After all, your body must be already in perfect condition after what you did during the previous night.” 

Hunter’s mental train screeched to a halt. 

Did he know? About the intruder the guard didn’t capture? His failure to avoid their presence in this castle in the first place? That Hunter’s vulnerable body depended on an outsider?

“The scouts weren’t exactly quiet about their confusion upon seeing the Golden Guard speed through every corridor in the early morning. One even claimed how diligent you were by entering the library, supposedly resuming your studies.” The emperor’s gaze then narrowed.

“I don’t suppose you were perhaps indulging yourself in those frivolous books in the… forbidden section, did you? You weren’t tempted by the calls of wild magic again, were you? I do find the timing to be quite… suspicious.” Hunter felt his heart beating out of his chest. 

“Of course not, uncle. I was just...” the blond’s mind went blank. If only he had more time to think in his room before he was forced to revisit this topic on the spot.

Should he inform his uncle about the outsider in their library? The emperor should be the first to know if someone was within his domain after all. And while the stranger reassured Hunter that they would not be harming anyone within the premises, that meant the Golden Guard was depending on the person’s word and his word alone. 

Titan, if this stranger was secretly plotting a grand scheme against the coven, Hunter would have to bear the consequences. Maybe it was best that he did inform the emperor.

…But then that would mean the emperor would question why Hunter failed to capture him in the first place.

Why was Hunter here right now instead of ensuring the person was behind bars?

Why did he let the stranger go? 

That was when a memory of their interaction flashed in Hunter’s mind.

While his instincts as the main protector of the coven are screaming at him that the stranger deceived him, his gut was telling him that there was no trickery present. 

Hunter liked to believe that he was a fairly good judge of character, and he couldn’t help but feel the stranger was genuine. While the stranger’s combined demeanor of both cold and sarcastic made Hunter defensive at first, the blond couldn’t deny the pure aura of desperation surrounding the raven-haired stranger when he insisted that he needed to get back to… wherever he belonged.

The Golden Guard couldn’t imagine how it must feel like to be in another realm, one incomparable to the one he called home.

Zoning back into reality, he suddenly noticed with a mental jolt that impatience started to creep along the face of his uncle. 

Hunter was silent for a second too long. Out of sheer panic, his mouth ran before his thoughts could catch up.

“I was searching for books about the creatures we encountered during our last mission. While I was already familiar with them beforehand, I wanted more information before I start making the detailed report Head Lilith requires from me.” 

It took everything in his power to hold back a stutter. 

Because—well—it wasn’t a lie! Hunter did exactly that! It was just… something he did around an hour before his actual encounter with their unwelcome guest but—!

Oblivious to the blond’s inner dilemma, The emperor scrutinized the former for a few more moments. Hunter tried not to squirm.

“Good.” the older man said as his smile returned, “I’m glad you came to your senses. We don’t want a repeat of last time.” 

Nope, they didn’t. 

“You are dismissed.” The emperor said in a gentle tone as Hunter bowed, more tense than when he first arrived, and exited the throne room. 

Right before the doors closed, Hunter looked over his shoulder. He caught a glimpse of the emperor’s intimidating mask and the blond was close to rushing back in there and spilling the truth.

He didn’t.

Instead, he walked back to his room. 

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

The moment Hunter returned to his room, he buried himself in his duties. Said duties usually didn’t involve documentation, but he (reluctantly) accepted the role of being Lilith's temporary assistant until further notice, due to the amount of paperwork piling up to the height of the ceiling. 

Don't get him wrong, he used to admire the coven head. 

But she hated him. 

So, if Hunter didn’t want her dislike towards him to level up even more, he really needed to accomplish all of this before the next morning.

After hours of paperwork, he barely finished half of it. Upon seeing how dark it was outside, the blond decided to take a break.

Said break was spent by pacing restlessly in his room, his mind trying to think of the next best course of action. After a lot of thinking, only one idea stuck out the most. 

This idea involved talking to the person again.

Hunter sighed as he wore his mask and readied his staff.

( Titan, he can’t believe he even considered this—)

With one red flash, he was in the library. 

Hunter considered yelling out for the other when he realized he never caught his name. Not to mention that would alert the person to the blond’s presence and the former might get the chance to vanish again. 

With that, the guard used his staff to quietly float around the forbidden section. Surprisingly? There was no one there. Hunter exited the room and entered the larger room of the library, full of books that weren’t restricted. 

It didn’t take that long as he realized the person wasn’t browsing through any of the bookshelves at the moment, and was instead looking out the window. Hunter couldn’t see the other’s expression from where he was, so he didn’t know if the person was deep in thought or was actually looking at the view.

“I know you’re there. And whatever you want to say, we’ll talk in the morning.” Ah, the person wasn’t lost in thought then. At least, not to the point that they were oblivious to their surroundings. The person sounded like he wasn’t up for a conversation, but the young guard was determined, so he simply stepped down from his staff. 

The person looked over his shoulder, and Hunter was glad his shock wasn’t seen behind the mask as the former looked thoroughly annoyed. Like he hasn’t been sleeping lately judging by the eyebags. Or maybe the person was hungry. Or both. Something clicked in Hunter’s mind. Has the person been eating? 

Before voicing out his question the person spoke again.

"What part of 'we'll talk in the morning' do you not understand?" The raven scowled; Hunter tried to mirror the former's expression. 

"It’s past midnight. It’s already morning. Besides, you’re not even sleeping yourself, so you can do something with your time by hearing me out instead of brooding at the window." The blonde shot back, the person’s glare grew darker in response.

"I'm not brooding."

"You are." 

"Whatever. You call it brooding, I call it thinking." The raven said, his sharp stare not faltering as he turned around, sat himself at a nearby table with a pile of books, before grabbing an open one. Hunter watched this in silence.

The person looked up with a glare. He looked like he was going to snap before taking a slow, deep breath.

“..Just say whatever it is you wanted to say already.” That snapped Hunter back to reality and he tried to summon enough resolve to voice out his proposal.

"If you find a way to get back to… whatever realm you came from, you will do so, correct?" The guard questioned while the raven nodded.

"Yes, I would. I thought I made that clear." Morro answered simply as he looked away, and flipped another page on his book.

Hunter stepped forward.

"I'll help you." The person blinked owlishly at the response before turning to the blond. The movement was slow as if the raven was stunned.

"Excuse me?" They said in a tone of disbelief. The stance of the guard faltered slightly, reconsidering his choice before he proceeded to speak with more certainty.

"I'll help you find a way back to your respective realm, and—“

“Why would I need your help?” Hunter paused, taken aback that he was cut off. But the person wasn’t done.

“No, what makes you think I want your help? Just last night, you were so suspicious of me just existing. Then suddenly you had a change of heart and decided to take pity on me?” The blond internally seethed, the only thing showing it was through his clenched fists on his sides. 

Was the person serious? Rejecting Hunter’s assistance when at the moment he’s their best bet of getting back to where they came from? Where did all of this defensiveness come from anyway, the person was way calmer during the previous night—

“I don’t pity you.” The words escaped Hunter like he had to force each one out of his mouth. The other person noticed this, making him scoff. But the other looked like he calmed down, just a bit.

“Then why would you help me? As if that would do you any good.” Hunter calmed himself down also as he tried to speak in a level tone.

“Because it is my sworn duty to protect this coven. In helping you, I not only ensure that you have no ill intentions, but I can also help you return to your realm.” The blond waited as the raven merely looked at him, as if studying whether or not Hunter was genuine. The raven must have seen something because he then raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the catch?” 

“Simple. You must not engage in criminal activity; such as eavesdropping on the residents of this building with your… abilities, harming anyone, haunting anyone, and using wild magic. If you commit any of the following, I'll be forced to inform Emperor Belos of your presence in this castle, and you will suffer the consequences which will be decided by the emperor himself; and I will repeat it once more. He is not a merciful man." The raven looked confused before questioning;

"You haven't told the emperor about me?" Hunter hesitated. 

"I… have not. But that will change if you violate the terms of this agreement." The guard said the last part firmly as he held out a hand. Without missing a beat, a hand shook Hunter’s in agreement. 

"I won't." The raven said, and the way he sounded like he meant it, Hunter couldn’t help but hope. The latter nodded right before the other looked back down at his book, most likely resuming his research.

That was when the reality of the situation hit Hunter.

In order for the ghost to return to his own realm, the blond not only had to assist the raven with research, but also share his own knowledge regarding magic usage, magic theories, and—well, anything about magic (excluding the wild kind). 

The blond was a dedicated scholar, yes, and learning everything about magic was a passion of his; but he was rarely given the opportunity to actually discuss them thoroughly (without risking the chance of annoying someone with his rambles).

Now, he not only had the chance to do just that, but also guide an individual home. The blond suddenly felt a bit giddy at the thought of this plan actually being a good idea. 

The blond walked with more confidence as he approached the table, easily putting on his Golden Guard persona as his movements were as smooth as a waltz. 

When Hunter sat down on a seat across from the raven, the latter was already reading a book. The guard looked to his left and saw two different piles of books: one shorter than the other. Hunter assumed that the taller pile consisted of the ones the other has yet to read. 

“So, if I’m going to help, I’m going to have to ask a few questions.” Hunter said, trying not to seem eager.

It's not like he could find a book with a title that says " How To Travel Between Realms: A Beginner's Guide ". He needed a foundation of information before he could start researching topics or creating theories. Besides, this could be an excuse of finally satisfying Hunter’s growing curiosity.

The other person merely blinked.

“You’ll help me… right now ?” The raven expressed his disbelief in his tone. The emotion didn’t disappear from his face when Hunter simply nodded.

“…I’ll be honest. I thought you would immediately go back on your word and I’d never have to see you again.” The other remarked bluntly. Hunter huffed in response. 

“Did you really think so low of me?” The person didn’t respond. He simply allowed his gaze to settle upon the top of Hunter’s… head? Wait —

“I’m not short.” The blond didn’t bother to hide his annoyance in his tone. He wasn’t even that short. Sure, he was still waiting for the time his growth spurt would kick in but he was still of average height. 

“I didn’t say anything.” The other snarked as he simply looked back down on his book. But there was still a hint of mirth on his face as the edge of his lip twitched upward for a quick moment. Hunter tightened his fist before letting out a breath to calm himself.

" As I was saying, I just wanted to ask, was there any… magic in your realm? Or perhaps you saw something before appearing here?" The guard asked. He needed to know exactly what he's looking for. 

The raven thought for a moment before responding.

"Where I'm from, there is an ancient relic called the Realm Crystal. It is a gateway between realms, and I have a feeling it’s the one that brought me here. But the thing is, the user has to will the crystal to open that gate. I never asked for it to do so. Nor did I ever ask it to bring me here. " The other finished as he looked to the side, as if trying to hide his annoyance. Hunter’s interest, on the other hand, was piqued. 

“So you’re saying this crystal brought you here without any warning?”

“Yes.”

“And… where is it now?” Hunter had a feeling that if it was with the raven, the latter would have been gone by now. 

“…before I appeared here, I gave the crystal to someone else. After that, everything turned black, and next thing I knew; I was here.” Hunter’s gaze transferred to the book in his hand, lost in thought. 

“Do… do you think the person you gave it to was the one that activated the crystal?” At that, the other looked surprised. Hunter didn’t let the other have the chance to process it before the former continued to elaborate.

“You said that someone has to… command —sort of—the crystal for the user to be able to traverse between realms. Perhaps the person you gave it to made the crystal bring you here without your knowledge?” The raven appeared like he was contemplating the theory, before looking at Hunter with a raised eyebrow.

“How does someone bring me to another realm without me knowing ?”

“How does a stranger know the whereabouts of my bedroom without me knowing ?” In all honesty, Hunter utilized that as a rebuttal because he didn’t really believe it when the other said he asked another coven scout for directions. Why would a trained scout tell a random person where their superior’s quarters were? 

The other noticeably rolled his eyes at that. 

“Touché.” A few beats of silence. As the stranger started speaking once more, Hunter was disappointed that the raven didn’t say anything else about how they knew where his room was.

“But then… Why did he bring me here specifically? I didn’t even know this realm existed, and I highly doubt he did either—there was limited knowledge on the different types of realms, after all. The realm crystal wasn’t exactly accessible so it’s not like he went exploring while I was gone either.” It seemed like the person mumbled the entire thing to himself, but Hunter heard it all anyway. 

‘What do you mean by ‘gone’?’ Was what he was going to ask, but he didn’t. Instead;

“I don’t know, maybe he didn’t specify where to bring you here exactly ? Maybe just… wherever that wasn’t your realm?” Hunter winced at his choice of words, but he didn’t know how else to say it. 

Surprisingly though, the raven wasn’t offended. 

He even let out a genuine chuckle . 

“That… kind of makes sense. No one knows the exact properties of the crystal after all, so it’s a possibility that as long as there is intent, the crystal would be activated despite there being no specific direction.” Hunter raised an eyebrow. 

“…Should I be concerned about how someone wishing you out of your own realm would make sense?” The raven shrugged.

“I never said everything was peachy-keen right before I ended up here. It was… a lot.” The other turned away before clenching his fists.

“…maybe he did it to make sure I stayed gone.” The blond’s ears flicked as it caught onto the mumble. Hunter’s brows furrowed at the sadness creeping into the raven’s tone. That wasn’t the emotion the Golden Guard expected to hear upon the discovery of someone you hate basically banishing you. 

…probably because the other  didn’t hate the person who brought him here.

The other gave the realm crystal away after all, that portrayed a certain amount of trust. If that trust was earned, and there was ‘a lot’ of things happening from where the raven came from, then that meant— 

“Maybe he wanted to keep you safe.” The raven looked startled as he looked at Hunter with wide eyes—which once again mirrored the latter’s own.

The blond just couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

This time, he stayed silent as he watched a flicker of different emotions passing the person’s face.

Shock. Disbelief. Contemplation. Realization.

Then for the first time, Hunter saw the other smile. It was small, and hesitant, but it was still genuine. 

Hunter could feel the small hint of warmth radiating from it, and yet the only thing that the Golden Guard could feel was longing that someone would feel the same for him. 

(He did everything he could to keep the coven safe from harm. But who kept him safe?

‘Wait—don’t think like that. Uncle did everything to protect me—‘)

“…thank you.“ Hunter was interrupted from his thoughts by two words he never expected would be uttered to him. He blinked as he noticed how it looked like a spark of hope appeared in the other’s eyes. But only for a moment. 

The raven cleared his throat before speaking up again.

“So, returning to the theory… there’s something I may have to bring up though.” 

“And that is?”

“The Realm Crystal creates portals.”

“…and?”

“…I don’t think I was transported through a portal.” Hunter raised an eyebrow, curious.

“You say that as if you went through one a few times beforehand.”  

“That’s because I have. Besides, kid, I’m sure I’ve experienced more than you.” 

“So, what you’re implying is that you’re old?” That question came out of Hunter before he could stop it. Yet he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it, either.

“That’s—“ This time, Hunter couldn’t hold in a grin as the raven looked at the former with a glare. 

“I never said that. I simply said I had more experience than someone like you.” It was Hunter’s turn to glare at the other.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You tell me, blondie.” 

“Yeah—well, that just makes it sound like you don’t have any evidence to back up your statement.” The other raised an eyebrow.

“Grasping at straws now, kid? You’re like, what, ten?”

“I’m fifteen!” The raven furrowed his brows in disbelief.

“…so you’re the same age as me.” Hunter’s brows furrowed also.

“You’re fifteen?” The raven shook his head. Upon noticing the blond’s confused expression, the raven scoffed before clarifying.

“Well, I am, technically. But that’s not the point. You kept making yourself sound like some important guard so I was under the impression that they dumped huge responsibilities on a random child.” Hunter didn’t know whether to glare or deadpan at the response. 

The last part suddenly made something click in the blond’s mind as he jolted upward, standing up from his chair. The other raised an eyebrow. 

Hunter couldn’t stop the pink forming on his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

"Sorry—I'll assist you again tomorrow. I just remembered that I still have a bit of paperwork to get to." The guard said, embarrassed that he forgot to do such a thing while sounding like he was not looking forward to his task. 

"Well, you best get to it then." The person responded, his expression looking amused for a split second. As the raven looked back down at this book, Hunter paused. Noticing that the blond didn’t leave yet, the other person looked back up with a raised eyebrow.

"You never did tell me your name." Hunter said, putting a hand on his hip to feign nonchalance as he twirled his staff with his other hand. The raven watched the staff spin on the blond's hand, expression blank as ever. 

"Well, I don't know yours either. So it's only fair." The person responded with a shrug, which caused Hunter to pause, before the latter sighed.

"You have a point."

A few beats of silence.

Paper rustled as another page was flipped.

Hunter raised an eyebrow. The guard wasn’t one for social cues, but he felt like they were beyond the point of where they introduced themselves to one another… Well—not like he was going to reveal his name to some random person, but Hunter half-expected the former would at least ask him. 

Considering he was helping the person.

“…you’re not going to ask for it?” The raven’s gaze redirected itself at Hunter. 

“For what, exactly?”

“My name?”

“And why would I want to know it?” The other responded in a deadpan tone. (But Hunter could swear to the Titan that there was a hint of a teasing tone in it).

“I—“

“Even if I did, it’s not like you would tell me.”

“…no, I wouldn’t.” Hunter answered honestly. Only the emperor knew his real name. He’s not changing that fact any time soon. The other person didn’t look offended. Instead he rolled his eyes, obviously expecting the answer.

“Exactly. There’s that.” 

Hunter couldn't tell whether he should be glad the other didn’t push or be annoyed by how he was dismissed so easily. Why was he the one brushed off? The stranger was the main beneficiary in this exchange, wasn’t he?

The Golden Guard then realized that the raven was still looking at him, possibly also noticing the blond’s annoyance at something as simple as not knowing the other’s name.  

Hunter fully expected the eye roll that followed. The blond felt like he fully deserved it for once.

What he didn’t expect was the response that followed. 

“Morro. Tell anyone and I’ll break into your room again.” Hunter felt like the threat was serious. Either way, he knew deep down he wasn't planning on telling anyone. 

(…the cause will be dwelled upon another day.)

“Well? Go on then, stop slacking off, blondie.” 

It didn’t escape him that the so-called demand sounded casual, even a bit amused. Hunter blinked. Then huffed. The moment the per— Morro looked back down on his book, the blond vanished in a flash of red. In a blink of an eye, he was back in his bedroom.

For a few moments, Hunter merely stared at the wall.

That interaction went better than he expected. He thought he somehow dreamt it for a second. Maybe the raven wasn’t that bad… Hunter will just hope that the other truly did not have any bad intentions. The blond offered his aid after all, and will continue to do so; the other was now obligated to uphold his end of the bargain. 

Hunter sighed, finally redirecting his focus to the paperwork on his desk. 

It took the blond half an hour to realize that he never inquired about whether or not Morro has eaten anything since he got here.

He’ll ask the next time he saw him.

Maybe once the other was in a better mood, the blond could also interrogate Morro on how he knew the whereabouts of his bedroom.

Chapter Text

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙮

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Morro looked out the window in deep contemplation, admiring the large sea of stars once more. He had been doing that a lot, recently. If he was in a better mood he would have mentally traced every single detail, both big and small, as a gentle reminder to himself that such beauty was real. 

(That not every realm had a stuffy atmosphere mixing between colors of misty green and eery black.)

But this time, only half of him was genuinely paying attention to the scenery. This half was trying too hard to wash over the larger sea of emotions currently ravaging inside him. 

For once, he was going to swallow his pride and admit to himself that he was tired. Really tired. 

(Morro started to regret leaving the blond’s cup of caffeine on their desk when the latter passed out. The raven had a feeling that he needed it more.)

After remaining awake during the first thirty hours of his stay here, he eventually succumbed to slumber. Unlike how he felt when he died, it wasn’t peaceful. 

He dreamt of horrified shrieks when he dropped Lloyd off of the ledge in the caverns. In this version, there was no gushing water to cushion the fall. The screams went silent.

He dreamt of succeeding when he attempted to stab the annoying red ninja with a sword; blood mixing together with the dark fabric wrapped around the brunet’s torso.

He dreamt of Wu smiling in pure relief when Morro died the second time, the latter’s hand reaching out towards thin air in desperation, with nothing warm to latch onto.

Just because he was in a new realm didn't mean his own mind wouldn't torment him with his mistakes in the previous realm from time to time. But the nightmares did it in a vivid manner: where every thought, regret, and what-if were combined into something worse.

