Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hunter couldn't remember his last words.

He knew they weren't meaningful, or chosen with the knowledge that they would, in fact, be his last. But he didn't know what they actually were. He couldn't even remember the conversation that had preceded them. All he could remember was the frustration that had built within him throughout said conversation. His uncle hadn't been listening to him, waving away his fears like always, and he was getting so angry.

He was twelve. And like most twelve-year-olds, his emotions were a constant storm he had to try very hard to keep in check. Unlike most twelve-year-olds, he had very few outlets. At some point, he'd taken to making snide remarks to the scouts and Coven Heads, just whatever bratty quip he knew he could get away with. But he knew better with his uncle; he kept those remarks firmly in his head while in the throne room. Belos wasn't liable to stop at shooting him a dirty look.

So he knew better. He knew better. And yet- The words reflexively snapped out of Hunter like some kind of muscle spasm. They were quiet, but in the silence of the empty throne room, they cut through the air like a fire spell. Belos, who had been walking away (because the conversation was over, it should have been over-), stopped cold. Hunter snapped his mouth shut so abruptly his teeth clicked.

"What was that?" His uncle asked, voice even.

Hunter tried to peel his lips apart to answer, to apologize, but his jaw had gone stiff.

Slowly, his uncle turned, cold eyes watching him expectantly. When the silence continued, a tight, mirthless smile slid across Belos' face. "What? Don't feel like repeating it?"

This was bad. Very, very bad. Apologies and deflections bubbled up Hunter's throat, and this time he actually managed to open his mouth to let them out. If he could just explain- or beg for forgiveness- or- or- Then it was too late.

A tendril of dark ooze shot out from Belos' arm, latching onto the front of Hunter's uniform, punching the air out of his chest. All the words he'd been about to say (all the words he might ever have said) died as he was dragged across the room. He could only let out a choked gasp as Belos lifted him off the ground so they were eye to eye.

The Emperor had been mad at Hunter before. He'd even been furious. In fact, it seemed like these days the best Hunter could hope for was mild irritation. But, in that moment, the wrath on Belos' face was beyond anything he'd ever seen. It was monstrous.

"Why do you always insist on talking back? On belittling me?" He snarled, shaking Hunter. His face contorted like the words were painful to get out. "I've had enough of it."

He lifted his free hand, and its skin began to bubble and warp until it too had melted into dark sludge. If Hunter had known where this was going, he might not have left his mouth hanging open in horror. He might have tried to delay the inevitable. Instead, when his uncle jammed his curse-deformed hand into his mouth, he did so with ease.

Hunter struggled briefly, but when Belos made a noise of agitation, he did his best to stop. The hand in his mouth was hardly recognizable as such. It was more like a writhing mass of muck. It filled his mouth, pushing his jaw so far open it nearly cracked under the pressure. Pulsing and squirming, it threatened to slither down his throat, block his airways. Hot tears started to roll down Hunter's face and he shut his eyes and tried to stop because he wasn't supposed to cry but terror was making it hard to think and the muck was making it hard to breathe and- It tasted like death, like decay and rot and death- Hunter was dying. He was really dying. His uncle was going to kill him. He should have known better.

White hot pain erupted in his mouth. His limbs spasmed wildly, hands clawing at the thing restraining him, feet desperately searching for purchase. If his throat had been clear, Hunter was sure his screams would have echoed across the castle.

Then the mass retracted, and Hunter was thrown to the side. His back hit the ground. Blood filled his mouth in seconds, sliding down his throat. He tried to sit up, let it pour out of his mouth instead so he could breathe- But something landed on his chest, keeping him pinned. He gagged, the hot, thick liquid clogging his airways. His uncle said something, but Hunter couldn't hear it over the sound of his own garbled choking. Instinctively, he struggled against the weight pinning him, legs flailing like a wounded animal. His fingers dug into his neck and clawed at his face in desperation. Black spots started to dot his already blurry vision. Then the pressure on his chest lifted just enough for him to roll to his side. A wave of red fell from his lips, and he let out a torrent of wet coughs.

"Pathetic."

