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It was cold.
It was so cold.
It shouldn’t be this cold. The candle by the window should have brought some warmth to the room, yet everything just felt frigid. Hunter gazed past the flame at the horizon, the aftermath of his last lashing still stung and begged to be taken care of. He knew he should attend to the injury, at least bandage it up, but he couldn’t. Instead, Hunter sat and stared, watching as the sun descended past the horizon.
He had just recently been promoted to The Golden Guard. He was supposed to finally show Belos that he could make him proud and live up to the titan’s expectations! But he just kept messing up; the wound on his cheek served as a reminder of just one of his previous errors.
It was so stupid anyway, why he had chosen to talk back to Belos he’d never know. He’d been raised better than this, better than some disrespectful brat who can’t even keep his mouth shut. Even after all the chances he’d been given, of course, he had to go and ruin it all.
He clenched his fists, trying to ignore the pain, and squeezed his eyes shut. Next time, he thought, next time I have to do better, I have to be better. These thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the door to his room creaked ajar. Opening his eyes, Hunter saw the figure of Emperor Belos. He was no longer in his full regalia, his mask discarded, yet still wearing his cloak; the emblem of the Emperor’s Coven shone bright against the candlelight.
Belos entered the room. “Good evening, Hunter.”
“Good evening, Lord Belos.”
He chuckled, “No need for the formalities, my dear, it’s just me tonight.”
“Of course, Uncle.”
Belos’s gaze shifted around Hunter’s bedroom before landing back on Hunter again. His eyes narrowed once they landed on his arms, the aftermath of his uncle’s outburst still bleeding. The man sighed and twirled his finger, which summoned a roll of gauze. For the first time, Belos knelt. His hands were gentle as he dressed the wound, the blood immediately dying the wrappings a shade of pink.
It felt wrong. Hunter should be the one kneeling, the one apologizing, the one begging and praying for forgiveness, not Belos. Why was Belos the one taking care of him? Hunter wanted to move, wanted to say anything, wanted to tell him to stop and leave him to suffer on his own, but instead, all he could do was sit and watch as Belos helped him.
It was Belos who broke the silence, “I truly am sorry, Hunter.” He spoke, his hand brushing against the dressings before resting on top of Hunter's hand. “You know it hurts me when you fail.” He delicately held onto the boy’s cheek, the younger witch wincing at the pain, “If you just did as you were told, perhaps we could have avoided this.”
“I’m sorry…” Hunter mumbled and slowly averted his gaze.
”Oh, Hunter…” Belos tutted and moved his hand towards Hunter’s chin. He grabbed the boy's face and turned him back towards him. “I wish I could believe you, but how can I trust you when you continue to make the same mistakes?” The grip tightened, and Hunter flinched. He reached up to grasp the man’s arms. The man's gauntlets dug into his skin, likely leaving a bruise.
“I really am! I-It won’t happen again, I promise!” Hunter begged, trying to pull away.
“All these promises, one after another, and nothing to show for it. You’re nothing but a brat.”
“I never meant to disrespect you! I only wanted to help!” The hand holding onto Hunter’s began to bubble. Hunter’s heart dropped; he recognized when the curse began to unleash itself. Reaching for something, anything that can calm his uncle down, he shut his eyes and cried out, “I... I love you!”
Belos let go.
Hunter fell back and sat limp against the mattress. He looked up towards Belos, searching for any emotion. Something showed on Belos’s face before he stood up and turned around. He scoffed, “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, boy.” Belos advanced towards the door.
Hunter stammered, “W-Wait! Please! Please… don’t leave..” He held out his hand and reached out towards the man, aching for any comfort. Belos pushed a hand through his hair, glancing back one last time, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hunter.”
Hunter stared at the door. He should feel happy. He should feel grateful that even after everything, his uncle still came to visit him, his uncle cared for his wounds, and his uncle barely even hurt him! And yet, after he left, and Hunter began to cry, it still felt cold.