When he woke up, one corner of the library was in shambles as books were scattered around the table which he deemed as his research area. Not only that, he felt even more tired. Which was most likely due to his subconscious use of his element. Since then, he avoided sleep like the plague. 

(There were a couple instances where his body would still doze off against his will, but Morro opted to forget about those moments.) 

Which—okay, he admitted it was an action stemming from both cowardice and stupidity knowing that he was adding sleep deprivation on top of his already growing issues like starvation and thirst. 

Speaking of the latter, Morro still had no luck with finding edible food—he shuddered at the reminder of seeing a pie with tiny creatures baked into the crust . It was unfortunate that he ended up in a realm where the delicacies didn’t align with foods his body can safely digest but until the raven could find some that did, he’ll manage. 

As for water… well, at least he no longer found the sight of it as revolting as the first time. 

Morro thought as he eyed the empty water bottles carelessly thrown against the wall before looking back at the window. While he wasn’t convinced that he was drinking the ideal amount of water, he didn’t really care—as long as the world didn’t feel like it was spinning mercilessly, he’ll be fine.

Though perhaps he should do another hunt for food and water. Maybe this time he would be lucky in searching for food. Aside from that, he already ran out of water from the supply run he took from the kitchen after he had spoken to the blond guard.

The recollection of their encounter made Morro wince. 

That was another factor of his current exhaustion. 

Who knew conversing with another person would take such a toll on him? Nothing else could confirm his preference of keeping to himself most of the time.

It didn’t help that Morro felt immense guilt for accidentally possessing the other, that he even stayed in their bedroom to ensure that they were truly alright, only for the blond to become defensive immediately… which was completely fair. 

Though the raven took it as a sign of mercy when the blond didn’t question him about what happened during the possession. Morro suspected that the other didn’t remember much from it, especially when the possession was an unforeseen accident. Not to mention that it barely lasted a minute. While the raven knew the memory would resurface after a bit of time, he took it in stride.

But then the other followed Morro in the library and forced him to dodge red blasts. If he was still a ghost he would have just disappeared into thin air and floated to the other side of the building in a matter of minutes just to avoid the blond. Sadly, the odds were not in his favor. 

Obviously, Morro dealt it with the same grace and poise he picked up from his old training. But that didn’t mean his vision didn’t blur further through every twist and turn. Which was why he begrudgingly resorted to communication, pushing most of the truth out of his mouth when the guard ultimately backed the raven into a metaphorical corner.

(He had encountered brief mentions regarding sigils and weird symbols in some of the books. Now that the blond gave him a vague idea of what they could do, Morro added it immediately to his list of possible solutions.)

While the raven would have preferred if he didn’t lose his composure, he had a feeling that—no matter how much he hated it—the crack of vulnerability was the main selling point in proving that he was being genuine. 

Afterwards, when the blond left, Morro waited for a while before he set out in his search for water once more. 

This time, he ensured that his powers would cooperate with him. While the escapade was successful, the supply barely lasted him a day. It was predictable—but it was still annoying.

Speaking of annoying, Morro’s instincts snapped back into reality and zoned into a presence standing right behind him. There was no doubt who it was. 

The raven knew that the blond was most likely not satisfied with their exchange during the night before, but FSM, Morro was not in the mood.

He kept in a sigh.

“I know you’re there. And whatever you want to say, we’ll talk in the morning.”

Morro was completely offended when his internal musings were described as ‘brooding’. That just made him sound like a wet cat of a teenager who didn’t get his way. The depiction made him feel immature when he knew he had every right for feeling this way.

Whatever, the guard was lucky that Morro was not willing to waste his energy on petty arguments so he took a deep breath and decided to hear the other out.

Said decision was thrown out the window in a matter of seconds because he would much prefer not to drag someone into his business when it was clear that the other had other responsibilities to be concerned about. 

Not to mention that the other was still unaware of the fact that Morro possessed him. 

The blond would probably dump this mindset of his willingness to help when he discovers the raven’s mistake and why exactly the former fainted. 

But after hearing the other’s reasoning for why they wanted to help, Morro’s resolve deflated. 

As the other laid out the terms of their agreement, the raven fell quiet as he watched stubborn determination radiating from the person before him. It made him feel like he saw this before, but he wasn’t certain where. Despite this, Morro knew one thing. 

There was no use in trying to change the other’s mind. 

Besides, did Morro not mention that he was tired? Acting defensive for a few moments already depleted a lot of his energy. Besides, he’d be perceived as a complete idiot if he turned down help from a willing source.

And the guard was willing alright. He seemed genuinely interested that he even decided to help at that very moment . 

Morro wasn’t complaining. 

But what really surprised him was that the conversation wasn’t as draining as he thought it was going to be. It was different. In the previous night, their exchange felt like two swords clashing against one another. Now it felt a bit too... civil. Or perhaps casual was the right word? 

Morro was going to blame his calmer demeanor on his exhaustion, but he couldn’t deny how enlightened he was when a new perspective shared their own ideas regarding his situation. Specifically, what led to it. 

The raven was dead-set on figuring out a way out, that he didn’t really put that much thought into the specifics of how he arrived in this realm. He hoped that the guard understood that Morro’s lack of snark was a sign of the latter’s appreciation. 

While the theory didn’t seem of much use at the moment, since they didn’t have the crystal with them, it did give Morro renewed hope. Hope on how Wu felt towards the raven. Most of the raven’s doubts were overridden by the thought of the older man doing another act that proved he still cared for his first pupil.  

Morro was forced to get more water after the guard left.

He needed to replace what he lost from his tears.

It wasn’t until later on that he realized he told the other his name. For some reason it didn't bother him as much as it should have. While it may not be the smartest decision in case the guard decided to go back on his word and inform the emperor of his identity, Morro had an inkling of a feeling that the blond wasn’t the type to do so.

Besides, it wasn’t fair that Morro knew of the other’s name simply because of an accidental possession. 

The thought made him wince. Well, maybe he can admit that sharing his own name stemmed from the guilt of knowing the blond’s without the latter being aware of it. 

Possessing someone meant that he had access to the… victim’s memories. Since Morro was taken by surprise, the memories weren’t filtered to provide specific information as it only provided brief recollections of thoughts the person had right before the possession. These included something about duties, the destination of where he was going—which was his bedroom—, and of course, his name.

Hunter.

If only Morro learned of it from the guard himself.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

While Morro loved reading historical scrolls, he had forgotten his childish passion to write as well. 

He remembered composing short poems about the breeze and how strong he felt whenever he wielded his wind. He also recalled creating short stories about slaying dragons and fighting monstrous embodiments of evil before sharing them excitedly to an amused Wu.

Though those good times were overshadowed by instances of when he wrote meticulously on random pieces of parchment just to note his strengths and weaknesses when it came to utilizing his elemental power. Those late nights when he was taunted by the mistakes he committed during training earlier that day, where he would end up reflecting on what he did wrong before writing down specific suggestions on how to improve his fighting techniques. Either if he used a weapon (a sword or a dagger, more preferably), his elemental power, or his fists alone.

The raven shook away his train of thoughts. All of that thinking and remembering made his brain hurt. The main takeaway was that before, he wrote a lot.

Which was why it was disappointing that there was not a single pen in this library. It would have been useful to note down what he had learned so far, but it seemed that he had no choice but to engrave the list in his brain instead. 

He resisted the urge to bang his head against the table in frustration, knowing that it would only worsen his growing headache.

Morro merely huffed as he imagined a pen, carefully writing words on a mental piece of paper.

Possible Ways to Get to—

Morro paused, his mind swimming endlessly as he tried to piece his drifting thoughts together. Where was he planning to return to again? This whole time he was concentrating on finding a way out that his main target of where exactly he was going to go, slipped away from him. 

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— 

That realm was better off without him.

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— 

Morro grimaced. There was no way he was returning to the hellhole. If it still even existed. 

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— Departed Realm: 

A few moments of contemplation before the raven shrugged to himself. That was the initial goal wasn’t it? He wanted to escape to the abyss but he wasn’t sure where exactly that place was. And he had a feeling that even magic requires a specific location. So the safest bet was that his soul was originally heading towards the Departed Realm before it got redirected to the Demon Realm instead. 

If his journey was abruptly cut off, might as well aim for the final destination. 

As he forced himself to focus, his mind suddenly felt clearer. Then he remembered that he had already thought of this a couple nights before, his cheeks reddening slightly at forgetting such important information. Perhaps he really did need to note everything down. 

Or maybe he needed the resources for his brain to function properly, but whatever. He waved the thought away as he continued mentally writing his list.

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— Departed Realm: 

• Kill Yourse—

He paused.

Hm. 

Morro had already expressed his dislike towards that idea yet his own mind still managed to bring the suggestion to the very forefront. While it would most likely be the quickest way to get to the Departed Realm,  the thought of doing such an act still felt wrong . 

It made him feel like he was back on the streets, so undeniably weak that there were countless instances that a young boy like him felt whispers late at night tempting him to just end it. 

To purposefully let himself starve instead of resorting to either begging or stealing food from strangers. 

To let himself get cold at night instead of desperately seeking out a warmer alleyway. 

To stab his pale skin against a suspiciously rusty piece of metal laying innocently against the dumpsters.

But he never gave in. It felt like he was giving up somehow. He didn’t do it then. And he wouldn’t be doing it any time soon.

Ninja never quit.

Morro pursed his lips as he mentally crossed the idea out. Like what he told himself all those nights ago, he’ll find another way or he’ll die trying. 

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— Departed Realm: 

• Kill Yourse—

• Potion

• Allows the User to Teleport to Desired Realm

• Open a Portal

While only witches with bile sacks were capable of performing magic, he learned that there were different classifications of magic. One of them being potion-making, and it appeared to be one of the types of magic—if not the only—one can use without needing a bile sac. 

Though that may require an extensive amount of research since Morro would need to learn about the ingredients needed for a standard potion. Aside from that, he wasn’t sure if realm travel was already invented in this place, so there was the slightest possibility that the raven would have to start from scratch. Perhaps he could bring this list up with the blond guard once— if he comes back.

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— Departed Realm: 

• Kill Yourse—

• Potion

• Allows the User to Teleport to Desired Realm

• Open a Portal

• Sigil

• Open a Gateway once Activated

The idea of using magical sigils came to him when the blond threatened to summon the other guards. It made Morro wonder the potential usage of other sigils, as he reflected upon the importance of every intricate line engraved within the symbol. 

Unfortunately, similar to his stand with potions, he would have to start from scratch in order to understand the engravings and what type of material he would need to carve the symbols. And once again, that would mean Morro would have to rely on Hunter for assistance.

Possible Ways to Get to Ninjag— Cursed Re— Departed Realm: 

• Kill Yourse—

• Potion

• Allows the User to Teleport to Desired Realm

• Open a Portal

• Sigil

• Open a Gateway once Activated

• Wild Magic

Morro tapped a small rhythm on the table using his pointer finger, curious on why the guard forbade him from indulging in wild magic. That information on such magic was located in the restricted area (the small section of the library where the raven first arrived in), apparently. It didn’t seem dangerous on the surface, it had so much potential in various fields if used wisely, but it wasn’t like the raven had any say about it when he never even witnessed a demonstration of it before. 

Judging by Hunter’s strong aversion towards wild magic and ‘wild witches’, Morro also decided to cross out his initial assumption that the guard’s staff was a sample product of wild magic. Why would he utilize something he hated? 

Morro then squinted suspiciously at a random speck of dust as his finger stopped tapping on the table.

…if the guard hated it so much why did he keep coming back? 

There was no denying the pure joy Morro saw the other night, when the blond failed to bring his mask and revealed his enamored expression towards such knowledge on wild magic. 

So why would—

Morro’s thoughts were interrupted by a small rumble.

His cheeks flushed as he placed a hand on his stomach. That was the third time that hour. 

He groaned. 

Looking out the window, he realized how dark it was. 

If one’s lack of self-preservation was an illness, would a bad sense of time be a symptom? 

He could have sworn that the last time he checked, the sun was still at its highest point. Morro shook his head to snap himself out of it, before immediately regretting it as his vision blurred. He waited for a few moments. 

For once, the black spots were multiplying instead of disappearing. 

Shit . Water wasn’t going to cut it. He needed food. With a shaky flick of a wrist, he felt his wind attempt to lift him before it faltered mid-way. 

Good news, he successfully landed on his feet.

Bad news, desperate for a sense of normalcy, he was heavily reliant on his powers when it came to moving from one place to another.

So he neglected to remind his body how to walk. Or stand.

He had a few seconds to process before his knees threatened to buckle. Morro choked a gasp as his one hand gripped upon the edge of the table and—

—turns out it wasn’t the table. He yelped as the book he tried grabbing onto failed to support his balance, resulting in both the boy and the object to lay sprawled on the floor. While the book was open, its pages exposed to the stone-cold floor, Morro was flat on his back. His face perfectly replicated the expression of a teenager who was done with the world. 

Said world started to look normal again, but the raven still had to summon energy just to use a bit of wind to lift himself back to his chair. So he stayed on the floor.

And because the guard had impeccable timing as always, he appeared right in front of the raven. 

It took the blond a short while to figure out where Morro was. But the moment the former locked onto the figure on the floor, he decidedly could not look away. 

Though the guard did radiate a concerned demeanor as one hand scratched the back of his neck, while the other twitched from its hold on his staff. 

“…the fuck you looking at, blondie?” Morro couldn’t help but question. Despite the mask, the raven still felt the gaze burning through it. Meaning that the other simply looked down at him, not even making a move to help the raven up. (While Morro wouldn’t have accepted it, it was the thought that mattered.)

Hunter paused, before grumbling to himself words that Morro failed to catch. 

Though the latter had a feeling it was a jab at his intelligence.

Adding more volume to his voice, the guard finally questioned hesitantly;

“Are… are you okay?”

Without bothering to sit up, Morro held up a finger.

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

Morro was not the most polite person, he himself was well aware of that fact. He knew what manners were, he literally lived under the same roof as Wu, but he usually did not have the energy to use them. Especially now.

Which was why Morro wasn’t surprised nor offended that Hunter seemed to be ignoring him on purpose after the raven—admittedly—gave a rude gesture in response to a question asked out of concern. Though Morro felt like his charming personality wasn’t the only cause of the blond’s behavior. 

Before he could question it, the blond held up his staff. Morro winced and subtly moved his chair away as the gem glowed bright for a few seconds—internally hoping this wasn’t a sudden attack—before something appeared in the blond’s hand. 

It was a bowl of blueberries, but the top of each one had a weird shine that made Morro think it wasn’t a normal type of berry. 

“Fickleberries.” The guard mumbled before looking away. Morro blinked at the food offering.

“How did you know?” The blond looked back and responded with confusion.

“Why would I not know a fruit native to the Isles?” Morro didn’t know whether to deadpan or feel amused at the hint of sarcasm in the other’s tone .

“ No , I mean how did you know that I was—“ a rumble interrupted him and the raven groaned, internally cursing his stomach. He glared as Hunter hid a poorly disguised chuckle beneath a fake cough.

“Well, I didn’t expect that you left the library much in order to get yourself food.” Morro raised an eyebrow before responding. 

“Of course, I tried to find food for myself. They just didn’t look particularly… edible.” Hunter paused for a few moments—probably suspicious of the implications that the raven had snuck around more than once—before nodding in understanding.

“I expected that you don’t have the stomach to digest most of our foods here, considering that you implied you’re not a witch, but I managed to find some that you may be able to eat.” The blond hesitated for a few moments before continuing. 

“Though I apologize in advance if I’m wrong since this is based on what I heard on myths about humans—and I’m not sure if it applies to your species as well.” The whole time the guard was speaking, Morro stared at the bowl of berries, his stomach threatening to grumble once more at even the sight of them. But when he heard the last part, he looked up at the guard, confused.

“…but I’m also a human?” Another pause, but this one lasted longer. Morro was unable to gauge the other’s reaction due to the mask but the former could practically hear the gears turning in the other’s head. 

“But… then how are you able to fly?” Morro blinked. He resisted the urge to facepalm. He understood the other’s confusion. The raven did confirm that there wasn’t any magic nor witches in Ninjago during their meeting the night before. Maybe he should have just agreed with the assumption that he wasn’t a human so that he didn’t have to explain. 

…he could deflect the question. 

But even he lacked the energy to continue his streak of assholery. Who was he to deprive the other of answers when the latter failed to mask his child-like curiosity within just one question? 

Besides, if Morro answered a few questions, then it was only fair for him to ask for first-hand information about the Demon Realm in return. 

(Including the place that the raven unknowingly trespassed—because how the fuck was he supposed to know that the crystal spat him into a castle?)

“…where I came from, there is a group of people who were chosen to wield the abilities of their assigned element. These people are called elemental masters. I am the Elemental Master of Wind.” Morro couldn’t help but let a bit of pride creep into his tone at the end. 

While he would much prefer to demonstrate his abilities with a bit more flair, he was still well aware that he shouldn’t overdo his elemental usage. So instead, he simply plucked the bowl of berries from the guard’s hand using his wind, and gently placed it in front of him. 

Morro picked up one fickleberry and reluctantly put the whole thing in his mouth. 

The sudden burst of flavor threatened him to spit it out as his tongue was overwhelmed by sweetness. He allowed his taste buds to adjust before he slowly chewed the fruit. Not bad. 

He swallowed, before realizing that was the first thing he ate after what felt like months.

The guard appeared to have processed what Morro said as the former finally spoke. 

“Huh… I didn’t know humans had such abilities of their own. Are the inhabitants of the Human Realm aware of the existence of… elemental masters?” The guard questioned, his mouth slowly uttering the last two words as he tried to get used to the unfamiliarity. Morro caught on to that, but his attention was drawn elsewhere. He tilted his head. 

“I am not from the Human Realm.” The guard paused once more. The raven suddenly felt amused that he had managed to catch the other off guard more than twice in a short amount of time.

“Oh… I had assumed that all humans reside in the Human Realm.” Morro tapped a finger to his chin, thinking. Even he was a bit surprised that there was a realm completely dedicated to just humans but he didn’t show it.

“What realm are you from, then?” Morro expected the question, but he couldn’t help the bile that suddenly threatened to escape his mouth. He swallowed for a second; before clearing his throat. 

“Ninjago.” Morro forced the word out before eating another berry to get rid of the sudden bad taste in his mouth. Would it still be named Ninjago if the Preeminent cursed it and succeeded in her goal?

If Morro had succeeded in helping her?

Morro squashed down those thoughts as the guard merely hummed in response, most likely debating to himself whether or not he should resume his questioning. The former was confused on why the other would even hesitate. 

(Perhaps Morro didn’t realize that he wasn’t as good at hiding his discomfort as he thought he was.)

In the silence, Morro picked up another berry and ate it. He blinked. This berry tasted sour. Not to the point that the raven would scrunch up his nose but it brought a bit more excitement to his taste buds. He looked down, and realized that every berry in the bowl was light green. 

“…weren’t these just blue a second ago?” Was he seeing shit or what? The guard looked up, interrupted from thoughts of his own.

“There’s a reason they’re called Fickleberries. You never know what color or flavor they’ll have next. It usually happens every five minutes.” Morro blinked before plopping another one into his mouth. He much preferred this flavor. 

…but why did it have to be green —?

Morro mentally kicked the thought out before forcing himself to speak.

“Well, I should have suspected that even berries are unusual in this realm.” Morro looked at the guard’s mask and the former hoped that he managed to make eye contact. 

“Speaking of which, can I ask about your realm now?” The raven felt that it was the wrong thing to ask judging by how the guard’s shoulders became tense.

“…why do you want to know?” Morro shrugged.

“Just because I’m isolated in a library doesn’t mean I know how to navigate the information here. Like, what system do you guys have in the Demon Realm? You mentioned an emperor?” Morro ate another berry as the guard’s shoulders relaxed. The former assumed the other must have immediately jumped to the worst conclusion imaginable—like Morro asking what his weaknesses were or whatever. Said raven held in the urge to scoff.

Why would he directly ask someone what their weaknesses were? That would just draw suspicion. If the person was as defensive as blondie, then Morro wouldn’t even get answers without a blast to the head.

He snapped out of his thoughts as the guard spoke, adopting a tone mixed with pride and awe.