The pain was still so sharp that he could barely raise his head to look up. His vision had blurred to the point he couldn't even make out his uncle's face. He didn't need to in order to know that it was full of disgust and disappointment.

"Are you going to drown in a puddle of your own blood or are you going to show me I was right to have ever had faith in you?"

Hunter stilled at that. A chance. He was being given another chance. It wasn't over yet. He choked down a sob. Arms trembling, Hunter slowly pushed himself up. His mouth, an indecipherable mass of pain, was still open. His unfocused gaze remained planted on the steadily growing pool of blood below him. He couldn't even tell where it was all coming from.

An impatient sigh came from somewhere above him. "I suppose I should know by now you still require assistance with even the most basic of tasks."

Hunter braced for a hit, but it never came. Instead, the gentle warmth of a healing spell crept its way into his mouth. A few more large globs of blood hit the floor, and then the bleeding stopped. A moment later, the pain receded into a dull, throbbing ache. Hunter could think again; he could breathe again. This time, he couldn't stop the sob of relief that fell from his lips. At last, he could fully sit up. He was still shaking, but it was over. Belos had healed him and he wasn't going to die and- and- why did his mouth feel so strange?

Finally, Hunter lifted his head.

Oh.

He stared up in cold terror, blood still dripping down his chin, at the chunk of flesh Belos was holding up. His tongue. His uncle had cut out his tongue. Belos turned it side to side, examining it. Then his sharp gaze landed on Hunter.

"Don't look at me that way, boy. This tongue was a privilege. A privilege you abused. Thus a privilege that has been revoked." He shook his head. "Maybe someday you'll earn it back... But I doubt it." He tossed the bit of meat aside with a scoff.

Hunter remained frozen in place. A quiet, shaky whine crawled its way out of his throat, his lips moving around the sound futilely. The noise made Belos' expression soften. He bent down, sighing.

"I wish you wouldn't make me do this." He looked down at his hand, back to its normal shape but stained with blood. "These outbursts are painful for me. I just want to help you, Hunter. Why do you insist on making that so difficult? On pushing me to such drastic measures?"

Tears began slipping down Hunter's face again. He shook his head helplessly. I don't want to. I promise I'll do better. Belos hummed in understanding. He took hold of Hunter's arm and pulled him back to his feet. Carefully, he straightened Hunter's clothes and smoothed down his hair. Hunter tried his best to hold down his jittery, hiccupping sobs. He was shaking so badly it was hard to remain upright. Belos did nothing to steady him.

"You've disappointed me today, Hunter. I thought you knew better, I really did. But it seems I've been too soft on you lately." He sighed. "I hope you won't make this a lesson we have to repeat. Now, go clean yourself up. You're disgusting."

Chapter Text

Lilith remembered very clearly the last thing the Golden Guard ever said to her.

It was all ridiculous, really. The conversation. The fact that she remembered it. But every time she saw a flash of gold from his mask in the hall, her mind (un)helpfully replayed those words. Mostly, she pushed it aside. But sometimes she stewed a bit in the old irritation, like picking at a scab just before it heals.

It had happened late one night. She'd run into him in the hall, both just returning from missions. He hadn't been wearing his mask, which was rare. When they'd noticed each other, they had both made valiant efforts at hiding their displeasure. They were walking in opposite directions, but they were obliged to stop and acknowledge each other. He needed to greet her as his Coven Head. She needed to greet him as the Emperor's (little pet) nephew. So, they greeted each other, and he gave a brief report on his mission while she pretended to care. It had gone well (because apparently everything did for him), so she was obligated to congratulate him.

"It sounds like your training is going well." That counted, right? "Captain Crinthet speaks very highly of you."

Everyone did. Usually reluctantly and through gritted teeth, mind you. But they couldn't deny he was exceptional for his age.

"I'm glad to hear it." He sounded more like he had been expecting to hear it.

There was an uncomfortable pause. His eyes wandered from her face to the hall behind her. He opened his mouth, no doubt to excuse himself, and really, wouldn't the conversation ending be a relief for both of them?