“Years ago, wild magic was used freely. This was known as the Savage Ages, a time of chaos and disorder. Emperor Belos appeared and enlightened the people of how we have been using magic all wrong. He showed us the error of our ways and created the coven system, where magic is divided into separate covens. There are hundreds , but there are nine main ones. Like Potions, Abominations—and of course the Emperor’s Coven! I’m actually the youngest recruit, and—“

The guard cut himself off abruptly as his mask tilted toward the raven’s direction, as if surprised that he wasn’t interrupted all throughout— especially when his tone went from slightly professional to enthusiastic.

(Beneath the mask, Hunter blushed embarrassingly.)

Unbeknownst to Morro, he did the correct response as he merely hummed in intrigue with no judgment. 

He didn’t expect such a detailed answer, considering that he himself only shared one-sentence responses but he was interested all the same.

So to simplify, this realm had a monarchy in place with Emperor Belos at the head. Apparently, he rules over the entirety of the isles. This fact heavily contrasted Ninjago since each location had its own government in place, whether it was a monarchy or a democratic one (this assumption was only solidified during Morro’s last ‘visit’).  

Upon being informed of magic being divided into separate categories or covens, it now made sense to Morro that the guard was against—or at least, claimed to be against—the idea of wild magic since the latter seemed to be full of freedom and unpredictability. It was like the covens were viewed as careers in a way, jobs serving as specific specializations for different witches.

That’s when the last part caught up to Morro and it raised another question.

“What is your role here?” A beat of silence. 

“I… have not told you who I am?”

“I wouldn’t ask if you did.” Morro deadpanned. Another short pause occurred before the guard seemingly puffed up his chest, as if trying to make himself look more powerful and intimidating.

Morro watched with a blank expression, but it didn’t deter the guard’s attempt to appear more put together, even fixing the mask covering his face and dusting off his cape.

“I’m the Golden Guard, right-hand man of the emperor.” The raven raised his eyebrows in surprise. Well, that was a higher position than Morro expected. 

Everything clicked into place then; the guard’s defensiveness and determination to uphold what he deemed best for a person of his position. Though the raven’s first opinion on how someone of the guard’s age was trusted with such ranking in their hierarchy (no doubt second to the emperor himself) was disbelief, it was immediately pushed aside when Morro remembered him being entrusted with the title of Ghost General, her right-hand man.

It felt like a lifetime ago, when his sheer rage and desperation were weaponized in such a way.

He thought to himself that hopefully the guard wasn’t a victim of the same thing.

His next thought was questioning himself why he would care.

“So, I assume the Fickleberries are to your liking?” Morro blinked slowly at the guard who finally spoke before the former realized that this entire time he had been subconsciously devouring the berries in the bowl. Upon peeking at its contents, he realized that it only had one left. 

 “I… yes, thank you.” The raven’s stomach felt less empty for once. While he knew the berries weren’t going to cut it, it was a start. 

The Golden Guard cleared his throat. 

“I’m glad. I’ll see to it that I bring you some food more frequently.” Morro narrowed his gaze at the other, uttering a familiar question. 

“Why?” This time, there was no hesitation in the guard’s answer.

“How am I supposed to help you back to your realm if you starve yourself?—“ hey, it wasn’t like Morro did it on purpose! “—Besides, it’s not really noticeable with your black cloak but you seem too… thin.” 

The raven shrugged. “Thanks.” 

Hunter deadpanned.

“I’m serious.” 

“Well so am I.” 

“You’re insufferable.” Morro allowed a ghost of a smirk appear on his face.

“I try.” The guard huffed. Silence followed, but it seemed less tense as Morro ate the last berry. He didn’t feel like asking the blond for water, so he merely stayed quiet. Hunter seemed to notice this as he perked up and spoke.

“So, shall we start?” Morro raised an eyebrow at the eagerness present in the other’s tone but he didn’t question it.

“Sure.” He answered simply as he used a bit of wind to push the stack of books from the other side of the long table towards their side. Morro picked up a book, noticing the other doing the same, before the former paused. 

“I have a few questions though. Based on what I researched so far, I thought  of what may help me but since you’re more knowledgeable on the subject of magic I wanted to know if they’re plausible.” Hunter listened intently and nodded when Morro was finished, prompting the other to continue.

“Is it right for me to assume that using potions can help?” 

“Yes, that’s what I was thinking as well. The ingredients may vary depending on how exactly we’re planning to use it—like if you’re willing to drink it or if we splash it against a surface and turn it into a pathway toward your realm. Though I think the latter is a better idea since consuming an experimental potion can potentially kill you.” Morro tried not to snort at the last part as the guard continued.

“From what I know, realm travel is an unexplored concept so maybe we can create something close to it if we modify existing teleportation potions to make them powerful enough to transport you to another world.” Morro nodded, having thought of this already but was relieved to have a confirmation. It was also encouraging to know that Hunter seemed to know exactly what he was talking about, and the raven couldn’t help but feel glad that the other was helping him.

“I’m guessing this is our first approach?” Hunter nodded before responding.

“Once we research more on the ingredients, I’ll be able to gather them in-between missions then we’ll concoct the first attempt in a few weeks at the earliest.” Hunter then tilted his head as he questioned the other.

“What was your other suggestion?”

“Well, during our first meeting you were going to summon a bunch of guards by activating a… sigil of some sort? I was wondering if we could use something similar.” Hunter hummed.

“We call it an alarm, to alert the higher-ups if there is someone in restricted areas.” The other sounded like he said it absently, like his mind was deep in thought that he didn’t realize what he said. Morro paused before asking;

“You’re saying that like a sigil is known for only one purpose.” The blond chuckled but there was no humor behind it.

“That’s because it is. No one knows if more… sigils exist. Emperor Belos simply showed it one day and instructed everyone on how to make it after a certain incident.” Hunter shrugged, “At least, that is what I was told.”

Morro narrowed his gaze at the guard.

“But there’s so much potential in something like that. You’re saying no one bothered to explore the intricacies of the symbol either?” For once, the guard looked nervous as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Well I… tried, once. But I couldn’t find anything like it in books. Just by looking at it, I couldn’t find a pattern.” Morro looked in the direction of the forbidden section, where the old sigil could be found. 

“Maybe because there is no pattern?” There was a pause. 

“…what do you mean?” Morro looked back at the guard upon hearing the latter’s unsure tone.

“It looked like different symbols were connected by lines to make one sigil. Maybe it means different types of magic were combined in order to create it.” There was a longer pause as Morro and Hunter merely stared at one another. When the latter finally spoke, it had a bit of bite.

“Are you implying that the Emperor used wild magic in creating that sigil?” Morro widened his eyes, but he didn’t even get the chance to respond.

“I… I won’t fault you for your curiosity, but you shouldn’t create mindless accusations against the emperor like that.” What? 

Morro gritted his teeth, “I didn’t accuse anyone, I merely suggested—“ he cut himself off as he took a deep breath. Nope, he was not doing this. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine, whatever. If you really want to limit my options when we’re not even sure, we’ll stick with potions. If that fails, we’ll find something else.” Morro said in a tone calmer than what he felt as he buried his face in a book he has yet to read. 

A few seconds of awkward silence passed before he heard the rustling of a page, indicating Hunter opened his own book. Morro sneaked a peek at the other and he noticed that the other was purposefully looking away from the raven.

The latter held in a sigh. 

This was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter let out a quiet sigh as he drank the remaining contents of his coffee mug, before gently placing it beside his notebook using his left hand. His other one had yet to stop itself from writing vigorously in said notebook, only momentarily pausing from time to time when he flipped to the next page. He peeked into the open pages of a bigger book beside him before noting down another ingredient in his growing list.

He was so wrapped up in his self-constructed rhythm that he visibly flinched when a small scoff was heard from across him. Right. 

Him sitting in a dark corner of the library wasn’t a half-hearted attempt of nostalgia. He was here for a reason. A mission.

The Golden Guard reluctantly looked up. Well accustomed to undergoing assignments with uninterested scouts of lower ranking, he fully expected either a bored-looking expression or an uneasy look on the face of his companion. Instead, Hunter watched as an invested Morro squinted at his book ever so slightly like it personally offended him, which the former soon realized was a normal occurrence whenever an unfamiliar term appeared in the latter’s vision. 

This was immediately followed by a series of muttered curses to himself before deciding to read more for context. And just like that, the annoyance would melt from Morro’s face, a blank expression replacing it as he would carefully flip to another page. 

Then a second later, Morro slowly blinked as if feeling the other’s gaze. When emerald eyes met ruby-colored ones, both boys looked away.

Hunter looked back down at his notebook, suddenly feeling too awkward to continue writing as he suddenly remembered his current predicament. More specifically, the unspoken tension between the two for the past few nights. 

It wasn’t like they ignored one another’s presence all throughout each brainstorming session. Morro still inquired with Hunter for clarifications, and they both suggested potential ingredients to one another for the final recipe (which surprisingly has great progress so far) but afterwards there would be a silence that would make Hunter internally squirm each night that passed.

But whatever, the other wasn’t verbally addressing it, so Hunter wouldn’t either. 

So ever since, the blond found himself observing the other’s quiet mannerisms when his gaze would end up wandering away from his notes. 

Hunter noticed how Morro tried to look bored and uninterested when reading but when confused regarding a subject, the latter would openly question the other for knowledge he missed. And the blond couldn’t help but be impressed by how the questions were intelligent ones that only a few would even think of asking. 

When Hunter brought food each night, portions that gradually grew in amount over time; he noticed that Morro would first chew slowly, as if suspicious before suddenly devouring the whole thing like it would disappear before his very eyes.

When Morro would let out a dry cough, Hunter noticed how the former would reluctantly grab the nearest water bottle (once again, courtesy of the Golden Guard) before drinking it with eyes shut so tight, giving the impression that the raven would rather eat dirt than drink water. 

Lost in his thoughts, Hunter then peeked at the notepad and white pen placed near Morro. 

The former gave it the night prior, explaining that having a physical copy of one’s thoughts could help immensely in keeping track of everything, specifically the research Hunter knew the other was doing when the blond wasn’t around. At first, the raven attempted to write with his right hand, before frustratingly crumpling the sheet and throwing it to the side. A few more failed attempts before the notepad and pen were soon abandoned. 

The blond’s confusion only elevated upon noticing the other’s look of mourning frequently sent at the two objects. 

In short, Morro was an enigma whose actions obviously held more meaning behind them. But to the blond, they had an ounce of sense. Hunter would have felt weird, embarrassed almost that he analyzed the other like he was a puzzle waiting to be solved. 

He would have, if he wasn’t aware that Morro had been doing the exact same thing.

Hunter did his very best to seem guarded. He made sure to wear his mask constantly, and to keep his movements appear practiced. But when he least expected it, he felt the raven’s curious gaze whenever the former cut himself off too late in the middle of a ramble or if he spoke (quite mechanically) statements that further solidified his loyalty to his coven. 

The weirdest thing was that he never felt judged. Which was worse because now he wasn’t sure what exactly Morro thought of him whenever those unreadable green eyes looked at Hunter.

The blond then shook his head. Why would he care what the other thought of him? 

Hunter tried not to jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. The former looked up, not surprised that once again, a questioning look was aimed at him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?“ Hunter blinked, confused at the question.

“Excuse me?” Now it was Morro’s turn to look confused. It remained silent for a few seconds, as the raven looked like he was flipping something over in his head before something clicked. The edge of his lip twitched upward before speaking once more. 

“It means if I could know what’s on your mind.” Ah, so it was a phrase in the other’s realm. That didn’t explain what exactly a ‘penny’ was, but Hunter let it slide. As he processed the raven’s question, the blond realized that he wasn’t as subtle as he would have liked.

“Why do you care?” And no, Hunter was not projecting. Morro scoffed, gesturing towards the guard’s general direction.

“I don’t, but I could practically hear the gears turning in your head and it’s getting distracting.” The guard huffed as he picked up another book at his side before opening it, pretending to read the introduction as he flipped through a few pages. Unfortunately, the raven saw through the poor act. In a blink of an eye, Hunter’s book flew to the air. 

“Wha—hey! I was reading that!” Morro smirked, a challenge in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow. 

“I highly doubt that. Unless you have a talent for reading flipped words at record speed?” The raven questioned while flicking a wrist—making the book fly mere inches away from Hunter's mask. The blond grimaced as he realized the book was upside down.

“So, are you going to tell me what kept you occupied for the past ten minutes?” Hunter narrowed his gaze, not realizing that the other noticed the blond getting his head stuck in the clouds for a good while. Maybe it did become obvious when Hunter went from writing non-stop to staring into nothing.

There was no way that he was going to say that he was thinking about Morro when said Morro was right across from him. The blond cleared up his throat—frantically rummaging through his mind for an acceptable answer—before responding.

“I was… wondering if I could use Echoflower Essence since it’s a key ingredient in a common conveyance potion—but I’m not sure how to balance its properties with Abomination Ash. Combining them may be volatile and if we succeed in making a portal, it would just blow up in our faces.” Hunter rambled before grimacing. He didn’t realize until recently that he had a skill when it came to spouting half-truths. Though it wasn’t that much of a surprise considering his uncle was the emperor.

Sometimes there were a few things you had to hide from such a big figure.

He promptly kicked that traitorous thought out of his head, not liking the small ball of guilt slowly expanding in his gut. It didn’t help that Morro looked unconvinced at Hunter’s response, but instead of calling him out, the raven looked back down at his book and flipped back a few pages.

“Where is it… there. According to this, Snowbreath Petals can eliminate the explosive aspects of potion ingredients.” Hunter furrowed his brows before shaking his head.

“But that would mean their key properties would disappear completely, rendering these ingredients useless.” It was Morro’s turn to shake his head in disagreement.

“That would only happen if we’re reckless with the measurements. If we only put a small amount, like at least half a petal, it can prevent a violent reaction between the two ingredients while ensuring that it doesn’t erase their main effects. Though it doesn’t negate the probability of the portal not working, it would lessen the chance of an explosion.” 

Hunter blinked. This wasn’t the first time he was taken aback by the certainty in the raven’s tone when it came to discussing magic-related topics—as if he grew up learning it—but it seemed like it wouldn’t be the last. He wrote the ingredients down before looking back up at the other boy.

“…Are you certain that you aren't a witch?” Morro stared before his face subtly scrunched up in a weird expression, like he was trying not to laugh. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m not using magic or anything, I’m just reading. Knowledge is power and all that.” Morro said flippantly as his gaze was once again drawn towards the book in his hands. Hunter stared. 

When he first started reading about magic, it took him months before he actually started constructing his own theories on potions and elixirs, let alone feel bold enough to estimate certain proportions on theoretical recipes that had yet to be discovered. Then there’s this complete outsider who did it within a week without hesitation. 

Then again, said outsider didn’t fully understand the risk of mixing ingredients incompatible to one another. Or if he did, he most likely viewed the risks to be worth it. 

Hunter, on the other hand, always had a lingering sense of fear when it came to experimenting with magic of any kind, for he could never forget how dangerous the outcome could be if all went wrong.

He grimaced as he remembered what wild magic did to his uncle. He then forced a question out of his mouth, now knowing that a conversation was probably his best distraction.

“How long have you been reading these books exactly?” Morro huffed, visibly annoyed.

“I already told you that I’ve been stuck here for around a week. What else is there to do but read? It helps that this is actually interesting.” The raven flipped a few more pages, before his eyes widened slightly. Upon seeing the blond’s questioning look, the former formed a grin and showed his book to Hunter.

The page displayed a blood-red potion, with a mist pouring past the brim of the flask as it smoothly transitioned to an image of a grotesque beast that had already reached extinction centuries ago, its memory lost to the tall tales of the Boiling Isles. 

Hunter vaguely remembered coming across this same page years ago. 

He also vaguely remembered how this potion caused him to fear every visible red substance in the vicinity for an entire week, back when he was a child.  

Now that he was shown the page once again, he couldn’t help but be intrigued by the concept. But while the unnatural glow surrounding the illustration reminded him of it merely being a figment of one’s imagination, it doesn’t help that he still felt uneasy at the sight. Morro must have sensed Hunter’s opinion on it based on his silence.

“Yes, the creature looks creepy as fuck—but the potion itself?” Hunter huffed in amusement at the other’s genuine interest, only for him to disappointedly purse his lips at the sight of the other realizing his own open display of intrigue. Morro then shrugged, subtly closing in on himself once more, before returning to reading his book.

Hunter of all people would know if someone was putting on a mask, whether or not it was in a physical sense or a metaphorical one.

He cleared his throat.

“Well I can’t deny that magic is interesting. I can only imagine how you feel considering you’re not from here.” Morro merely grinned. 

He looked like he was about to speak before pausing, appearing to have been distracted once more. Silently, he plucked a folded piece of paper, and proceeded to unfold it with curiosity twinkling in his eyes. Whatever was written on the page though, it might have been surprising enough as Morro blatantly froze. 

Hunter raised an eyebrow questioningly then realized the other couldn’t see his confused expression. Before the guard could ask, the page was shown to him. 

His eyes widened. 

"Those look like—" Hunter abruptly cut himself off. Morro finished it for him.

“Patterns from the alarm-sigil? They do, don’t they?” The raven examined the imprinted symbols with renewed vigor, while Hunter only felt dread pooling at the center of his stomach as he watched intrigue flashing in the other’s face.

“This is interesting. I don’t know who left this here—but while some of these symbols look like they were broken down from the one in the restricted section, the other ones are new. Maybe if we—“ 

“No. We won’t be doing anything about this.”

Hunter didn’t realize he spoke out a bit too harshly until he recognized that Morro’s face became carefully blank, but the former still managed to see the small twitch of annoyance.

"Don’t you understand? Yes, I’m aware we’re still looking at potions at the moment, and yes , we had this conversation already. But can’t you see that this is another solution to my predicament that we can’t just brush off?” 

"You agreed to not perform wild magic. Therefore, we won't indulge ourselves in something so dangerous." He stated, which caused the other to scoff.

"I know what I agreed to. But I just don’t understand what’s so dangerous about it that you refuse to consider it as an option. I didn’t understand half of the stuff I read, but it has potential, and it is also quite interesting." The ghost gave a non-subtle side-eye.

"It should be if you’ve visited the restricted section every night I've been here." Hunter felt himself get backed into a metaphorical corner.

"Well, perhaps I was on the look-out for a certain intruder."

"You appeared at the restricted section constantly even before you knew about me. I also saw you browse through a few books." The raven pointed out. The blond couldn't take it anymore as he pulled the book away from him to fully look at the other. 

"We're going to stop talking about this." Hunter snapped a bit with glare, but the other merely glared harder. 

For a few seconds, neither moved, as they were locked into a glaring contest. After a few more moments, Morro rolled his eyes, breaking eye contact. 

"Whatever." He remained silent after that as he looked back at his book as Hunter did the same.

The tension converted to awkwardness as Hunter started to feel guilt seeping in. He was basically withholding information that could potentially bring the other home. But… 

No, it was for the best.

A few more beats of silence passed before Morro sighed.

“Look blondie, if you refuse to speak about wild magic or whatever— fine by me . But I refuse to be subjected to another torturous silence.” The blunt statement forced Hunter to hold in a snort. Though he felt like he failed when he tried to hide it behind a small cough before speaking. 

“I figured you preferred the silence. You never struck me as a conversationalist.” 

“Because I’m not, but the air is so thick I could stab a knife clean through it. It’s suffocating.” Hunter could never understand how the other managed to say such a theatrical statement using a sarcastic voice with no difficulty. If Hunter was anybody else, the delivery would have been hilarious. But because he was the Golden Guard, he merely deadpanned.

“And why would I care for your dramatics?” Morro raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who comes in here every night wearing a mask and a cape.” Hunter sputtered.

“W—well, I’m the Golden Guard. Technically, I’m still on duty so I must ensure I’m in uniform.” Hunter then mumbled stubbornly, “And this is a cloak, not a cape.” The statement caused Morro to roll his eyes again.

“It's midnight, we’re the only ones here, and I bet you’ve been wearing that damn mask the entire day.” When it became evident that Hunter was planning to remain stubborn, Morro scoffed. 

“If you’re worried about your looks or something, I’ve already seen it.” Hunter could have sworn to the Titan that he nearly snapped his neck by how quickly he looked up.

“When?” Hunter’s voice felt tense as he demanded an answer. Morro noticed the former’s panic and deadpanned, as if trying to relay with his eyes on how obvious the answer was.

“When I brought you to your room, remember? Your mask fell off when you blacked out.” Right. That happened. Hunter had no idea how such an important detail slipped from his mind. Yet now that he recalled the memory, he couldn't help but frown. 

Now that he remembered their first meeting— well , now was a time as good as any for him to get answers, right?

“…I don’t suppose you know the cause of me passing out, do you?” Morro momentarily paused, as if not expecting the question, before he shook his head.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he drawled but not unkindly, “but as I said before. I turned around the corner, and you passed out. Probably because you’re a workaholic but what would I know?” Hunter bit down a scowl as he put a bit more thought into the response. 

While he loathed to admit it, that wasn’t the first instance he blacked out due to overexertion. What concerned him, however, was that he did so in the middle of the hallway instead of the safety of his personal quarters. The needs of his body betrayed him as he was left in a vulnerable position, prone to any scout that would have passed by and informed the emperor immediately.

If it weren’t for the fact that Morro brought him to his room. Which caused another question to resurface. 

“How exactly did you—“ 

Without any warning, a loud thunderous roar echoed outside the building, accompanied by a flashing light reflecting on the window.

Hunter refused to acknowledge the undignified screech that escaped him, instead allowing the realization of the upcoming boiling storm to wash over him. He barely even spared a thought to consider if the other scouts in charge of preparing the castle for the weather had already performed their duty, before the raven’s cackle echoed in their little corner of the library. 

Even with the mask on his face, Hunter tried to use every bit of will power he could muster to let the other know he was glaring. 

Fortunately, the raven must have understood that the other was glaring based on the annoyed aura currently surrounding the guard.

Un fortunately, this only caused the other to accompany his amusement with teasing remarks and a snarky grin.

Hunter refused to speak for half an hour after that, only to willingly resume conversation more calmly than before when he noticed Morro’s fleeting wary glances towards the window when it started to rain harder.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ 

Three days had already passed since the night they had decided upon their first attempt at a realm-traversing potion formula.

It had also been three days since they had last spoken for more than ten minutes, where Hunter wouldn’t just simply drop off some food and water, have light conversation—aka bickering with their temporary resident—before retreating to his room for his own nightly research.

(The raven insisted that the guard should return to his room in order to rest. Hunter would listen with little complaint. 

Only because he knew he was planning to do anything but sleep.)

They had both agreed to concoct their potion in one of the castle’s private laboratories once they managed to get his hands on the ingredients. While Morro had initially volunteered to get them himself, they both then realized the risk of anyone else discovering the raven’s existence. So that left Hunter to do it, which should be easier since he had access to the reserves in the castle.

Except, the blond’s schedule has piled up drastically recently—which was a good thing! It meant the emperor had entrusted him with more missions ever since Kikimora messed up on her last one. Ha!

But it also meant he had no spare time to sneak into the castle’s personal storage room full of potion ingredients. While Hunter’s position allowed him to come and go as he pleased, he wasn’t willing to risk bumping into anyone that would question him. Normally, he wouldn’t care due to his superior position. Any other coven scout wouldn’t bat an eye but there was one individual he needed to avoid.

Head Lilith. 

Unfortunately, she had enough authority to rat him out to the emperor the moment she found the guard acting suspicious. 

Grabbing a few potion ingredients would mean they would have to update the current records of what they had; and the head of the coven, alongside the Golden Guard himself, would be alerted of such changes by the end of the week. 

While the Boiling Isles flourished with magic, some potion ingredients were incredibly rare. Hunter could get away with obtaining something as common as Snake Weed (Titan, he could just step out of this castle and find a handful within the next ten minutes) but Echoflower Essence was a hard find. It would appear as specks of dust dripping from a specific specie of flowers touched by moon magic once a year, when the celestial powers would align. 

The moment the sun rises the next morning, this dust would vanish into thin air.

It took the coven decades just to fill an entire jar—if Head Lilith found out that Hunter even took a speck of it for reasons unknown to her, that would lead to a line of questioning the blond was sure even his authority couldn’t avoid. 

He could try to find his own dust but that would mean he would have to wait for weeks— months even. Not only was that a long time, there was no guarantee that Hunter would be able to thoroughly search the entirety of the isles just to find the moon-touched flowers before the sun rose.

The thought made him groan. 

He was just about to back out and contemplated suggesting to Morro tonight that they should probably think of an alternative before internally wincing at the realization that it would mean they would divert from the closest formula they’ve had since they began. They’d have to start from scratch once more.

That was not a thought he liked.

He doubted Morro would like it either. 

Alright then, new plan! 

Good news, Lilith was finally sent on another mission which will force her out of the castle for a while. 

Bad news, Hunter would still be preoccupied with his own duties. Meaning if he was planning to head to the reserve, he had to do so before Lilith would return by the end of the day. If the guard could speed through all of his duties he would be able to teleport into the reserve, grab all the ingredients he needed, and teleport away. 

As he did a quick mental run-down of the plan once more, he realized how it basically meant he was sneaking in as if it was some kind of illegal heist. Which was not true. 

Doubt seeped into the corner of his mind as he wondered whether or not this was an action that could be perceived as rebelling against the emperor before immediately reassuring himself that it wasn’t since it was for a good reason.

Right before dinner, Hunter left the training grounds immediately after he advised the scouts placed under his care that it was late enough for them to halt their exercises and proceed to the dining hall. As always, there was no resistance. 

Which confused Hunter to no end considering how enjoyable rigorous training can be—the adrenaline, the sparring, the magic!—but he had no time to ponder on it as he appeared in the center of the reserve. He allowed himself a few seconds to admire the countless number of shelves surrounding him, all consisting of ingredients with varying rarities, before smothering a quiet curse as he met the gaze of a familiar set of sharp, mint green eyes. 

“Head Lilith.” A polite greeting.

“Golden Guard.” Also a greeting, but it had more bite to it.  

Behind the mask, Hunter narrowed his eyes at the woman who was currently twisting the lid of a jar consisting of Slither Scales. The blond made his tone as light as possible as he leaned against his staff. 

“So, what are you doing here?” The woman pursed her lips, as if trying not to frown.

“I believe it is none of your business.” She responded as she placed the closed jar in its rightful place. She turned around again before looking straight at Hunter with accusing eyes.

“And you? What are you doing here?” For a moment, the blond panicked before realizing that this was his opening. He answered wryly;

“I believe it is none of your business.” Lilith’s right eye twitched.  

“You are insufferable.” That sounded familiar.

“I try.” Hunter didn’t need to remove his mask to let the other know he was grinning smugly. For a second, the woman appeared to have the desire to throttle him when she regained her composure, though her posture was a bit too rigid to appear as calm and collected as she wanted to be.

“If you must know, I simply brought back a souvenir from my latest assignment. I heard we were running short on a few items in the reserve and decided to contribute.” Hunter nodded respectfully in agreement.

“How charitable of you.” It appeared the woman didn’t find the statement as respectful though as she rolled her eyes this time.

“Well, will you tell me why you’re here now?” Hunter hummed, as if in deep thought before shrugging. 

“It’s still none of your business.” Lilith looked offended.

“I told you my reason for my presence here.”

“And it was your choice to do so.”

“You asked!” 

“And you decided to answer.” 

It was so hard for Hunter to not wheeze in laughter on the spot as the usually composed woman looked like she was about to blow a fuse. Though the brief form of entertainment was shattered when Hunter was reminded of why he wanted to avoid the woman in the first place. 

“I don’t have time for your antics. Your avoidance gives me the impression that you’re hiding something.” Hunter’s mouth went dry but he kept his tone light. 

“It’s quite rude to accuse your superior of such.” Before Lilith could retort, Hunter continued, “But if you must know, I’m here for a short visit as well. I’m going on another mission soon near the Knee, so I thought I could see what I could add to the current storage.” The woman looked unconvinced before she scoffed.

“How charitable of you.” Hunter grinned once more.

“Why thank you, Head Lilith. You never did express such gratitude when I assisted you with your duties.” The woman glared.

“And why would I have any desire to inflate your ego any further?” Hunter’s grin became sharper as he simply remarked; 

“Well, if you wanted my perspective, it would make your presence a bit more tolerable.” 

“I am a pleasure to be around.” Hunter chuckled in a slightly condescending manner as he watched the woman’s face twist into annoyance upon realizing that she had raised her voice a bit too loudly. She gritted her teeth before fixing it into a forced smile and spoke again.

“You, on the other hand, are infuriating.” She mumbled as she brushed past him and opened the doors.

“I’ll see you at the next meeting, Head Lilith.” The guard exclaimed with fake cheer as the doors shut behind him, though he noticed there was a slight pause—as if the woman had to refrain from slamming the door. 

The guard never really did understand the witch’s animosity toward him, but if she decided to hate him just because of his existence, there was nothing wrong in having fun with it, right? 

Hunter shook his head before proceeding to summon a small sack in his hands as he approached the shelves. 

He quickly took portions that were small enough that wouldn’t be noticeable before vanishing once more. He teleported into his bedroom and carefully placed the sack beside his bed. He would have teleported directly into the laboratory but he still needed to get some food for Morro before the chefs ran out of leftovers. 

With that thought, he teleported into the kitchen. 

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

In the library, as the raven ate his dinner, Hunter regaled his trip to the reserve. He couldn’t pinpoint why but he felt a bit of pride whenever the other let out a quiet laugh or a snarky grin in the parts where the blond shared his successful attempts of irritating the woman so much that she didn’t even bother to question the guard any further.

As the blond finished speaking, Morro appeared to be amused as he carefully chewed the last bit of griffin eggs on his plate. A momentary silence appeared as he swallowed before asking:

“Why didn’t you wait until later tonight before sneaking in anyway? Less likely you’d run into anyone that way.”

Hunter’s grin fell.

Morro raised an eyebrow.

The former, ignoring the mask still on his face, crossed his arms and scoffed.

The latter, ignoring the blond’s embarrassment, snorted shamelessly.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

“For being a smartass, you can also be such a dumbass.” 

The Golden Guard purposefully ignored the other’s reference to the blond’s mistake of overlooking a simpler plan of action as he refused to give the other satisfaction by reacting outwardly. Instead, he dutifully adjusted his grip on a stack of books, his own notebook laying on the top, while simultaneously trying to ensure his staff was secure in the grasp of his free hand. 

He looked up, unsurprised at the mischievous smirk on the raven’s face before he scoffed, immediately giving up in ignoring the other. 

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to react to that.”

“If you ignore the unsavory words, it’s a compliment and an insult wrapped into one.”

“Don’t compliment and insult me at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I didn’t have the liberty to speak my opinion.” 

“Well if those opinions target others it’s most preferable if you keep those to yourself.”

“I do believe honesty is the best policy, is it not?” 

Hunter scowled, before silently huffing upon realizing that it was no use, “Will you hold onto me before we spend another hour in here?”

Morro adjusted his own pile of books resting on his left hand before placing his other hand in a surprisingly gentle manner on the guard’s shoulder. The raven then raised an eyebrow.

“This wouldn’t cause any side-effects to first-timers, right?”

Instead of responding, Hunter simply willed his staff to envelope them in a bright flash of red. One minute they were in the library, and the next, they were in the center of one of the private potion-making laboratories at the West Wing. The blond ensured that no one reserved the room that night, and had already brought the ingredients they needed when the coast was clear. 

As Hunter placed his books onto the nearest work table, Morro did the same, albeit a bit shakily as his smooth hovering over the floor wavered just a bit. Of course, the blond couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“What? Nothing to say?”

The only response Hunter received was a specific finger raised in his direction. 

If he had to be honest, he never really did ask for the meaning of the gesture but based on the context it was used in so far, the blond merely deduced that it was supposed to be an offensive one, if not crude. A silent rebuttal whenever the other had no words worthy enough to express his annoyance.

Since, once again, he wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was, he merely ignored it altogether and tried not to seem smug at the thought of actually making the other speechless. He grabbed his notebook from the top of the pile and opened it, immediately taking out the list neatly folded between the pages.

“Alright, I have the ingredients and instructions written here. But first, I think we should check if we already have everything.” While Hunter technically already did that, being well aware of the precautions they needed to take when it came to potion preparations, there was no harm in being sure. 

Morro must have understood the reasoning judging by how serious he looked as he simply nodded in agreement.

As Hunter spoke aloud the different ingredients names on his list, the raven would respond with either a hum or a silent confirmation that they indeed had the ingredient. 

When they were certain they had an appropriate amount of the last ingredient, they immediately moved onto the given instructions. Considering that the result they desired from this poem was a bit complex, it was no surprise that the steps in making them were a bit complicated as it seemed that it would take them nearly the entire night to make. 

Hunter’s first thought was that creating this potion with Morro would be an inconvenience considering that the latter had no prior experience with dealing with such concoctions, and that the other would simply hinder the process.

Which was why the guard was surprised that as a bit of time passed, they started to work in tandem.

When Hunter was dealing with measurements, Morro would diligently stir the pot of mixed substances at a consistent pace with no complaint—no matter how long it had been since his hand was able to rest or the seemingly unreasonable amount of intervals needed between adding the ingredients to the pot.

Whenever the blond suddenly realized that he needed an ingredient or equipment from the opposite side of the table, the raven would instantly use his wind to make the object float towards the former.

The moment the guard uttered an instruction, the other would take them in stride as he tried to follow them to the best of his abilities. 

After five tiring hours, the boiling potion looked like it was nearly ready. Hunter watched curiously as the other looked at the potion with a mix of awe and pride, the exhausted lines beneath the latter’s eyes disappearing momentarily at the sight of the bright blue substance.

Seemingly noticing the other’s stare, Morro looked at Hunter. 

“So, when do we test this out?”

Hunter looked out the window at the other side of the room. Seeing that it was still dark out, he estimated that it would be a couple more hours before the sun rises. He turned back to Morro with a shrug.

“Right now if you want.” The raven’s eyes widened momentarily, before a flash of determination settled in his gaze as he looked at the potion.

“So, do I just drink it?” Hunter’s eyes widened.

“What—? No! We already spoke of the dangers of drinking it, we don’t even know if it will work!” Morro grimaced. The blond did the same when he realized what he said. Before he could take it back, the raven raised a hand to cut him off.

“No, it’s fine. I understand that this may be a futile attempt but it’s worth a try, you know? And whether or not you still help me after this, I’m not giving up that easily.” Hunter bit his lip before nodding.

“And neither will I.” Morro’s expression was once again carefully blank, refusing to make eye contact, but Hunter didn’t miss the hint of gratitude in the upward twitch of other’s mouth.

“So, you’re certain that it’s safe to just pour this onto the floor and hope it won't disintegrate the ground beneath us?” At Morro’s pondering, Hunter was already in the middle of using protective gloves instead of his white ones as he filled an empty flask with the potion. 

“We won’t be doing it here. We can try the woods, I know of a clearing not far from here.” Morro nodded as he helped in cleaning the table and piled all their books into a neat pile at the corner. As Hunter sealed the container with a small cork, the raven had already put aside the equipment they had used previously. 

The guard used his staff to teleport their books back into the corner of the library. By the time they were done, the laboratory looked as if no one had used it in the first place. Hunter raised his staff once more, and without any prompting, Morro placed a hand on the other’s shoulder.

In a blink of an eye, the sight of stone walls was replaced with huge trees surrounding them in an imperfect circle. Hunter came across this clearing when he was younger, and while he spent less time coming here, he still found it a good place to visit in-between missions during those rare instances where he wanted to unwind for a few minutes. 

He turned to Morro, who was already gazing up at the night sky. The blond was slightly curious on why the other would try to sneak a glance at the stars every chance he got during their late-night research, but he refused to pry. He merely swirled the potion in his hand in a gentle manner, watching as the substance slowly moved around the container, before removing the cork once he noticed that the raven’s gaze was once again directed at him. 

“I advise you to keep your distance since we’re unsure if this will indeed melt through the ground or explode in our faces.” Hunter prepared to pour the potion when Morro gently plucked the flask from the guard’s hand. Ignoring the initial protest, Morro flicked the wrist of his free hand and allowed the potion to safely hover between them. 

“You should keep your distance as well. I can pour it, and if nothing happens, I’ll try to go through it.” Hunter couldn’t do anything but nod. 

The raven allowed the potion to float away, and once it was at a respectable distance, he tilted the container, allowing the substance to slowly pour onto the grass. As it formed a circular puddle on the ground, the surface started to create a swirling pattern mixed with lighter and darker shades of blue. If one looked closely, there were even thin lines of black creeping in every once in a while.

“We did it. We made a portal.” Morro mumbled to himself as he floated towards the vortex. Hunter felt uneasy as he followed the other, and watched the swirling motions. He risked a glance at Morro.

“Are you sure it’s a portal?” Morro nodded.

“I’m sure.” Well, it wasn’t not like Hunter could refute that, could he? 

As Morro continued to watch the shimmer of the newly-formed vortex, Hunter approached the tree behind him and grabbed the nearest vine before testing its firmness. When the latter tugged at it a few more times, he nodded to himself and approached the other. 

“Tie this end around your waist. That way, if anything goes wrong, just tug and I’ll pull you up.” Morro nodded and held his hand out. When Hunter handed him one end of the vine, the other wrapped it around his torso and finished it with a tight knot. With a small tug, the vine refused to become loose. 

Morro nodded to himself. He was about to approach the portal when Hunter stopped him with a mumbled ‘wait’. The raven listened, but his face portrayed a bit of annoyance and curiosity as he turned around.

“What?” 

“We’re not sure if this will lead anywhere—or if it does, that it may lead to a realm that isn’t Ninjago. Do you have anything on you that originated from the realm?” Morro paused. Hunter didn’t know one was capable of switching through different emotions so quickly, but he witnessed it himself as he watched confusion, realization, then guilt flash on the other's face before his features were carefully arranged into a blank expression.

“Uh, yes. Ninjago. That’s the realm I’m heading for.” Morro mumbled to himself absently as he stared into the portal. Hunter couldn’t tell if he should be concerned or irritated. 

“Well? Do you have anything or what?” Huh, based on his tone, he settled for being irritated. This snapped the other back to reality as he reached into his cloak. Once his hand resurfaced from beneath the dark fabric, an old folded piece of paper found itself between Morro’s pale fingertips. Hunter looked curiously at the torn edges of the paper, wondering what exactly it was. Before he could question it, Morro huffed as he tightened his grip on the paper and looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

Hunter watched the other as the latter hovered toward the vortex. A bit hesitant, Morro allowed himself to sink down and allow his feet to make contact with the substance on the ground. What took them both by surprise, however, was that he didn’t go through. 

Hunter watched with wide eyes as the substance started creeping up to the other’s ankles. Instinctively, the blond pulled on the vine with all the force he could muster, allowing both of them to fall back to the ground with a small thud. But while Morro was now inches away from the vortex, the liquid continued to creep up to the other’s torso. Upon noticing this, both boys looked at each other with wide eyes, panic settling into both of them. 

Not knowing what to do, Hunter felt himself reaching out for the other—before realizing his hand took hold of air as the other boy disintegrated into the substance before melting into the vortex nearby. 

The vine laid limp on the grass, the end still dipped into the blue substance of the vortex still swirling before him.

In the silence of the clearing, Hunter blinked a few times, his mind attempting to understand what just happened but instead finding it blank. He barely even registered the cool air making contact with his cheeks as his next words were heavily inspired by the boy that just disappeared.

“ ...What the fuck?”

Chapter Text

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙮

𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄ .𖥔 ݁ ˖༄

The hard floor of the library was disturbingly cold yet Morro found that he didn’t mind as he laid his back against the surface. He looked up at the dark ceiling with towering bookshelves taking over the corners of his vision. He attempted to squint and trace every detail from his position, mentally noting down the cracks forming in some areas and spiderwebs forming in the corners. 

He didn’t know how many times he had performed this small ritual, but at that point he couldn’t find anything new in his observations and was extremely tempted to find a new spot of nothingness he could stare at. Though his body felt too stiff, as if it became one with the floor. He couldn’t move his hand to carry himself with his soothing wind even if he wanted to. 

Ultimately, the sudden lack of activity led him back to sinking into his mentally constructed cesspool of thoughts that he so desperately wanted to avoid in the first place. The transition between his former weightlessness to the bone-crushing impact of himself dropping into a pit of regret and self-deprecation caused him to wince outwardly. 

The last time he slept was a couple nights ago, when he tucked himself into a corner near the window. One moment, he was admiring the yellow and orange hues reflecting on the glass as the sun began to set, and the next, he was subjected to hearing the echoing screams of a certain green ninja during the first possession. Even during his waking moments, those raw screams would haunt him from the shadows.