"You know, I was a top student too when I was your age." Lilith wasn't quite sure why she said it. Judging by the way he raised an eyebrow, the kid wasn't either. Maybe she just wanted to make sure he didn't get a big head. "If you keep up the good work you might even end up getting a high position in the coven like me."

His smile tensed. "Yeah... I'm not worried about that."

"Is that right?"

Then he'd shrugged and said, "If you could do it, I'm sure I can."

And really, it was nothing. Just nine little words said in that bratty, annoying voice. Lilith had tried to school her reaction, to seem unbothered the way an adult should be when teased by a child. But her face had grown warm with anger, and his fake, polite smile had morphed into a pleased little smirk. Then he'd stepped around her and left without being formally dismissed.

Lilith had sworn to herself she wouldn't let him get away with talking like that to her again.

Then he stopped talking to her altogether.

It was months before she ran into him again. This time, he was wearing his mask. She had greeted him with stiff propriety as always. But he'd only given a brisk nod in return. Then he was off again without even giving her the chance to speak. Lilith had stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, looking after him. That was impertinent, even for him.

The scene repeated itself verbatim twice more before Lilith began to hear similar stories from the other Coven Heads. And captains. And scouts. For some reason, he was giving everyone the cold shoulder like some kind of child. Well, if he was going to behave like one, she'd treat him like one. A tantrum of this kind needed to be handled by the child's guardian. So, Lilith went to Belos.

But the Emperor had simply given a disinterested hum. "I'm sure Hunter will speak to you when he thinks it's important."

"But-"

"Trust me, Lilith, I have made sure to teach him manners. He will show you proper respect," Belos looked down at her. "When you earn it."

Lilith had left the throne room absolutely boiling with anger. So, that was it? The Golden Guard didn't think talking to her was important? Didn't think she was worthy of his respect? He thought he was so much better than her- She was the Coven Head! His Coven Head. But just because he had the Emperor's favor, he thought he could do whatever he wanted. Then again, apparently he could, since it seemed that Belos didn't care if she was disrespected.

No, that wasn't it. He just thought this was beneath him, that she should be able to handle this on her own. And she should! She would! She could deal with a disrespectful, know-it-all, bratty little-

How? Well. She'd figure that out.

As months passed, rumors circulated among the scouts that the Golden Guard couldn't speak. That something had happened to him. That he had been cursed or maimed or had taken on a vow of silence. These rumors held about as much water as the ones about Eberwolf eating baby fairies or Adrian shedding like a lizard each night. The scouts whispered these sorts of silly things to each other to entertain themselves on long shifts. Lilith heard them all (including the ridiculous ones about herself), and she dismissed them all.

Besides, Lilith was pretty positive that if the Emperor's nephew had been maimed or cursed such that he couldn't speak, Belos would have healed him in a matter of hours. He was promising to do as much for Edalyn, and he didn't even know her. And if the Golden Guard had taken any kind of vow, it was only to be a thorn in her side. No, he was choosing not to speak to her anymore. So, Lilith stopped trying to speak to him too.

Served him right. The little brat.

——

For the first few weeks after his punishment, Hunter barely slept. He lay in bed, motionless, making small noises at the back of his throat. They reverberated strangely in his chest, bounced around hollowly in his mouth. Sometimes he moved his lips, forming the familiar shapes of words. He didn't want to forget how. When his uncle restored his privilege, he didn't want to be rusty. If his pillow grew wet with tears most nights, he didn't care to notice.

I deserved this. I knew better.

He repeated this mantra every time he felt a spark of anger rise in his chest. Every time he felt the chill of despair begin to creep in. Because it wasn't his uncle's fault, he didn't enjoy hurting Hunter. And it wasn't like this was permanent. Hunter just had to do better. He had to regain his uncle's trust. Then everything would be okay.

For a few days, no one seemed to notice that Hunter wasn't speaking. But you can only get by for so long nodding and shaking your head. Unsurprisingly, the Coven Heads were offended by his silence. The captains and guards seemed mostly just confused. The scouts were a different story. Hunter discovered they were actually quite adept at figuring out what he meant without words. He suspected this was due to the number of captains who would wave their hands in a vague command to their underlings while talking to another captain. It used to piss Hunter off, but now he was just glad to reap what they'd sown. Unfortunately, there was a limit to the scouts’ ability to guess what he wanted. He learned this the hard way.

——

Hunter stood at the edge of the small cliff, scanning the snowy landscape below. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, ready to spring free at the first provocation. This was his first mission leading a team of scouts, and it needed to go perfectly. All his recent solo missions had gone well, but Belos never seemed very impressed. Good was just the bare minimum; it needed to be flawless. He needed to be flawless.

A small group of scouts stood a few feet behind him, whispering softly amongst themselves and arranging supplies. Most of them were experienced trappers, having focused on beast keeping while in school. Hunter had hand-picked all but one of them for this mission (the exception being a new recruit whose captain wanted to get some more experience). They were hunting a ferawou, a large, scaly, four-legged creature with pincers the size of a grown man’s arm. They were fast, silent, and adept at contorting their bodies to hide behind almost anything. They also had a strikingly powerful venom. One drop on your skin was enough to kill in only a few minutes, painless right up until the end. There was only one antidote: kill the ferawou that poisoned you. Which was exactly why their number one tactic was to sneak up on their prey, shoot a spray of venom, and then retreat until their victim was dead.

Belos needed one. Why? Hunter didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. He was going to track one down, kill it cleanly, and bring it back to the Emperor before the sun was down.

“Sir,” One of the scouts approached, standing at perfect attention. “We’ve finished the dowsing spell. We should be able to detect if there are any large predators in the vicinity.”

Hunter nodded, following her back to the other scouts. Three wooden rods lay in the snow, glowing a soft orange. Picking one up, Hunter could feel it vibrating gently. He turned back to the cliff, holding the rod out and scanning the horizon. The vibrations increased and decreased several times. There were multiple large creatures out there, as expected. Hopefully, one of them was a ferawou.

They split into three groups of two (which took Hunter longer than he would have liked to explain through vague hand gestures) and spread out. Hunter took the new recruit with him so he could keep an eye on them. Plus, he felt confident enough in his abilities to account for the handicap. In retrospect, he was probably a bit too confident.

It snuck up on them.

That shouldn’t have been possible. The scout had the dowsing rod, and Hunter had practically had his head on a constant swivel. They should have seen it coming a mile away. But maybe that had only made them careless.

Hunter was fifty or so feet ahead of the scout, examining some markings on a tree. Something moved in his peripheral, and he turned his head. There was a dark streak rushing through the trees, moving so silently it might as well have been carried by the wind. And it wasn’t heading for Hunter. It was heading for the scout. The scout who had their back turned, tapping the dowsing rod against their palm like it was a broken scroll. They didn’t see it-

Hunter let out some kind of strangled grunt that anyone else might have formed into words of warning. But he couldn’t, and the scout didn’t turn, and the beast was almost upon them- Hunter flew forward, disappearing in a flash of red magic. As soon as he reappeared, he spun his staff in a wide arc, summoning a wave of ice. The once silent ferawou let out a screech of shock and dismay as its path was cut off. It crashed into the ice with a wet-sounding roar, and the wall exploded under its force. A piece of ice slammed into Hunter’s side, sending him sprawling backward. The ferawou screamed again as it scrambled into retreat, never one for head-on confrontation.

Hunter was back on his feet in an instant, but the creature had already disappeared. The scout was staring at him, their limbs taut in surprise and fear. Hunter imagined their mouth must’ve been dumbly hanging open behind their mask. Anger surpassed the fear he'd been feeling in an instant. He marched up to the scout and shoved them as hard as he could. Idiot!

They fell back with a small gasp. Hunter stood over them, gripping his staff. His muscles twitched with the urge to raise his staff over his head, to make sure that this scout never forgot this lesson. How could you be so stupid? He wanted to scream. But he didn’t. Couldn't. And really, wasn't that the true cause of all of this? Hunter's muscles relaxed, and he turned his head away from the scout. If he'd been able to call out to them, this wouldn't have happened. The mistake was his. The lesson must be his, also.