(He can only imagine the amount of trauma he had inflicted upon the green ninja himself.)

These past few weeks, he had willfully ignored every single thought that attempted to create certain feelings to resurface. He didn’t have time to dwell on self-introspection when he could utilize such time to escape into a place where he didn’t need to think of such things. 

Whether or not Hunter was there to accompany him, Morro was knee-deep in his research. His mind contained an unhealthy amount of magic—considering that he didn’t even belong in his realm—that he genuinely felt that if someone cornered him into taking a quiz with rapid-fire questions about wild magic and potion ingredients, he'd pass. 

But of course, he’s only human (the thought caused him to sneer in distaste at the reminder) and weeks of books on top of books with only a handful of sleep became too much. Since he still refused to lull himself into slumber, he would often find himself laying on the floor, completely unaware of how much time had passed.

Some may chastise him for doing it on the dirty floor but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He knew his appearance was already ruffled considering the first thing he did after being resurrected from the dead was isolate himself in an old library for nearly a month. 

It didn’t help that this was the same clothing he had when he died the first time so his appearance must really look more pitiful than it should be.

Before he could further entertain that line of thought, a familiar red light flashed nearby. Morro didn’t pay it any mind until a certain guard approached him. Despite the mask covering the other’s face, Morro could tell that the other was trying to catch his gaze.

“…what’s with me finding you on the floor when I come here?” The tone was laced with confusion along with a hint of amusement.

“You only caught me twice.”

“That’s implying you did it more than a couple of times.” 

“Shut up, you’re not here to judge me.” Morro said with a huff as he reluctantly sat up and tucked his knees, embracing them with his arms. He barely even registered that he felt so small all of a sudden when he heard a bit of shuffling and suddenly the Golden Guard was right beside him. On the floor.

The blond let out a sigh, and for a moment Morro expected a judgmental statement to follow the action. But instead:

“No, I’m not. I’m here to help you get back to your realm.” Hunter said with a certain amount of conviction as he showed a familiar list, but for the first time, it appeared to be complete. “I finished this during lunch, and the reason we couldn’t figure out how to balance the ingredients last night was because we forgot one more ingredient to tie it all together.” 

Morro raised an eyebrow, “And that is?”

“Boiling Sea Salt.”

“…really?” Morro couldn’t hide the sheer disbelief in his tone. Hunter merely shrugged.

“It has a few magical properties most either underestimate or are unaware of. I only know because of a failed experiment in the past.”

“Now that’s a story worth knowing.”

“Well, if this potion works, there’s no point in knowing.” Morro didn’t have the heart to squash down the small ball of hope slowly forming in him, and it certainly didn’t help that the blond sounded so confident.

“You’ll get back to Ninjago in no time.” And with that, said hope diminished as Morro’s gaze remained fixated on the floor.

Right. Ninjago.

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“Uh, yes. Ninjago. That’s the realm I’m heading for.”

Morro had completely forgotten about how he never stated that Ninjago wasn’t the realm he was trying to go back to. Of course, it was the obvious assumption considering that he said that he came from Ninjago—but the realization didn’t materialize in his mind until that moment.

He had a split-second to feel a bit guilty for it before immediately pushing it away because just because the blond was willing to help him didn’t mean that he was obligated to receive more details of what happened than what Morro was willing to share. 

Which was admittedly the bare minimum; where the raven came from, what he was, his abilities—and that was it. The rest of the conversation was half-heartedly insulting one another, theorizing on their first attempt at a potion, and Hunter’s equal attempts of being closed-off when it came to his own life.

What happened right before Morro’s arrival in the Demon Realm was an extremely long list of confusing complications and buried emotions that he wasn’t willing to go through. Not out loud, and especially not to some blond kid who acted like his job was the only reason for his existence.

Before that particular observation could properly be inspected, the blond snapped him out of his thoughts with an annoyed tone. 

“Well? Do you have anything or what?”

The jump from one thought to another took him by a whiplash. To be completely honest with himself, he’d rather examine Hunter’s weird mannerisms whenever the emperor was brought up instead of paying any mind to the old drawing tucked deep into the hidden pocket of his cloak. Stiffly, he found himself absently grabbing the folded piece of paper, its edges slightly worn and crumpled. 

He knew exactly what sight would greet him if he unfolded it for what felt like the millionth time. (The rough outlines of a man with a content smile, and a younger boy with the widest grin as he was tucked into the former’s embrace. Small, messy writings in the corner—) So he didn’t. 

He truly didn’t have anything else on his person, especially one that originated from the Departed Realm of all things. He figured that this object could be a worthy substitute. The drawing was done in Ninjago, yes, but it was the remnants of a doomed relationship. 

A dead one. And ‘dead’ was the basic essence of the Departed Realm.

It was a feeble attempt—logic that only people as fucked up and naive as him could conclude, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it? Or maybe the fact that he was supposed to be dead was enough reason for the universe to understand what his heart desired or whatever.

Mentally kicking himself out of his thoughts, he looked away and approached the vortex with both newfound determination and dread. 

He tried to catch Hunter’s eye. A silent goodbye, for he found himself unable to muster a proper one. But when the guard appeared to be occupied in his own thoughts, Morro merely stayed quiet and gently coerced his wind to allow him to drift slowly toward the swirling blue surface. 

Of course, that was when everything didn’t go according to plan. 

One moment he had to endure the uncomfortable feeling of a slimy substance enveloping his entire body (if he froze at the familiar texture, that was no one’s business but his own), and the next, he was experiencing descent. 

Before he even got the chance to panic, he landed on a smooth surface with an echoing splash. Surprised by how quick the fall was, he sat up immediately and blanched at the sight of a familiar goo surrounding him. He looked down, and it appeared as if his clothes were soaked in the aforementioned black and blue gel-like liquid. 

No one has the ability to convince Morro that this place was the Departed Realm and not a sticky substance infestation. He wrinkled his nose in disgust because this was the shittiest way of getting his hopes up. What did he and Hunter do wrong? 

Well—maybe it was a bit too optimistic that they would get it on the first try but Morro was so sure that each instruction performed meticulously was a step closer to the right direction. But evidently, that direction was a path to some kind of—slime realm? Dimension? Void? Whatever. Wherever he was, he wasn’t planning to be stuck here forever. 

He checked his torso, and sure enough, the vine was still wrapped around him. He was about to harshly tug on it before he realized that his hands were empty. 

Panicking, he frantically looked around before seeing a certain rectangle floating nearby, its edges tainted by the weird substance. Morro determinedly walked over to it—with slight difficulty as the goo stuck to his legs—and bent over to pick up the drawing. He realized that it had unfolded itself, and without warning, he saw the drawing once more after what felt like years. 

He blinked, feeling numb as he involuntarily recollected the origins of the drawing. 

It was a hastily drawn portrait by his younger self one stormy night, when Garmadon had completely severed ties with his brother through a coldly written letter. Said brother meditated in his room as a silent comfort after reading the parchment with sad eyes. 

Morro had thought that a gesture as simple as this would cheer the man up at the time. 

Right after being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia, he watched with wide eyes as the weird gel at the corner of the paper started to envelope—merge?—with the object itself. Before he could even blink, the luminous, viscous substance in his surroundings began to shift as well.

The cool liquid beneath him slowly changed into a distant warmth of wooden tiles, and the pulsating expanse started closing in to create a smaller space using familiar-looking walls. 

The raven didn’t even notice his breathing beginning to quicken as he watched everything morph into the inside of a monastery. 

Morro had to take a step back when a small humanoid ball of energy raced past where he was. Looking down, he stared at the sight of a younger boy with shorter black hair laying on his stomach as he hastily started to swipe a quill left and right on a piece of paper. A paper that Morro knew the other had snatched from a random shelf.

The raven couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed as he heard his younger self yelp at the sound of thunder outside because this just confirmed what this was. When this was.

His mind started to race with thoughts, only to realize that this wasn’t an ordinary void. The substance basically swallowed Morro’s drawing and manifested itself into the memory the raven had most associated it with. He barely registered when the boy on the floor had already finished his drawing.   

The younger boy just finished writing a quick scribble on the corner—I love you… it said I love you —before bouncing over to younger Wu’s private quarters and slipping the sheet of paper through the small opening beneath the door. He then sat down on the wooden floor, willfully ignoring the thunderous roars outside as he awaited Wu’s response. 

Present Morro watched with slightly glossy eyes as the paper then slipped back out, while the boy in the memory immediately snatched the paper from the floor. Within moments, the younger boy started openly sniffling as he traced the new writing on the corner of the paper. 

The door creaked open as the blond man stepped out with a small, appreciative smile. It then became concerned as he saw his student crying before him. Before the man could ask, the boy hugged him and dropped the drawing. The man hugged him back just as tightly.

Present Morro ignored the heartwarming exchange as he watched stiffly at the drawing that slowly drifted towards the floor. He examined the new, neater handwriting embedded in the corner. I love you too.

Absently, Morro picked up the paper. Before he knew it, the memory had reverted itself to the gel-like expanse that he was first greeted with. The only evidence of the illusion occurring was the tears he was still struggling to hold back. Those were simpler times, weren’t they? 

Wu was there for him when he was a homeless eight-year-old struggling to survive, and therefore, he intended to be there for the man when he was downtrodden by guilt and yearning.  

And now that was a bond Morro could never get back. Ever. 

He rubbed his eyes, furious at himself. He had already confronted this fact moments before he sank into the sea yet he still couldn’t get the fuck over it . With a grunt, he was once again about to tug the vine and get himself out of here. But of course, he couldn’t get his way that easily. 

He froze upon witnessing the void shift once more, confusion starting to overwhelm his annoyance upon remembering that he didn’t bring anything else with him upon sinking into the vortex. 

He looked around, rapidly searching for the possible cause of the world’s transformation. He only managed to catch a quick glimpse of gold in the distance before it fully sank into the substance, and Morro had to watch the contrast of blue and black change into dark grey tiles. 

The void shrank into a huge room. Morro found himself amongst a crowd with varying reactions of joy, and disappointment. Their gaze was fixated on one side of the room, and Morro found himself following their gaze. 

He blinked at the sight of a shorter Golden Guard marching proudly across the room. His golden mask glistened, and the back of his cloak waved back-and-forth as the boy used large strides in order to appear right in front of an imposing man with a weird mask and old-looking clothes. 

This must have been the emperor, Morro thought to himself as he watched the scene play out with curious eyes. 

In one swift motion, the Golden Guard kneeled. The emperor tapped the boy’s shoulders with the tip of his own staff, and suddenly it clicked. This must have been Hunter’s ascension to the position of right-hand man. Morro frowned. At present, the boy was already shorter than him. 

The boy in the memory couldn’t have been older than ten-years-old. 

Ignoring this fact, Hunter stood up and the cheers became louder. This caused Morro to shake his head, willing his thoughts to stop. He was getting distracted. He pulled away from the crowd and started to approach the illusion of the Golden Guard. 

The mask must have been the cause of the world’s shift. So if the raven had the object back in his grasp, the world would turn back and he would return to the surface with the guard’s mask on tow. Simple. 

Except it wasn’t. 

The moment Morro was mere inches away from the beaming Golden Guard, the scene changed. 

He let down his outstretched hand as he realized that the void morphed into another room with shadows lurking eerily in the corner. The only source of light present were nearby torches, and the sharp glow of blue emanating from two holes of a mask donned by a tall figure staying dangerously still in front of a throne. This time, the emperor was the one in possession of the mask as he seemed to scrutinize the object in his grasp.

Aside from that, the scene looked off. Morro looked lower and paused.   

The blond boy was in a feeble position, lying stiffly on his side. His pristine cloak was ruffled and dirty, and the hood was removed, revealing the pitiful state of his messy hair. From where he stood, Morro couldn’t see the boy’s front. But judging from the movement of the boy’s back, he was breathing heavily. That didn’t ease Morro’s nerves.

The emperor stepped forward, his hands held before him as if to nullify the tense situation. In doing so, he revealed the tip of his glove had a visible stain of red.

The blond boy flinched, moving backward but not going any farther as he appeared to be frozen in fear.

Morro’s eyes darkened.

The mask was then carelessly thrown to the side, and landed with a loud clank right before Morro’s feet. Said raven was frozen in shock at the sight of the young blond whimpering on the floor. 

The so-called emperor started approaching the younger boy with agonizingly slow steps, causing the little Hunter to look up. Morro couldn’t see the extent of the damage from his position, but in his peripheral vision, he caught a brief flash of red. Blood red dripping down Hunter’s chin and staining the white of his cape. The emperor was still walking toward the injured boy.  

What in First Master’s fucking name.

With wide eyes, Morro bent down and snatched the slightly dented mask from the ground. He blinked and the scene was gone. 

Blue and black goo pulsed around him. With a sick stomach, he stared numbly at the mask in his hands. His face was the epitome of blankness—but his mind consisted of a continuous line of swears and curses as he tried to process what just occurred. 

He had assumed that this void’s main purpose was to display the origins of the object the thick blue and black substance would absorb. But after witnessing the events that just occurred, a theory that wriggled into his mind was that the void intended to show certain memories that were most attached to the object. No matter how good or bad they were.

A few depressing thoughts started to seep in his mind before he promptly kicked them out.

Hell no , that’s enough emotions for today. 

His hand found itself wrapping around the vine. He released the harshest of tugs as he forced himself to zone back into reality. He was pulled upward, but the attempt was slow and weak. 

He couldn’t tell if it was because of Morro’s weight or if the guard was taken by surprise, but either way, the raven felt pity. With a flick of a wrist, the wind lifted him upward. Combined with the continuous pull on the vine, Morro resurfaced in seconds.

He gasped, only then realizing how clearer the air was compared to the stifling atmosphere of the weird void. His arms shook weakly as he landed on the dirt, his body positioned as a mediocrity of a plank. Upon getting a handle on his breathing, he looked up.

Emerald eyes met ruby ones as the two boys both stared at each other. Morro could only imagine the sight he involuntarily painted himself as; his cheeks dry with tears, and the bags beneath his eyes looking heavier than before. Not to mention the newfound clarity that subtly shone through his face upon seeing the blond’s unmasked face again after they first interacted. His eyes lingered on the other’s right cheek.

Despite the scar slightly roughening up the side of his face, Hunter still looked so young and small . The reminder of what Morro witnessed beforehand threatened to make his stomach churn. 

He could have chalked the cause of the injury to some kind of training accident, Morro never witnessed the emperor actually laying a hand on the boy after all—but contrary to popular belief the raven wasn’t a fucking idiot. The moment the boy flinched from the ground at the sight of intimidating eyes fixated on him, the raven felt a weird sense of deja vu and felt his wind threaten to convert itself into a cyclone.

Still, he remained quiet. So did his wind.

He fully expected the guard to bombard him with questions about what happened. Though what he didn’t expect was a dazed statement.

“…I think that was because of the Abomination Ash.” Morro felt like the world dropped off of its axis for a second as he scrutinized the other in confusion.

“…what?”

“How the vortex swallowed you up like goo, it’s because of the Abomination Ash.”

Morro blinked upon realizing what the blond was insinuating, and frankly, he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. A mix of both his exasperation and exhaustion allowed the raven to let go of his own dignity for a second as he face-planted into the dirt. 

But for once, when a hesitant hand was offered to him, Morro took it.

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There it was again. The silence. It would have made sense since they were back at the library—but considering the events that happened prior, this type of quiet felt unnerving.

Morro had his chin placed on one palm, his posture appearing bored with an underlying tension present in the way he had set his shoulders. He tapped a quiet rhythm on the wooden table as he sneaked a glance at his companion who sat across from him.

To his surprise, the guard hadn’t immediately worn the mask the moment he had returned it. 

Instead, Hunter merely placed the object on the table and stared holes into it. It seemed that the guard saw no use in wearing it, but it also looked like he wasn’t planning to look Morro in the eyes any time soon. The blond’s hands were hidden beneath the table, but judging by the foreign anxious aura currently surrounding him, it was a safe assumption that he was fidgeting with them on his lap. 

Despite the silence that had served as an uncomfortable blanket placed upon them, the guard wasn’t in a hurry to break through it. He didn’t even bother to begin his interrogation when this was the best time to do so.

This painted a picture that Morro had already suspected, but knowing and seeing it for himself were two completely different things. It took him a minute to associate the arrogant, determined Golden Guard with this nervous, exhausted wreck of a teenager. A mask, Morro realized. A separation between the persona he had built for himself, and the teenage angst lumped on the blond’s shoulders like heavy weights. (No doubt caused by a single man.)

Finally, after what felt like hours, Hunter cleared his throat. 

(Which was the right time to do so considering Morro was one flicked wrist away from throwing hands at a certain ruler. Whether or not he was projecting or genuinely cared for the boy was a thought that remained untouched.)

“I… I’m sorry.” Morro paused. Of all the words that would have broken the silence, those were ones he least expected.

“…for what?” The blond bit his lip, and for the third time that night, magenta eyes stared directly at Morro’s.

“Judging by how you tugged at the vine rather harshly, the portal didn’t work. You didn’t end up in Ninjago.” Hiding the relief he felt at indeed not ending up there, Morro shook his head before giving a verbal confirmation.

“I didn’t.” He then furrowed his brow, “And you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I was about to cut it.” The response sounded like Morro’s last statement was ignored, causing him to voice out his confusion.

“What?”

“You took a while so I thought that I would have to cut it myself. I…” Hunter sighed before steeling his resolve, “From my perspective, the substance of the portal devoured you. I wasn’t even sure if the vine was still attached to anyone. I had thought that you completely disappeared or—worse.” Which was rather disappointing. 

Though perhaps expressing said thought wasn’t the best decision judging by how Hunter appeared to look guilty for reasons unknown to the raven. Morro tried not to show a visible reaction aside from biting his lip and nodding in understanding at the logical assumption. But it looked like the other wasn’t done talking.

“After everything we did, I was certain that the portal would work but—“ Morro’s previously blank face scrunched up in an ‘I’m done with this.’ expression once he realized where this was going. (He of all people should know, he already had this exact train of thought.) He then held up a hand to cut the other off.

“But nothing. We had already expressed our doubts in achieving this at the first attempt. We just need to retrace our steps and figure out what went wrong. This isn’t your fault.” The tone was firm but not unkind, and it seemed to get through to Hunter as he slumped into a less tense manner—as if he fully expected a reprimand for ‘failing’. Damn it all . 

And Morro thought he had issues. Then suddenly this cocky, stupidly annoying blond teenager started to wrench his way into his life, Morro accidentally witnessed a memory he knew he wasn’t supposed to see, and here they were. The other boy looked like a pathetic puppy with no one but Morro as a sad excuse of comfort. 

Inwardly, he flipped off Destiny.

Outwardly, Morro forced himself to give a small smile—if it looked like a grimace, he tried his fucking best. But judging by how Hunter coughed to himself before looking away, he must have noticed the sudden awkwardness that descended on them. Before Morro could try to divert the conversation, Hunter beat him to it.

“So, what happened in there?” Morro carefully kept his face blank, hiding the pure exhaustion he felt at even the mere mention of the void. 

“Nothing I expected.” The raven’s tone was clipped. If he was asked for the truth, he would rather avoid this conversation altogether. But that would just make him a coward and the stubborn guard would just demand for answers so Morro pushed through, “The portal brought me to some kind of void. An endless expanse of the weird substance the vortex was composed of.” Hunter shook his head in bewilderment.

“That… that’s it?” Morro debated whether or not he should reveal what happened in the void before ultimately deciding that he owed the blond something.

“Well… the place felt… alive somehow.” The blond tilted his head in confusion and intrigue.

“…how come?” 

“It seemed to cover the objects I brought with the weird substance and the world shifted to display some kind of memory. I had initially thought it was a way to reveal the origins of the object but now I’m starting to think that wasn’t the case.” Throughout the explanation, Morro mostly pondered on his thoughts aloud, not bothering to filter them. Which was why he didn’t notice anything wrong with what he said until Hunter pointed it out. 

“Objects?” Morro scoffed but it was half-hearted. 

“You’re forgetting that your mask fell into the vortex with me, blondie.” Hunter stiffened.

“…and what were you saying about memories?” Morro tried not to frown as he looked away.

“Based on what I saw, I think the void intended to manifest the memories that were most associated with the object.” Hunter tensed further before questioning with gritted teeth.

“And what did you see?” Morro side-eyed the other and spoke carefully.

“From your mask? I just saw your little ceremony of you becoming the Golden Guard.” 