"S-Sir." The scout said, breathless.

Hunter looked down at them again, intending to offer a hand to help them back up. His vision swam suddenly. He blinked harshly, but it didn’t clear.

"Y-Your- it hit your-"

The scout was pointing at his side. It took a moment for Hunter to understand what that meant. He looked down. There was a splotch of dark green splashed across his side, just below his ribs. There were small whisps of steam coming off it. The venom. It could seep through just about any piece of clothing or armor in a matter of seconds. Steam usually meant that it had found skin. That it was already too late. It was too late. The venom would kill him in minutes if they didn't kill the beast first. When had it even had the chance to spray him? Tears sprang to Hunter's eyes. It didn't even hurt. He shouldn't be afraid. He… he wasn’t. He was just frustrated.

Hunter turned away from the scout. He raised his staff and shot off the signal flare to let the others know they’d found the ferawou. Then, without turning back, he took off after the beast.

It must’ve wounded itself on the ice because there was a small trail of dark blood weaving through the trees. Hunter raced along the path, dodging between the dense trees and foliage. There was no room to fly, so he had to stick to the ground. His breathing became increasingly labored as precious seconds ticked by. It started to fog up inside his mask, making his already unsteady vision even more blurred. But he was getting closer, he could feel it.

His left leg gave out just as he was about to hop over a bush. Instead, he crashed into it, immediately getting tangled in its thorny branches. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to get out of it, his limbs suddenly not wanting to cooperate. When he finally stood again, the best he could manage was to hobble forward. A small jolt of pain ran up his spine. Hunter stopped, panting heavily. He was losing feeling in his fingers. There was a steadily growing pillar of steam coming from his side. He didn’t have much time. But the ferawou would know that too. It would be looping back to finish him off.

Hunter leaned heavily against a tree. All he had to do was wait.

When he reopened his eyes (never having meant to close them in the first place), he was lying on his back in the snow. The pain was sharp now, crawling along his torso, inching closer to his heart. He couldn’t see much, only vague blobs that he assumed to be tree branches overhead. His eyelids were so heavy, it was a struggle to reopen them after every blink. The cold sting of fear rose in his chest, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He could barely move. He couldn’t call for help.

There was a noise several yards to his left. At first, Hunter’s heart stopped as he assumed the ferawou had found him. But then his sluggish mind registered what the sound had actually been. A voice. A witch’s voice. One of the scouts. Hunter wanted to sob with relief. But then there was a prolonged stretch of silence. Was he wrong? No, there it was again. A voice, multiple voices, talking. They weren’t too far away. But then there was more silence. Were they moving away? Were they leaving him behind?

No! Desperation flooded his mind. Don't leave. He raised his hand, and it trembled weakly in the air. Don't leave, I'm still here. I need help-

But the voices weren’t getting farther away. Though they weren’t getting closer either. Hunter let his hand fall, using his rapidly fading strength to try and make out what was being said.

“That’s not going to hold.”

A squeal. The ferawou. They’d caught it.

“I’m doing my best-”

Another squeal. What were they doing? Why hadn’t they killed it?

“Any sign of them?”

“Nope.”

They were waiting? For him and the other scout? No.

“Are we seriously gonna wait for them?”

No, no, no- There’s no time!

"Shouldn't we?"

No, please, no.

“Why? So he can get all the credit? Just do it already.”

“Alright, fine. Sheesh.”

There was the sound of a powerful blast, the crushing of bone and flesh, and the aborted roar of a dying animal.

The relief was immediate. Hunter sat up with a rattling gasp. His vision snapped back into focus, and his limbs began to cooperate again. Looking down, he could see that the venom had burned a clear hole through his uniform. Beneath, his skin was pink and slightly blistered but otherwise untouched. He was going to be fine.

Even though all his strength had returned, Hunter sat in the snow for some time before returning to the scouts. He was careful to conceal the hole in his uniform with his cloak. And when they found the new recruit (still sitting in the snow where he’d left them), he pretended not to notice how relieved they were that he was still alive.

——

Hunter trudged down the castle hall. His head ached terribly, and there were stupid, worthless tears blurring his vision. Belos had been pleased, at first, with how quickly Hunter had gotten him the ferawou. He’d smiled down at the carcass with such satisfaction, and then he’d even turned that smile to Hunter. But then the smile had faded and he’d stepped closer, pulling aside Hunter’s cloak to reveal the hole in his uniform. He’d just raised an eyebrow in response, but Hunter knew what that meant. All he wanted to do now was collapse into bed and hope his mattress swallowed him whole.

Then he heard a familiar voice speaking softly.

“I swear, I had no idea it was even there. I think Drimple messed up the drowsing spell or something,” the new recruit was saying.

Hunter drew closer, peaking around a corner to see them talking to another scout.

“Are you sure you weren’t just using it wrong? Drimple knows what she’s doing.”

“I dunno. Maybe. I think I’ve just been a little out of it all day, y’know? I was so nervous about going on a mission with the Golden Guard.”

The other scout snorted. “Why? He’s just a kid.”

“Yeah, but he’s like the emperor’s illegitimate son or something.”

Hunter rolled his eyes. Scouts had the dumbest rumors.

“Yeah right.”

“Well, he wasn’t so bad anyway. He saved me after all. It was pretty crazy, that thing came out of nowhere and so did he. I didn't even register him warning me or anything."

Oh. Hunter sucked in a small breath. They assumed he'd called out to them first. Of course they did. Because why wouldn’t he have called out to them?

“I’m surprised he didn’t let it get you so he could kill it while it was chewing on you.”

“Nah, he took it on like it was nothing. But then he turned around, and I swear I could see steam coming out of his ears. I thought for sure he'd start screaming at me like Captain Barlin. But he didn't.”

"No way. He can't even be bothered to yell at us?"

Hunter wilted. 

But the new recruit shook their head. “I don't think it's that. I think he just has more self-control, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you should have seen him. Cool as a boocumber. Even though he was injured. It was kinda awesome.”

Hunter was pretty sure that if he hadn't had his mask, they wouldn't be saying that. Still, they sounded genuinely impressed. And their friend sounded genuine, too, when they said

"Alright. That's fair enough. The kid is tough as nails; I'll grant him that."

With that, the topic of their conversation began to drift, and Hunter pulled away. Feeling reinvigorated, he started off down the hall towards his room. But this time, he wasn’t planning on heading to bed. He had work to do.

Hunter swore to himself he wouldn’t forget this lesson. He needed to be able to communicate clearly with his men in moments where every second counted.

Over the next few years, he discovered two ways to do this. First, he learned (or, rather, re-learned) how to whistle with his fingers. He couldn’t really control the pitch, but he could control the volume and duration. One loud, long note to call them to regroup. Two short notes to warn them. And so on. Second, he developed a litany of hand signs to describe more complicated tasks to them. Four fingers tapped on his palm to have them make camp. One finger drawn along the bottom third of his mask to tell them to shut up before he revoked their talking privileges. Of course, this made things difficult for new recruits who had to learn what three fingers tapped on the side of his head meant. But they learned. Hunter told himself this was good, both for him and for the scouts. It made him a more methodical leader, and it made them more attentive followers. It also gave him a shit reputation.

Everyone assumed he chose not to talk, that he was intentionally making things more difficult. Most people thought he had some kind of superiority complex, that he only talked to those he deemed worthy. That he only talked to the Emperor. After all, from their perspective, Belos was the only one who ever seemed to be actually communicating with him. What they didn’t understand was that Hunter never had to whistle or make hand signs or even speak for his uncle to know what he was thinking. He just knew. Sometimes Hunter worried Belos really could read his mind.

As difficult as this reputation often made things for Hunter, he knew it was better than if they knew the real reason for his silence. Belos had never told Hunter to keep it a secret, but he hadn't told anyone himself either. If he wanted people to know, they would. And really, Hunter was grateful. His uncle wasn't making his failure public. He was allowing Hunter to hide it… or at least try to. Although Hunter also knew it was not something he could allow to interfere with his work.