Hunter visibly relaxed and formed a grin, as if proud upon remembering that specific memory. The implication of such a reaction strongly hinted that the momentous event wasn’t the memory that first came to the guard’s mind. But Morro stayed quiet.

He patiently waited for the other to continue the conversation. The blond didn’t disappoint.

“And… What did you see from your object? It was a piece of paper, right?” Morro kept himself from taking a sharp intake of breath, taken aback by the question. On instinct, he felt his stoic face slowly form a scowl with a defensive statement at the tip of his tongue before pausing. 

He witnessed something he was never supposed to see, and Hunter was none the wiser. The blond saw nothing. 

Knew nothing.

Morro bit his lip and mentally groaned at himself before biting out a response. 

“It was a drawing. From my childhood. The world showed my younger self making it for someone.” There was silence for a few moments. Silently hating the sudden vulnerability, Morro risked a glance toward the blond. 

The raven blinked owlishly upon seeing the other’s softened expression. 

“…did they like it?” Morro bit his lip before looking away.

“Yeah… I guess he did.” Hunter nodded before mumbling ‘good’ under his breath. He looked away, as if remembering a memory himself. 

Morro couldn’t help but have his suspicions on what it was—considering he himself just shared a vague memory regarding the drawing—but without any warning, Hunter looked back at the other with a renewed determined expression.

“Do you think that the void was a realm?” This caused Morro to pause in thought (and surprise because this blond kept changing the subject out of nowhere).

“I’m… not sure. Why do you ask?” Hunter brightened.

“If that place was a realm, then we’re on the right track. If not, it’s still considered as some kind of world, isn’t it? Either way, we just have to modify our potion recipe. Perhaps replace the ingredients that may be connected to that place, utilize the ones you think are related to your realm, and we’ll be one step closer to getting you back.” 

Hunter barely gave pause as he furrowed his brows in thought and continued, “Based on what you have described, I believe the first one we’ll have to get rid of is Echoflower Essence. It’s a rare ingredient, you know, so it’s a bit disappointing that mixing it with the other ingredients didn’t mold its purpose into something we wanted—assuming it’s the main reason you got into the, uh, memory-realm-thing. Maybe we could—“

As the blond continued to speak, Morro sighed through half-lidded eyes. While he appeared bored on the exterior, he listened quietly with no intention of interrupting the other. Because of course. 

He should have predicted that his prompting would just encourage a never-ending ramble—but compared to the guard’s other rants, this one was different. 

The obvious being the absence of the guard’s mask.

Meaning the sheer joy in his growing smile, and the pure passion being ignited in his eyes whenever he discussed matters like magic theory was displayed to the world. Morro suspected this was the case, considering that after being subjected to occurrences such as these for the past few weeks, he learned to correctly detect the blond’s enjoyment in their research sessions. Hunter didn’t need to remove his mask in order for Morro to discern the type of expression the other had in his face just by listening carefully to the other’s tone of voice.

But aside from that, it looked like the guard was more… free. His hand gestures weren’t restricted to stiff jerks, and instead flowed fluidly in front of him. And for once, he never halted his own speech. This must have been the longest instance where Hunter allowed himself to speak so openly without catching himself.

Morro’s gaze flicked down at the golden object for a brief moment. He returned his gaze to the blond with newfound understanding.

There was something constricting about masks, wasn’t there? 

He barely had a chance to add his own input into the conversation before he bluntly pointed out that the sun was already rising. In response, Hunter snatched the mask from the table and disappeared in a flash of red without another word. He must have realized how much he had spoken to the point that he had kept himself in the library for another hour.

Morro shook his head to himself exasperatingly. 

And if anyone pointed out that there was a hint of fondness in the action, he’ll take them to a grave alongside him. 

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Attempt 2 Notes : 

• Boiling Sea Salt and Ember Puff Fur was a recipe for a forest fire. 

• Wind makes flames spread faster—so do not pressure a wind elementalist into using his powers unless you want to get blown away yourself, *ahem* Hunter *ahem*.

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Attempt 3 Notes : 

• Coffee is not a reliable substitute for Wu’s Traveler’s Tea.

• Coffee should not be within Hunter’s five-feet vicinity.

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Attempt 4 Notes :

• Do not trust Hunter with mixing the moment his eyes are half-lidded. Next time, knock him the fuck back to sleep.

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Attempt 5 Notes :

• Hunter’s staff is not equivalent to a magic wand. 

• The staff’s blasts hurt like absolute hell. 

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Scratch that, he can dig himself an early grave all on his own if it meant that he didn’t need to deal with this . 

Morro had already developed a certain routine with the Golden Guard. They were both aware of it, and they stuck with it. The thoughtful food offerings, the rapid exchange of magic ideas, the shitty sleep schedules—they were well-accustomed to them by now. Especially since this had been going on for more than a month. Except something changed as well. 

And Morro was embarrassed to admit that most of them originated from his side. 

Ever since that night , the raven started subconsciously enhancing his observation skills beyond mere instinct and started noticing other telltale signs that served as pieces to the puzzle known as ‘Hunter: The Golden Guard’. 

The first piece was that the blond would subconsciously place a hand on his stomach without realizing. Morro had thought it was due to a stomachache and that the other simply ignored it. But judging by the frequency of the action no matter how many nights had already passed, it may not have been the case. 

His question was then answered when in the middle of chewing a generous portion of Fickleberries, a tiny growl was heard in the library. 

Hunter buried his head in a book. 

Morro swallowed his berry before quietly offering a handful to the other.

Since then, he stubbornly refused food offerings unless the guard ate with him. The first few attempts were met with equal levels of stubbornness on both sides, but in the end, the raven was silently declared the victor and their one-sided meals soon turned into quiet ones with a comfortable silence held between them. The guard started looking more functional.

Another puzzle piece was that one time Morro performed an experiment of ignorance by not waking his companion up when the latter accidentally fell asleep. While the guard eventually woke up on his own and glared at the raven with flushed cheeks, he looked a hundred times more awake. Morro continued performing the said ‘curious experiment’.

The last main puzzle piece was that Hunter tried wearing his mask a few more times before removing it altogether whenever he came to the library. Morro tried not to point it out—especially when it gave him a better view of how the guard felt that day without a disguise. (Morro loathed to admit how nice it felt for someone to be more straight with him for once.)

Some nights he had a smug grin indicating either a successful mission or praise from the emperor (Morro would be suspiciously quiet when the guard offhandedly mentioned the latter). 

Some nights, Hunter looked like he took a hike on a steep mountain that reached the heights of the sky before the exhausted expression would be replaced by relief at the sight of Morro reading in their usual spot. 

Other nights (though they were the rarest ones), Hunter looked pissed. 

Those were the nights that Morro noticed would always divert their focus because the blond took it upon himself to express the rationality of his frustrations through detailed narratives of whatever irritated him that day.

This was one of those nights. 

“I mean—can you believe it? She already proved her incapability to carry out the simplest of tasks—yet somehow she not only managed to gain back the emperor’s favor, but also took over a mission I was supposed to be in charge of from behind my back? I cleared up my schedule for that mission and thanks to her, I barely have anything to do for the next couple of days!” Hunter gritted his teeth as he paused his pacing. Morro had one hand placed on his open book, and his other one holding up his chin as he watched the blond with a bored expression. 

“Isn’t that a good thing?” The raven didn’t even blink when the guard suddenly directed a scowl at him. 

“No! That’s too much free time for me to do with. I had already finished the paperwork required of me, and I already gave the new scouts separate assignments outside of our training—it would last them a week at most. I don’t— why would she even—“ And there he goes again. Ranting about Kiki-something.

Morro slumped further into his seat as he willfully tuned out the other and tried redirecting his gaze back to his book. He never thought the guard would ever be this expressive—but of course, the blond just loved surprising him. 

The raven had mixed feelings though, upon realizing that perhaps after a month and a half of researching and performing a couple more failed attempts together, they managed to grow comfortable with one another’s presence. Morro managed to release a truckload of sarcastic quips without the unease of potentially getting killed in the process, and Hunter spoke significantly more paragraphs than during their first night together. 

Though it would be much appreciated if Hunter learned to keep it down considering they were inside a library.

A soft click was heard from the other side of the room.

Morro looked up from his book.

Hunter went quiet. 

Without needing an instruction, Morro immediately abandoned their work table and basically threw himself behind the nearest bookshelf. (Using his wind, he barely caught himself from landing on his ankle.)

Hunter swiftly grabbed his mask and wore it before sitting back down on his chair, illustrating a portrait of a diligent young guard indulging himself in his work table full of books. The doors creaked open and closed, while the blond’s gaze remained fixated on his books to appear absorbed by the text before him; an attempt to silently convince whoever entered to leave him alone.

Morro watched from his hiding spot, and listened carefully as footsteps echoed, indicating the stranger’s movement. As the figure immediately headed towards their table, Morro realized that the person that entered was a—what was it called again? Ah—a coven scout. He wondered if Hunter knew this specific one considering that their uniforms all looked the same.

“Hey, Golden Guard, sir.” Hunter perked up. 

“Oh—Steve! What brings you here?” Well, Morro got his answer. The coven scout— Steve appeared to sheepishly run the back of his neck.

“I was just passing by the library when I heard a bit of yelling from here. Figured there’s nothing wrong with checking it out. Is everything okay?” A beat of silence. Morro briefly wondered if this would trigger the guard to rant all over again and considered sitting himself down on the floor to get comfortable. 

“Well I was… engaging myself in a small debate on the best methods of counteracting wild magic. I do apologize if the yelling brought you any concern, I’ll try to be more quiet.” Hunter said in a firm manner, figuring that his lie made sense. 

Morro tried not to face-palm. 

Steve must have felt similar as he quickly looked around as if not believing they were the only people there.

“Right… and who exactly were you debating with?” A few more beats of silence that threatened the people in the room to wince uncomfortably.

“Myself?” And—Yep, Morro couldn’t hold back a quiet facepalm this time.

“…Well, I’m glad you’re so engaged, kid.” From the raven’s position he still managed to hear the blond let out a scoff as he looked back down at his book.

“I’m not a kid.” Steve chuckled genuinely and Morro couldn’t help but wonder for a brief moment whether or not the workaholic golden guard actually had a friend in this cold place.

“Right, sorry.” Steve placed a hand on his hip, “Anywho, it seems that I had nothing to worry about so I’ll let you get back to your debate, sir.  I’ll see ya at the Covention!” Hunter appeared to pause before looking up from his book.

“I—Steve wait!”

“Hm?”

“What are you talking about?” Steve tilted his head in confusion.

“The Covention? I heard Lilith was supposed to represent the Emperor’s coven this year but something came up. You were supposed to take her place right?” Hunter froze momentarily before clearing his throat.

“…I see.”  

“Well, I’ll be going now. See ya when I see ya Golden Guard, sir.” A few footsteps and a clicked door later, two people were left in the library. Morro floated out of his hiding place and promptly sat back down at his seat. 

Hunter slowly removed his mask, revealing a surprised expression as he slowly looked up at Morro. Said raven raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“What is it now?”

“She never told me.”

“What?”

“Lilith never told me about this—and the Covention is the day after tomorrow. Did she not want me to prepare?” Hunter sounded annoyed, and for good reason. Morro already knew he would have blown a fuse the moment he discovered someone basically dumped their responsibility on him on such short notice. He hummed to himself in contemplation for the cause of the woman’s actions, before rolling his eyes, the answer a bit too obvious to him. 

He emphasized it by simply returning to his book without sparing the other a glance.

“Maybe she was planning to tell you at the last second? You did annoy her a while ago, didn’t you?” 

“…that petty witch.” Morro tried not to snort.

“ Please , as if you don’t act petty yourself.” Hunter huffed, but didn’t bother to refute it as he suddenly perked up, stars sparkling in his eyes and everything. Morro already knew

“Hey. You should come with me.” Morro looked up, staring at the blond from the corner of his eye.

“What?”

“You could come with me. This could be your chance to witness magic firsthand.” Morro pretended to think about it before shaking his head.

“No. That would mean I would have to sneak out of here, stay hidden in the public, then sneak back in. Besides, I already deal with magic during our late-night experiments.” The raven shrugged. Hunter, surprisingly, grinned in response.

“Potion magic may still be magic, but it’s not the only one. I am a firm believer that books are beacons of knowledge. But so far, our attempts at potions and spells are—“

“Shit?”

“…unsuccessful. From what I heard, the Covention always upholds a variety of magical displays. Maybe one of them could reveal alternatives to getting you back. Witnessing these demonstrations firsthand can help with research.” Morro tried not to appear hooked but he was slowly starting to feel a bit interested. He still had one argument though.

“Did you not hear my point of having to sneak out of here without getting caught?” Hunter hummed before speaking, although sounding a bit hesitant.

“I’ll take care of it.” 

Morro sighed before nodding. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll give it a shot. But the moment I find the place a waste of my time, I’m leaving you behind.”

It was Hunter’s turn to sigh. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.” A few moments passed before the blond formed an annoyed expression and groaned. 

“Titan, I just realized I have to formulate a speech.” Hunter said before picking up his book, muttering silent insults regarding a certain coven head. 

Morro rolled his eyes. But this time, he couldn’t stop himself from forming a tiny smile on his face.

Chapter Text

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter held in a groan as he ran a hand across the piece of parchment to smoothen the crumpled edges his anxious hands had managed to create, his other one still tightly gripping upon a pen that was quickly running out of ink.

It made sense. A pen can only hold so much ink. 

Said ink filled up three whole sheets of paper, back-to-back. The thought itself made him groan. (And briefly consider that perhaps he was going a bit overboard—but there was no such thing when it came to being a member of the Emperor’s coven!)

Admittedly, he wouldn’t have panicked this much if he was given more time to prepare. 

For the entirety of the day, he didn’t spare much thought to the Covention since he was preoccupied with his own obligations to uphold. 

But the happy adrenaline from those duties disappeared when Lilith offhandedly reminded him that evening regarding his representation in the event with a smug smile. 

Obviously, Hunter answered with an equally smug response but he also simultaneously felt his soul ascend for a brief moment.

Yes, as the right-hand man, he had been tasked with delivering speeches and delivering short announcements from the emperor himself multiple times—but he had never been given the job to practically advertise the coven before. 

That was Head Lilith’s specialty. While the guard would hate to admit it, the witch had a certain charisma and intrigue that had easily drawn the attention of numerous witches into joining. Why else would she be chosen to be the face of the Emperor’s Coven?

Hunter believed he was fully capable of interacting with other witches, but sometimes he couldn’t help but notice how weird it was that there were a few stilted moments whenever he tried to strike up conversation with other scouts. He would have been stupid to also not realize that his inability to strike casual conversation with them may translate into greater failure when trying to garner the attention of witches outside the coven.

So here he was, trying to cram a speech that he’s supposed to recite in a few hours.

On the bright side, he didn’t appear to be the only one having to endure acquiring hand cramps.

At some point, the raven had returned to the abandoned pen and notebook weeks prior, and basically adopted them as if they were his own. Though Morro refused to show the ones written on the back page, he occasionally showed his own theories involving potion magic (and sigil usage, but Hunter willfully ignored them). The raven’s handwriting was surprisingly just as messy as the blond’s, if not a bit messier—as if this was the first time he had ever held a pen. 

If it didn’t sound so insulting in his head, Hunter would have pointed it out and asked. But he didn’t have the heart to do so. 

Not when Morro had a soft smile when immersed in his writing, as if he was in his own world.

Hunter then tried to snap out of his musings and go back to writing his speech.

“Hear me out.” The guard peeked up just to meet the unamused gaze of said raven who spoke moments after swallowing another green Fickleberry.

“What.” Morro raised an eyebrow at the blond’s openly irritated tone but didn’t comment on it. Instead, “I think you’re overreacting.”  Hunter scoffed in response.

“I’m reacting with an appropriate amount.” 

“Mhm. Sure.” Hunter didn’t bother dignifying the blatant sarcasm with a response, allowing the other to continue with a sigh. “You’re thinking too hard about this. It’s a speech about your coven. This would be the easiest job you’d ever have.” 

This should have been the part where Hunter would agree wholeheartedly with as much confidence as he could muster. Instead, he allowed a flicker of doubt to seep into his next response, “And what makes you so sure?”

“You wax poetry about your job at least twice a week, idiot. As long as you don’t make it too boring or anything, you’ll be fine.” Morro didn’t even miss a beat in his response as his gaze remained fixed on his notebook, his right hand busy with his own writing. 

The guard felt his chest swell with pride upon hearing that his loyalty to the coven was indeed expressed so openly—maybe he really didn’t have anything to worry about.

“You’re right! Besides, I’m a teenager, just like the rest of them. I could be using this to my advantage. I’m sure witches my age love authority. And rules! I could even share my experience of one instance when my staff malfunctioned and I had to walk down a mountain with a fractured leg.” 

Completely oblivious to the barely concealed shocked expression on Morro’s face, Hunter sighed with a cheeky grin, “Now that’s a lesson I’ll never forget. Those were good times.” The blond tried not to raise an eyebrow when a brief flicker of skepticism and rage flashed against the raven’s features—to what, the guard didn’t know. But it appeared that the blond’s momentary confusion didn’t go unnoticed as Morro simply reverted his expression to one of disbelief.

“…on second thought, maybe stick with less speaking and more magic.” Hunter scoffed before motioning towards the raven’s general direction. 

“Yeah? And what would you know about this kind of stuff?” Morro—predictably—rolled his eyes.

“More than you, probably.” Before Hunter could get the chance to retort, the raven snapped his notebook shut and side-eyed the guard, “I’m serious. People usually don’t have a good attention span. The moment you go on a tangent about something uninteresting, they’ll block you out.”

“Then what do you suggest I do? Not give a speech?”

“Keep it short and simple. Introduce your coven in the least number of words, and let your magic display do the rest. Show them what they could aspire to be.” Hunter mulled over that in his head for a few seconds before a grin slowly formed on his face, his hands eagerly crumpling the sheets of paper before him. (He never believed that he could memorize all that anyway—at least now he didn’t need to!) 

The guard then turned to look at Morro. 

“How do you know so much about this anyway? Did you inspire a lot of people back where you’re from?” The blond half-joked, but Morro wasn’t amused. In fact, the edge of his lip twitched downward for a moment, as if he barely refrained himself from forming a frown. 

“When I was a child, I practiced doing things like that in preparation for… something.” Hunter tilted his head questioningly.

“What do you mean by—“

“When does the Covention start anyway?” Hunter huffed at the obvious attempt of deflection but he let it slide for now.

“It starts a few hours before midday. But we’re expected to leave the castle at sunrise.”

“And I’m coming with you, right?” Hunter raised an eyebrow at the other’s hesitant tone, as if he only just realized the gravity of him leaving the castle. Said ‘gravity’ was something the blond wanted to question but he simply provided a confirmation.

“Yes.”

“And how exactly? You never did clear that up?” Morro asked with a huff as he crossed his arms. Hunter bit his lip before picking up his staff that leaned against the table beside him. With a red flash, a folded bundle of fabric appeared in his grasp before he placed it on the table. The raven’s attention snapped towards it, and understanding dawned on his features.

“You’re giving me your stupid uniforms?” Hunter scoffed before he could help it. 

“One, they’re not stupid. Two, yes, you’ll be disguising as a coven scout in order to leave the castle without suspicion.”

“Ah, so I can ditch the cape—“ “It’s not a cape!” “—and armor once we arrive at the Covention, then?” Hunter’s gaze momentarily flicked towards the raven’s clothes with a barely concealed grimace. 

“If you’re willing to look homeless, sure.” Though Hunter wouldn’t let the other abandon the uniform if he could help it. It was a complete coincidence that one of the coven scouts decided to use their day off in order to accompany their younger sister to the Covention. It would be a shame if Hunter failed to return it to its rightful owner (especially when he ‘borrowed’ it from said owner in the first place). 

Morro, appearing offended, opened his mouth as if ready to retort before he paused, looked down at his clothes, and shrugged as he looked back up. 

“Better than being mistaken for an actual guard. I swear, if someone approaches me for directions or something, I’ll pretend I’m deaf.” Against his better judgment, Hunter chuckled. 

“That may be the smart decision. You might accidentally lead a potential recruit to the Tiny Cat Coven instead.” Morro raised an incredulous eyebrow at that. 

“That exists?” Hunter simply shrugged.

“From what I heard, yes.” While the raven was presumably still processing the fact that there was a coven dedicated to small cats, the blond crumpled his last sheet of paper with a sigh before opening the book closest to him. “I would also like to apologize that my panic had kept me from helping you until now. It was irresponsible of me, and the action may have stemmed from a bit of immaturity on my part.” 

The guard felt himself internally wilt as he watched the raven scoff, but to his surprise, the other meant it differently. 

“Don’t apologize for that. You have your own duties to worry about.”

“But I should have—“

“I don’t care what you should or shouldn’t be doing. But I can see what you’re doing right now, which is sparing some time just to assist me. You know what else could help? Stop apologizing for stupid things, and kindly shut the fuck up.” 

He’s used to the twinge of hurt when he’s told to quiet down, but for an unknown reason he didn’t feel at least a bit offended? (Most likely because he was more used to being told to shut up with his excuses instead of his apologies—sometimes even one apology wasn’t enough.)

With that, Hunter couldn’t prevent the dumbfounded expression that found itself on his face. 

Morro, on the other hand, appeared vaguely satisfied that the other was brought to silence, before he re-opened both his notebook and the library book at his side, and resumed his theorization. 

Hunter couldn’t do anything but join him, reading his own book. 

For the next few minutes, a comfortable silence descended upon them. Even the silent offers of Fickleberries from the raven was only received with a silent ‘thank you’ before they continued their individual studies. Of course, it didn’t last very long.  

Hunter turned the next page and immediately did a sharp intake of breath. The sound caught the attention of his companion, and within seconds he managed to float behind Hunter and peek over his shoulder, “What is it? Anything useful?” 

Hunter knew the exact moment Morro saw the page as the latter released his own gasp. The Golden Guard tried to close the book shut. Unfortunately, the wind elementalist was faster as he snatched the book and buried his awestruck face within the pages. 

“Sweet Serpentine—this is it.” 

Despite Hunter’s hasty attempts to grab the book back, the raven merely dodged them as he easily kept the book out of the other’s reach. In doing so, Morro managed to flip through a few more pages, paused, and immediately grabbed a sheet of parchment from his cloak (Wait, isn’t that—) and placed it on the open book.

“This is the book where the page was ripped from. The page that had the symbols. This is it! I’ve been creating incomplete theories but this could finally give me the answers I nee—“

A blast was released before Hunter even realized he fired.

The book was flung across the room and hit the wall before roughly landing on the floor. The object gained a gaping hole in the center, its edges lined with charred black. Morro was stunned by the sight before he turned to Hunter.

Who looked equally stunned as he seemed to realize what exactly he had done, his hands guiltily gripping upon the hilt of his artificial staff. It wasn’t that hard to guess what just happened. Out of sheer panic, he hadn’t even thought before ruining what was most likely the only surviving source of information regarding sigils.

Predictably, Morro was not happy. 

“Are you serious? What the fuck is your—!” This was the first time Morro ever raised his voice even slightly. So when he took a step forward, Hunter immediately took two steps back. 

The raven paused before taking a step back as well. He stared at the blond with an unreadable expression, the anger melting into an annoyance that was significantly less potent. Noticing that Hunter angled his staff towards him in a defensive manner, Morro relaxed his stance. Having nothing better to do, he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

The next time the raven spoke, it was more tired than frustrated.

“Your paranoia doesn’t even make sense. Is it worth it if it nearly earned me a blast to the hand?” Not noticing the blond’s guilt starting to appear on his face, Morro continued, “ We talked about this before. You go on and on about wild magic—hell, you sound like you love it half the time. So why keep pretending? Why do you keep cutting me off from my leads when they’re already so limited?” Morro finished with a huff before swiftly returning to his seat. Hunter watched quietly as the other continued writing on his notebook, but his grip on the pen was noticeably harder. 

The guard watched for a few moments before allowing his staff to lean against the table once more. But that was the only movement he did. 

He couldn’t bring himself to sit back down, the thick tension still in the air causing his legs to freeze in place. His mind was racing; a pathetic attempt to unravel everything that just happened piece by piece. 

He tried so hard to filter his words when speaking to the other—especially since the guard himself was the one who proposed not bringing wild magic into the equation. But it turned out that he failed. He never realized he brought up wild magic himself on numerous occasions—but apparently, it was enough times that even Morro noticed. 

Yet he always turned the other down when he was the one who spoke about wild magic.

That made Hunter sound like a hypocrite. 

He had destroyed the only book in the library that might have helped. Not even documented the information before doing so—just blasted it on instinct. All because he thought he was protecting Morro. Yet instead of shielding him, Hunter had only made him angrier. 

But was it truly anger?  

The only outcome of being the cause of someone’s anger was Hunter getting hurt.

Yet the moment he flinched back, Morro backed down. Was it truly anger if the guard remained unscathed? Or perhaps it had to do with the fact they were of the same age? 

Maybe authority figures were the only individuals permitted to perform a righteous punishment to those who have angered them. Yes, perhaps that was it. 

Maybe that was why Morro succeeded in calming himself down, he had a great motivation to do so. Hurting Hunter would only be a one-way ticket to the Conformatorium anyway, so one can admire the raven for his self-restraint. Holding back his anger on the matter was a smart decision. 

Albeit an undeserving one—judging by how Morro still appeared annoyed, and Hunter still felt guilty. Why did he feel guilty? 

Ah, because he was supposed to be helping Morro—yet all he managed to do so far is a handful of complete failures and crushing the other’s hope at even the mere idea of another way to get back to his realm. His home. Titan, Hunter knew it was the right thing to keep the other from resorting to wild magic, but was it really the best decision—?

“If you think any louder, you’ll get a book to the face, mark my words.”  

Hunter blinked, and realized that Morro had been staring at him. Probably for a while now. 

Ignoring the embarrassed flush in the tips of his ears, he slowly approached the raven. Said raven appeared suspicious, before it was replaced by surprise when the guard did a small bow. Not low enough to deem the other as superior, but enough that it portrayed a good amount of respect and earnestness.

“I apologize for upsetting you. I agree that your anger was valid, considering your predicament, but please understand that I refuse to perform wild magic considering the dangers of doing so. Therefore, that extends to you as well. I promised to help you, and that includes preventing any harm upon you until you get back.” Hunter stopped himself from scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, 

“Though I do admit that blasting the book wasn’t the best way to do it, especially since you have been hurt by my staff before and the book was in your hand. You have every right to be defensive. I can only ask that you understand how sorr—“  

“FSM, stand up, blondie.” Hunter obeyed, standing as straight as a rod, subtly preparing for a blow. Morro didn’t move from where he sat, instead crossing his arms and huffing. 

“While I appreciate the apology—which, good job, you now know when an apology is actually in order—you’re acting like you killed my ancestors or something. Calm down.” Hunter refused to relax, afraid what would happen the moment he let his guard down. But when it appeared that Morro wasn’t planning on speaking until the guard calmed down, he forcefully released most of the tension in his shoulders. The raven took that as his cue to continue.

“I’ll be honest. I was annoyed. Maybe a bit mad for a few seconds.” Hunter winced, preparing for the worst. Instead, Morro sighed, “But that doesn’t mean I should have snapped at you like that. And for that, I’m sorry too.” 

“But… you didn’t snap at me.” Morro looked at the other incredulously before scoffing.

“I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but you didn’t hurt me.” Morro stiffened.

“And why would I do that?”

“Well… you were mad. And I figured—“ 

“If I hit you over some book then I’d be an asshole.” Hunter shifted on his feet. That must have been a telling sign that he was unconvinced by the statement, and it didn’t go unnoticed as Morro suddenly stood up, his stance tense but firm.

“You understand what I meant, right? No one has the right to lay a hand on you, and that includes me.” The raven took a step forward, careful not to spook the blond with the movement. When Hunter remained unflinching—most likely due to shock—Morro looked at the blond dead in the eye. “If anyone tries to do so, you fight back.”

The statement should be harmless. 

Hunter is the Golden Guard, it’s a given that during combat, you give it your all. If they hit you, you hit them back. Simple as that.

Yet there was something in the other’s gaze that made him pause, realizing that wasn’t what the raven meant. There was a glint of knowing in Morro’s eyes, and Hunter felt unease creeping up his spine because what did Morro know?

Except it was gone before Hunter could dwell on it any further.

The twinkle of knowing and seriousness vanished from Morro’s pupils, his face appearing calmer as he took a step back, and placed a casual hand on his side. A position he does whenever he’s about to release a sarcastic remark towards the guard’s direction.

For a brief moment, the abrupt change in the raven’s demeanor threatened Hunter to either be on the defensive or laugh hysterically. 

“I don’t take back anything I said about your paranoia, by the way. Whether or not you’ll help me, I refuse to not consider every possible solution.” Hunter was about to blow a fuse that the subject matter was redirected so carelessly, but if he was honest to himself, he didn’t want to return to that conversation either. So, instead:

“But there must have been a reason that the page with the symbols was ripped from the book in the first place. It could have been dangerous. And wild magic is—“

“—dangerous? Yes, you mentioned that. However, what makes you so sure that sigils are wild magic? If they were, shouldn’t that book be in the restricted section?” Hunter went silent, deep in thought. Morro kept pushing; 

“Not only that—you said it yourself, the number one hater of wild magic introduced the ‘alarm’ to his entire coven. An alarm that is a sigil itself. For all we know, sigils are unclassified and are not wild magic.” Morro finished with a raised eyebrow. Hunter huffed, still not willing to risk it despite the compelling logic of the arguments.

(And maybe he didn’t want to give into the possibility that his cautiousness was for nothing if ever that was the case.) 

After a few moments of silence, and having nothing better to say, Hunter nodded hesitantly. Morro appeared satisfied with the mute response as he simply looked outside the window. 

Hunter followed the other’s gaze, and he realized that just a tiny bit of orange was starting to peek out from the horizon. Knowing this was the time to leave, he grabbed the bundle of coven scout clothing before handing it over to the raven.

Morro took it, but his gaze was set on Hunter. After what felt like being scrutinized like a tiny insect for a few moments, the raven formed a grin.

“So, ready to blow them all away?” The question was said jokingly, a bit of a twinkle present in the raven’s eyes reassuring the blond that the tension faded, if not completely gone. Hunter couldn’t help but form his own grin, a hint of relief present in it.  

“Obviously.” Morro chuckled a bit as he wore the coven scout uniform over his own clothes.

(Morro insisted he didn’t want to change out of his current ones. Which was probably not a good idea, but who was Hunter to judge?)

 Despite it being a rough estimate whether or not the clothing would fit the raven, it somehow covered him perfectly. The mask wasn’t too big, the cloak wasn’t that loose, and the armor didn’t appear too bulky as it looked snug against the raven’s frame. 

“How do you guys see with these masks?” Morro questioned as Hunter wore his own mask. Said blond shrugged before responding:

“Maybe you just need better vision.” The scout-in-disguise turned towards the blond’s direction. While the former’s mask covered his face, Hunter could already imagine the glare heading his way. 

And with that, their usual bickering returned. Even as they started to clean up their things until their work table became an organized surface of stacked books and papers, they kept exchanging banter until it was time for them to go. 

(The entire time, Hunter still felt guilty. If he became the reason the other couldn’t go home sooner, then he only hoped that the trip to the Covention would amount to something useful.)

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

The Golden Guard was the epitome of calm and collected as his stance portrayed no signs of discomfort. His back was rod-straight, and his gloved-hands were neatly tucked behind his back. 

To outside perspectives, he was simply watching the clouds float past as their airship flew steadily across the sky. Or perhaps planning his course of action for the rest of the day like a diligent representative of the coven.

However, behind the mask, Hunter felt his heart beating a mile a minute as he wondered how Morro was doing. 

They had been separated after all.

Earlier, they had attempted to get a quick breakfast first. Morro was especially curious, since it would have been the first time where he managed to be outside the library without needing to worry about hiding. 

The moment they entered the dining hall, however, they noticed a few onlookers when Hunter was noticeably walking closely beside the other. Not in front of the other, with a bit of distance between them. Which should have been the case, considering he was superior.

Unsurprisingly, Morro noticed the attention and tried to slow down his hovering, which resulted in him accidentally bumping into another coven scout.

“Corvin! There you are! We were waiting for you at our table.” The scout greeted jovially, leaving Morro to noticeably freeze. 

“…excuse me?” Hunter tried not to gather attention by attempting to hold in a snort at the raven’s attempt of making his voice sound deeper. 

“Don’t just stand there, dude. I know you got that dark, tall, and mysterious bit going on, but I know that stain on your cloak anywhere!” 

Huh. There is indeed a dark coffee stain on the side of the cloak. One that somehow took the rough shape of a bird feather.

(Hunter questioned whether or not his scouts ever did laundry.

Then realized he barely did his own laundry and abandoned that particular train of thought.)

One thing led to another, and before he knew it, Hunter was left standing alone in the middle of the hall while a begrudging Morro was dragged at a table and forced to interact with his “fellow” scouts without risking suspicion of following the Golden Guard for no reason.

The blond nearly laughed at the radiating discomfort as Morro was pulled down to sit at the table, the cheerful scout’s arm refusing to leave the raven’s shoulder.

He merely continued his way to the kitchen before requesting a small container of Fickleberries from the chef, to which the other happily obliged.

Hunter had a sneaking suspicion that the raven would refuse to eat in front of people he didn’t know. 

Exiting the kitchen, he fully expected himself to be proven correct when he noticed that a third of the scouts in the hall were already leaving, presumably to head to the airship scheduled to leave for the Covention. 

It appeared that Morro’s group was included, for the table where the raven had sat was now empty. 

Hunter resisted the strong urge to facepalm as he simply made his way to the airship as well, expecting that he’d just find the other once they’re all onboard. Which brings him back to the present. 

He fully expected that Morro would approach him the moment he arrived, but after five minutes of the ship being in the air, and there was still no one willing to stand by him, Hunter grew concerned. Where was he?

“Golden Guard, what a fine day to be in the air.” Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Playing along, Hunter kept his gaze forward, holding back a sigh of relief. “Did you eat?”

All he got as a response was unintelligible grumbling from his right, and that’s all he needed to know. Hunter snuck a hand beneath his cloak, before offering the small container of berries. Morro didn’t take it immediately.

“Did you eat?” Hunter didn’t respond.

Apparently, the silence was enough for Morro. The blond could practically hear the eyeroll. 

“Keep it. You’re the one who’ll woo the crowd or whatever. I’ll try and find something from the stalls once we get there.” The guard sighed, tucking the container back underneath his cloak. The two then proceeded to stand in silence. The background chatter of the rest of the scouts, and the gentle whoosh of the wind was enough to leave them content for the time being. 

That was until the raven broke the quiet, much to Hunter’s surprise. 

“The other scouts didn’t seem shocked when they saw me float a few inches above the ground instead of walking. Admired it, actually. Why is that?” Hunter hummed in contemplation before answering. 

“Magic can be draining, especially for long periods of time. So normal witches just walk or use their staff instead of using your own ‘magic’ to float around.” Hunter then paused, as if coming to a realization. “I never saw you walk before.” 

The raven scoffed. 

“Maybe I just didn’t want to tire out my legs.” Hunte hummed, not believing the other. 

“So you would rather tire yourself out? Assuming that it’s the same case for… elemental powers, don’t you get tired from floating as well?”

Morro remained quiet for a moment before letting out a reluctant sigh. “It’s… I…” a small groan. Hunter was about to suggest dropping the topic when the other finally found the words.

“Have you ever noticed my initial reaction to you giving me a pen and notebook?” Hunter blinked, but then nodded. It was one of the many confusions he had about the raven. 

“I never did ask why you reacted like that.” Morro hummed before responding. 

“I had trouble with writing.” Hunter raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding.

“Oh.” Well, it did look like you wrote something for the first time.

Oops. Judging by the muffled huff that escaped the raven, Hunter didn’t keep his thoughts to himself. He was glad that the mild insult didn’t make the other defensive, though.

“I had trouble with writing because it felt like I was writing for the first time.” While this explained why the other didn’t sound offended, it just solidified Hunter’s confusion. 

“I don’t follow.” Morro stayed quiet for a moment longer before shrugging.

“A complication occurred when I ended up here, so my body had some sort of… reset, you could say.” 

Hunter stayed quiet. Morro scoffed, but it was a futile attempt at hiding the small crack in his voice.

“It means it forgot how to do stuff, idiot.” The guard couldn’t stop himself from whipping his head towards the other’s direction in pure befuddlement, but Morro’s gaze resolutely kept forward. 

“I… but then how can you use your powers so effortlessly?”

“My powers aren’t a part of my body, they’re a part of my very being. It’s hard to forget something tied deeply to your soul.” Morro said fondly, before his tone turned bitter, “But ever since I appeared here, it felt like my body became a vessel where I have to relearn all its functions.” 

There was then a small silence that happened between them. Hunter pondered on the admission, twisting and turning the revelation within his analyzing mind, for it was something unheard of. He never considered the potential ramifications of accidental realm-travel, such as actions that individuals were taught to do from a very young age, were suddenly stripped from their body’s reflexive memory.

Then again, this was the first time he ever witnessed such an event occurring, so maybe the raven was being truthful. It was evident by how irritated Morro sounded upon admitting his small weakness. There was even an underlying moroseness in the way he articulated the words, as if mourning something he had lost. 

Which was reasonable.

Morro always gave off the hint of being experienced in combat, judging by the way he dodged Hunter’s blasts with ease during their first encounter. He wouldn’t be surprised if the other was capable of holding his own in a fight against at least two combatants with his speed and agility alone.

The guard could only imagine the disappointment of abruptly stooping down to such a level where you were unable to put one foot in front of the other without falling flat on your face.

…which then shed light on a question. 

“Why don’t you teach yourself how to walk again? You attempted to learn writing again, didn’t you?” Morro hummed noncommittingly.

“Writing was a hobby of mine that I haven’t indulged in for a long time. Walking… well, where I’m going, I just saw no reason to.” The initial frustration was gone from his voice. Instead, it was covered with a hollow, resigned tone, as if the raven genuinely believed his words. Which didn’t make any sense—‘Where I’m going’, he’s returning to Ninjago, so shouldn’t he relearn the basics of walking?

Hunter didn’t understand. 

He wanted to do so badly, but the raven was infuriatingly cryptic with his responses that the blond just desired to give up, knowing this line of questioning was useless.  

As if sensing the end of their conversation, the ship started its descent. They landed near an open area beside the event center where the Covention will take place. Every scout separated into groups once again, taking turns to step down from the ship. Hunter subtly parted ways with Morro as he stepped down first, prompting the rest of the scouts to follow as they all reached the entrance of the building. 

Upon entering, Hunter ignored the soft gasps of awe from behind him as they all observed the prepared decorations that sprinkled the entirety of the inside. While the guard had no reference to compare to, considering this was his first time to attend such an event, he was mildly impressed by everything. 

There was at least a hint of color in every corner, there was still a lot of space reserved for crowds to walk without the risk of bumping into one another, and most of all, each individual booth that represented each coven was attention-grabbing in its own way that there was no doubt that the witches this year would have a hard time picking one that best suited their interests. 

Hunter heard faint clanking originating from where the Construction Coven was at work, presumably adding the finishing touches to their own stall. 

Through his mask, he could even smell a warm aroma of fairy pie, honey-apples and a combination of other sweet treats from the Baking Coven that threatened to hypnotize a third of his scouts into tasting their delicacies. The guard merely hummed, turning around to face the others.

“Alright, you know what to do. Those who will be guarding the Emperor’s Coven display, proceed to the arena. Everyone else, scout the perimeter, and ensure nothing gets out of hand throughout the event. Try not to get too distracted.” Hunter aimed the last statement at the handful of scouts who looked ready to bolt towards the booths instead of performing their duty. 

The guard subtly shook his head in disappointment before taking a peek at the back of the group of scouts. Upon making eye contact with a specific coffee-stained individual, who gave a small nod, Hunter willed his staff to glow red and teleport himself, and his companion, into a small corner that he had seen amidst his prior observations of the place.  

Hunter wasted no time looking around. Upon seeing an empty box tucked to the side, he pointed directly at the object.

“You should drop the clothes in there before you explore the booths. It would appear suspicious if a coven scout was participating in activities outside the coven.” Morro shrugged before easily discarding the uniform and dropped them to the floor, revealing his own clothes. Hunter barely tried to hold back his grimace. 

“You should have borrowed a few clothes from me as well.”  

“And why is that?”

“I wasn’t lying when I said you look like a homeless person.” A scoff.

“Better than looking like a toddler. I bet your clothes don’t even fit me.”

“You’re not even that taller than me!”

“Keep dreaming, kid.” 

Hunter huffed exasperatingly as he raised a hand to his head. “Just don’t accidentally kill yourself while I’m gone.”

“No promises.” The guard could practically hear the grin that accompanied such a response. 

This caused Hunter to look up to reprimand the other only to be met with air. Beyond the secluded area he was in, there was a growing crowd where he couldn’t distinguish a certain raven. 

The blond sighed before willing his staff to teleport him to the dressing room backstage where he was informed to head to before the display. He observed the neutral color scheme of the room, a wide vanity on the side, and a comfortable-looking couch tucked into the corner. 

Hunter simply approached the vanity in order to ensure his mask wasn’t crooked. With a slight tilt, he nodded to himself before taking a step back. 

Within moments, his back met the wooden floor, his hands barely shielding his head from the impact. With a small groan, he sat up. His head snapped upwards for a few moments, before he relaxed upon confirming that he was alone. No one witnessed such a humiliating display. 

The guard huffed to himself, initially blaming his lack of awareness of his surroundings—fully denying his possible clumsiness—before his brows furrowed at the sight of the corner of one of the wooden planks sticking up, lightly, like something was wedged beneath. 

Curious, he bent to a crouch and slightly pulled the plank. Surprisingly, there was no resistance. 

He pulled further, and was greeted by the sight of an ordinary cardboard box. The top of the lid had small writing. Yet despite the miniscule size, it was the word itself, as well as the manner of how it was written, that was intriguing. 

‘ABANDONED’

There was no denying it now, Hunter’s interest was piqued. 

He carefully took off the lid and was met with bundles of papers messily stacked on top of the other. There were even envelopes of different sizes either scattered on the top, or inserted carelessly on the sides. As a means of distraction, since his demonstration was still hours away, he then attempted to sort through the papers.

The ones on the very top were a gamble between childish doodles of the castle and its inhabitants, and drafted documents on the coven’s finances and budget lists dating to years prior. Believing that there was nothing interesting with the contents, he was about the put the lid back and return the box to his place in the ground when he noticed a dark brown envelope. 

He picked it up, and upon flipping it, he saw cursive writing on the bottom-right corner. 

‘Etches’.  

Well. That’s informative, he thought sarcastically.

He opened the envelope, and pulled out a few papers. He was immediately dumbstruck by the sight of meticulous cursive writing, the size of the words being so ridiculously small that Hunter received the impression that whoever wrote this was attempting to cram a huge amount of information onto a singular piece of paper. 

What intrigued him though was the format. There were numerous bullet points, and highlighted words. He looked at the top, and finally noticed a readable label. ‘Research: Etches’

Hunter tried and failed to squash down the sudden rush of excitement on reading the research study by what seemed to be a dedicated scholar. 

He chanced a peek at the remaining papers within the envelope, compelled to bring this back to the castle. He already felt an undeniable hunger at the prospect of stumbling upon a topic he has never heard of before. He couldn’t wait to delve into such a topic.

He then froze upon looking at one particular paper.

This one wasn’t just notes—it was filled to the brim with careful illustrations, each symbol intricately drawn with sharp contrasts of ink and thoughtfully annotated with neat descriptions. Even the jagged lines had explanations, as if every single stroke carried meaning.

But that wasn’t what made his throat constrict.

They looked familiar. Too familiar.

These symbols looked eerily similar to the sigils he and Morro had encountered in the library.  

And within his grasp was concrete evidence that someone had studied them deliberately.

Not in passing, not a piece of scrap hidden in a dusty old book, but pages upon pages of dedicated research. The writer had even given them a name: etches. Despite the rough usage of the paper, the content carried a certain weight—more than anything Hunter had found in that random book from Morro’s haul.

So how? Where had this witch gotten such information?

‘Etches’ weren’t some forgotten branch of magic. If they were known, the Emperor would have sanctioned their use, approving their use and allowing it to be used coven-wide. Instead, they had been locked away in the castle’s private archives, and only mere scraps had survived. If Belos alone had access, if Belos alone replicated their patterns…

Hunter’s pulse quickened. He flipped through the remaining sheets, a certain emotion—suspicion, denial, uncertainty?—gnawing at him. These weren’t idle musings; this was a primary example of a systematic study. Whoever had written them had been close to the truth—too close.

And then Hunter saw it.

A signature scrawled in the corner of the last page.

‘Research: Property of Golden Guard.’

Hunter went rigid.

Not a name, of course—there were never names. His own identity was sealed tighter than any archive, for the Emperor’s right hand was never a person, only a title deemed superior than any other (excluding the emperor’s himself, of course). 

But that was the point. This hadn’t been some wild witch scribbling in secret. This was official. His role, his station.

His predecessor.

Hunter let out a shaky breath. Titan.

The realization hollowed him out. If a former Golden Guard had poured time into this, then how could it possibly be wild magic? Belos would never tolerate his right hand dabbling in the forbidden—would he? Unless… unless this research had been hidden away; erased, its existence denied time and time again.

A spike of guilt abruptly stabbed him in the gut. Had he shut Morro down—scolded him, silenced him—over nothing more than his own blind faith? Had he dismissed a possible solution to getting Morro home, not because it was dangerous, but because it threatened what he believed about Belos?

But it’s not like he would have known, right? He was just attempting to nip it in the bud before he did something he regretted. But even then, was that considered a valid excuse for attempting to withhold such information? 

His hands trembled as he shoved the papers back into the envelope, hardly aware he was doing it. When he blinked, the loose floorboard had already slid back into place, swallowing the box once more.

Only the envelope remained, threatening to crumble within his tight grip.

Hunter stared down at it, torn. This wasn’t his research. It belonged to someone else, someone who bore the mask and cloak before him. 

Yet the box was marked abandoned. 

The Golden Guard who had left it behind was gone. And wasn’t it his duty to finish what they had started?

The thought gnawed at him as he clutched the envelope tighter, contemplating.

“There you are, Golden Guard!” Hunter barely suppressed a flinch as he instinctively pocketed the whole thing beneath his cloak and tried to calmly turn around. 

He was met with two coven scouts. One had their shoulders back, and their hands tucked behind them, a familiar, soothing aura surrounding them. The other had their hands on their hips, their body slightly buzzing with unchecked energy—and Hunter realized belatedly that judging by the voice that had initially called out to him, this particular scout was the same one that had cheerfully dragged Morro to a table earlier.

“We were wondering where you were. We were tasked to escort you here earlier but we couldn’t find you.” The shorter of the pair stated warmly. Hunter could only assume that he was still a fresh recruit—he had too much enthusiasm for a coven scout, and too little apprehension for being in the presence of higher authority.

Suddenly realizing that the scouts were awaiting a response, the golden guard slipped back into his persona despite his heart still thumping rapidly in his chest, both from the idea of getting caught, and at the sight that greeted him mere moments before. 

“I thought it was better to avoid anyone else from seeing me, to not ruin the surprise of my presence here.” 

“Wise choice.” The other scout affirmed with a nod, and the voice revealed that it was indeed a scout he had already acquainted with. Elara, a scout who joined the year prior. Despite the short amount of time, she had proved her competence in the few missions Hunter had with her. He wouldn’t be surprised if she would be appointed Guard Captain in just a few months. 

The younger of the pair—Hunter had yet to learn his name—then clapped his hands together. 

“So, we’re here to make sure you look your absolute best! We were originally tasked to handle Lilith’s makeup actually—oh, do you wear makeup?” Elara appeared to shake her head fondly at the outburst, but Hunter blinked slowly before responding.

“No, I don’t.” The scout hummed.

“Do you want to? ‘Cause I have a few ideas that would fit the whole ‘Golden Guard’ vibe if you’re open to them.”

Hunter blinked again behind his mask before shaking his head, “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

While Elara nodded easily, the other appeared to be saddened by the response, as if forgetting who he was speaking to at the moment. “Oh. Why not?” The question came out innocently, as if forgetting an important fact, causing his coworker to facepalm. 

Despite his urge to do the same, Hunter used his hand to motion casually towards his mask instead. In only a few moments, the scout’s realization morphed his face into embarrassment. 

“Oh—right. I forgot you never take that off—sorry, Sir!” Hunter waved a hand flippantly, his initial panic slightly calmed by the sheer harmlessness of these two scouts. 

“Well, makeup is out of the question, and I don’t doubt that you wish to keep your usual get-up.” The scout mused, before waving his finger in the air, and forming a small spell circle that caused a few sparks to appear around Hunter. 

Said guard blinked in confusion for what felt like the hundredth time.

“It’s a type of charm I’ve been working on. It’s supposed to make your clothes stand out, if not your presence itself. Especially when the lights are off, it makes you look—“ the scout paused before continuing with a conspiring tone. “Well, you’ll see.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “Alright, then. Thank you for the brief assistance.” Elara nodded back, while the other visibly beamed.

“No problem, sir! Now, we’ll be off to do the rest of our duties. Good luck with the demo.”

“Not like you’ll need it.” Elara added with a nod. Deep down, Hunter appreciated the support he managed to garner from both of these scouts. 

With that, the pair walked away, leaving Hunter to his own devices. 

All of a sudden, the weight in his cloak’s inner pocket once again increased tenfold. Of course, he wasn’t going to take a proper look at the papers yet. It was better to do so in the privacy of his own room, away from the possibility of prying eyes. 

But the temptation was there. And Hunter just barely managed to resist it.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

The gentle hum of voices outside the curtain steadily became louder the closer he approached the curtain. Judging by the noise, he could only assume that the entire room was packed.

He took a deep breath, awaiting for the signal of his appearance. Forget it. Just forget everything he had discovered earlier. Distractions wouldn’t do him any good, after all.

“Everyone, may I have your attention?” A witch—if his memory served him correctly, it was the principal of St. Epiderm—amplified the voicing of her question from outside the curtain. Within the second, silence enveloped the entire room, making it harder for Hunter to drown out the sound of his own heartbeat.

Within moments, he was mere inches away from the fabric that served as the only separation barrier between him and the audience. 

“Perfect! It’s truly astounding to see so many young witches coming to the Covention this year—“

All of a sudden, he felt the blood rigorously rushing through his veins, the surge of adrenaline at the thought of presenting himself in front of a crowd, one eager to see the chosen representative of their esteemed coven—he couldn’t even recall where his nerves had stemmed from. This was where he belonged.

In anticipation, Hunter straightened his cloak, gloved fingers brushing the golden mask as if to reassure himself. His staff’s red gem pulsed faintly, steady and familiar.

“—and now, without further ado, let’s all give a warm welcome to this year’s special guest. Introducing; the Golden Guard!”

Reassured by the audience’s easy applause, Hunter was about to step out of the curtain before pausing. Staying where he was, he cleared his throat and attempted to amplify the volume of his voice.

“Magic, discipline, loyalty,” Hunter began, voice firm and commanding, as if declaring a truth that demanded attention. “This is what it means to serve the Emperor’s Coven.”

The Golden Guard mounted his staff with practiced ease and flew through the curtains, causing the crowd to gasp at the sudden entrance. Hunter mounted his staff with practiced ease, launching into the air and twisting into a smooth spiral. As he continued rising toward the ceiling, he fired smaller bolts downward in rhythm, a clean pattern that fizzled out just before touching the ground. 

The younger witches appeared at awe, some even attempting to touch the hovering pattern descended upon them just before they vanished.

Hunter remained at the top of the arena. His momentary stillness forced everyone to watch him in anticipation with bated breath. With utmost confidence, he let go of his staff, prompting him to flip downward in a spinning freefall.

Even louder gasps emerged from the crowd, causing Hunter to smirk as his staff readily fell with him. Amidst his short departure with his staff, he suddenly noticed the warm glow that surrounded his entire body; as if a warm aura of gold embraced his entire uniform. It took everything in him to look away in awe in order to return to the task at hand. Huh, that must have been the charm that the scout had mentioned. 

Ultimately coming back to his senses, he caught his staff mid-air. Moments before he met the ground, he allowed a crimson, glowing sphere to surround him, right as he landed back on the stage in a crouch. His final act was him slamming butt of his staff against the floor, a resounding echo rippling in the air.

Red energy rippled through the air, momentarily catching the audience by surprise. The energy then soared up into a volley of controlled blasts that arced overhead before fizzling into harmless golden sparks.

Complete silence. Then the cheerful applause quickly came. 

Hunter smoothly stood upright before patiently waiting for the noise to die down. Once it did, he subtly cleared his throat once more.  

“What you just witnessed is merely a glimpse of potential. In the Emperor’s Coven, magic isn’t a skill, it is a purpose. Join us, and become a part of something greater than yourself.” Emphasizing his point, Hunter raised his staff. Exiting from its gem was a shimmer of gold, the glittery substance forming a bright image of their sigil. 

Another round of applause, louder this time, filled the entire room. Behind the mask, Hunter couldn’t help but beam as he bowed and once again allowed the school principal to take over. 

No matter how small it may seem, Hunter felt another wave of pride wash over him at the thought of possibly being the source of inspiration for soon-to-be coven scouts this year. 

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Leaning against the wall, Hunter was trying to take a break from signing autographs. The thrill of seeing such bright smiles directed at him filled him with a warmth, but the moment the attention died down, he immediately escaped into a secluded area he had originally dropped off Morro to take a short breather. 

Simultaneously, he was waiting for the other to appear. 

Hunter sighed. Why was this becoming a familiar action?

After what felt like hours, a familiar raven finally stepped into the area, causing Hunter to look up. His content expression was immediately replaced with curiosity at the sight of Morro’s scrunched up face. Hunter stood upright as the raven was at a closer distance.

“Did you find something—?” 

“The fuck were those?” Hunter blinked slowly before tilting his head, both intrigued and nervous about what had frustrated the other this time.

“What are you talking about?”

“Those sketchy-as-shit brands that your scouts were imprinting on their wrists.” Hunter’s throat felt dry, prompting him to clear it momentarily. 

“I have informed you of the purpose of the Coven System, yes? Its to ensure a member stays loyal to the magic type they had chosen.”

“By forcefully restricting their abilities?” Where had Morro heard this? Was this from mere observation, eavesdropping, or did he actually manage to strike conversation with the other witches? In responding, Hunter tried to keep his tone light, albeit a bit strained.

“It’s a necessity, not a restriction. It’s to keep the system stable without us witches bringing ourselves to ruin with wild magic.” Morro blatantly scoffed.

“Yeah—sure. Sounds more like shackles than stable.” Hunter bristled.

“You can’t just criticize our system when you know nothing. You’re not even a witch—“ Hunter’s tone was clipped. But upon noticing the growing tension between them, he let out a sigh, an attempt to release his growing irritation before continuing, “And they’re not shackles, they’re sigils.” 

Morro looked like he was about to return before he went deadly still. “…did you just say sigils?” Hunter blinked.

“Yes, sigils.” And that’s what the realization hit Hunter. Before he could reassure Morro, the other continued. 

“So all this time you’ve kept me from finding information on sigils when your entire coven has been utilizing them this whole time? As brands?”

“What—no. They’re different! Just because you gave those symbols the same name by mere coincidence, doesn’t mean they are the same.” Morro crossed his arms in disbelief.

“And what makes you so sure? They’re both magical symbols discovered by the Emperor, aren’t they?” Hunter couldn’t deny the latter question even if he tried. So the blond just stayed quiet. 

Morro saw the silence as defiance. He appeared to grit his teeth before huffing and looking away. 

“Sorry, I got carried away again. You know I had mixed feelings about how you guys run things here, and my discovery earlier just—frustrated me.” Hunter’s annoyance diminished in an instant. It’s always words like those that made him curious about Morro’s past, how life was like for him before he arrived at the Demon Realm. 

His defensiveness about the exact story of how he appeared here. His visible struggle between interest and despondency upon listening to Hunter’s rambles about training. And now, the raven’s annoyance at the mere implication of shackle-like restrictions to one’s abilities?

Hunter fidgeted with his hands for a moment, before slowly approaching the other. He placed a calming hand on the other's shoulder. 

Morro looked at him, looking relieved that the blond didn’t seem to hold his outburst against him. The raven then sighed, resigned. 

“Look, I’m getting tired of this subject. I can tell you are too. Just go and skip over to your adoring fans, and we can have a civil conversation later. Whether or not it's about sigils or how good you did at the demo, I don’t care. I’ll meet you back at the ship.” Before Hunter could get a word in, Morro turned around to wear his scout-disguise once more, deeming the conversation over. 

Hunter watched the raven walk away, conflicted. 

He was relieved that he wasn’t pressured to bring the topic up again, but after shedding light on a few things earlier, the guard felt obligated to do so.

⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ ˑ

Hunter found himself in a similar position as earlier. 

He was once again near the railing, looking thoughtfully at the sky. Compared to earlier, less clouds were present, but the cool breeze was a constant he would be eternally grateful for.

Unlike earlier, the moment the ship took flight, Morro immediately stood up Hunter’s side. None of them spoke for the majority of the flight, for they were content with the presence of the other. A silent truce. 

Their conversations recently were always a gamble between tense disagreements or harmless comradery, and Hunter allowed himself to be anxious for a second, debating whether or not he should still bring up the topic like he had intended.

Internally building up his resolve, Hunter cleared his throat. Morro hummed softly, letting the blond know that he was listening.

“I… I’m sorry.” Morro turned just as Hunter raised a hand.

“And don’t tell me to shut up about apologizing yet, let me finish.” The raven kept his gaze on the guard for a few more seconds before looking back at the endless sky before them.

“I’m sorry that I tried to withhold information about… those symbols from you. And I mean it. While I already explained to you my reasoning for such earlier… I had just discovered the possibility of them not being wild magic right before my display.” Morro stayed silent before tilting his head thoughtfully.

“What did you find out?”

“I had uncovered a few papers in my dressing room. It turns out one of my predecessors had deliberately researched the topic.” Without gauging the other’s reaction—such attempts would be futile anyway, since Morro still had his scout mask concealing his face—Hunter continued, “I figured that if he researched them, then they weren’t considered wild magic…” unless it was and the Golden Guard had been deemed a traitor for doing so, forcing him to abandon his works—but that couldn’t have been the case, right? 

“So, using the research I found, along with the book in the library, I’ll help you give sigils—uh, etches, a try. Perhaps we deserve a break from repetitive potion-making.” Hunter turned, only to meet the other’s mask. For a moment, it felt like Morro was attempting to inspect his very soul. 

“Etches, you say?” The hint of amusement in the other’s tone was obvious, making Hunter shrug. 

“That was what the writer had decided to name them.” Morro tilted his head again.

“If you don’t think this is wild magic anymore, then isn’t it safe to question the emperor himself on what they’re called? He seems to know exactly what they are.” The raven mentioned offhandedly. Hunter didn’t know why, but the mere thought of taking his uncle’s time to ask such questions made his stomach feel queasy.

“He would question my reasons for asking. And it’s not like he… knows what I’m doing.” The blond mumbled, feeling another stab of guilt before forcefully pushing it away. 

Morro stayed quiet for a few moments. “So, we’re calling them etches now?” Hunter felt the tension disappear from his rigid shoulders in an instant, soothed by the other’s decision to avoid digging any further.

“Well, why not?” Despite the light tone, Hunter decided if he was going to research those symbols, he would drop the name ‘sigils’ entirely. He didn’t know what to feel about associating unknown symbols with the sigils of their coven. 

However, the blond felt like he developed a sixth sense after being in the raven’s process for so long. The blond could practically hear the eye roll at his casual response.

“Etches is a… name and a half. No promises I’ll stick to it. Though, I now question your ability to name things.” Morro lightly snickered as Hunter whipped around in offense. Not allowing him the chance to retort, the raven smoothly redirected the conversation.

“So, we’ll start researching Etches tonight?” Hunter couldn’t stop his excited smile. 

“Of course.”

Later on, Hunter would find out Morro never bought food from the booths like he had initially promised. 

Morro would also find out Hunter never ate the Fickleberries before the demonstration.

That night, they shared the berries together as Hunter carefully laid out the research papers on the table. (For a moment, he even contemplated searching for a spell to restore the burnt book to its original condition). It remained unspoken between them, but they both agreed that this was one of the rare research sessions where everything went smoothly between them throughout the entire night.

Yet even as Hunter allowed himself to smile, his gaze kept returning to the corner of that paper—the name etched there forever burned in the back of his mind: Golden Guard.

Just what other secrets was he not aware of?