But that was fine. He was figuring it out. Sure, things were difficult. But Hunter could manage it. He was fine. Really.

Until the aborted petrification of a certain wild witch.

Chapter Text

The throne room was silent save the slow, carefully even breaths of the emperor. He still had his mask on, and he was staring up at the Titan’s heart. Hunter stood stiffly by the door, clutching his mask in one hand and his staff in the other, not daring to breathe. He prayed his apprehension was not clear on his face. Everything had gone very poorly, hadn’t it? Surely, it wasn’t Belos’ intention for Eda the wild witch to escape petrification or for the crowd to get so riled up. Wasn’t this a big mess? Or maybe—Hunter tightened his grip on his mask—maybe this whole line of thinking was treasonous. After all, Belos said the Titan told him to let them go.

When Belos finally removed his mask, he was smiling. But it wasn’t the genuine, gentle smile that Hunter was always chasing. It was the stiff, unreadable one. It meant this conversation probably wasn’t going to go well. Belos turned to face him.

“Are you troubled, Hunter?”

Abruptly, he became aware of how much he was shrinking into himself. He straightened up immediately, giving his head a small shake. No, sir. As soon as he did, he second-guessed the movement. Maybe he was supposed to be troubled. It didn’t matter either way because Belos clearly didn’t believe him.

“I would have thought you’d be a little more excited.”

Hunter tilted his head. Excited?

“Yes.” Belos paused expectantly. When Hunter clearly remained confused, he sighed and continued with a distinct tone of condescension. “Lilith has betrayed the coven, as I suspected she one day would, and joined her sister as an enemy of the state. Thus, that leaves the coven without a Head.”

Hunter’s eyes widened. Surely that doesn’t mean…

“Lilith had her uses, but she was woefully incompetent in a great many areas. Including shaping her subordinates into being of any use themselves. I’m sure you’ll agree that any of her captains would crumble under the pressure of being Coven Head.” He shook his head with a small laugh. “So, who does that leave us with? Kikimora?”

Hunter couldn’t keep his face from wrinkling with disgust. No way! She’s even more inept and belligerent than Lilith.

“Yes, she’d hardly make a good face for the coven, would she?”

They lapsed into silence again. Hunter could feel his heart thumping rapidly against his chest, the sensation making it difficult for him to breathe. There was no way Belos was implying what he thought he was. Was Hunter actually being promoted? To Coven Head? He didn’t want to be presumptuous but… wasn’t that clearly where this was headed? If so, he desperately wished Belos would just openly say as much, because the way they were dancing around the topic was filling his stomach with anxiety.

But Belos had no intention of doing so, as the next thing he said was “So, Hunter, who does that leave us with?”

Carefully, Hunter tucked his mask away into his cloak. Then he crossed the room, kneeling in front of the emperor. With his head bowed, he placed a hand on his chest. If it’s the Titans will, I can take on the responsibility, Emperor Belos. I won’t crumble under the weight, I swear it.

“You believe you’re fit for the position?”

Hunter nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the floor.

“Well, you certainly are well-trained. I made sure of that myself,” Belos hummed with faux thoughtfulness. “You command respect among the scouts; you outshine all of the captains. And I believe your recent track record with missions is clean, particularly your solo missions if I am not mistaken. That does set you up to be quite a good face for the coven, doesn’t it?”

The praise was dizzying. It was all Hunter could do to keep from grinning like an idiot or falling over or doing a fist pump or bursting into tears. This was all he’d wanted for so long. His uncle was proud of him, was pleased with the work he’d done. Pleased enough to promote him. And maybe… maybe even pleased enough to heal him. Surely being entrusted with the position of Coven Head meant he was trustworthy enough to speak again, right? It had been four years, after all. It must be obvious that he’d learned his lesson. Then Belos let out a long sigh, and all the elation rising in his chest stopped cold.

“Of course, there is one little problem,” The emperor began lightly.

Hunter raised his head, eyebrows drawing together.

Belos leaned down, grabbing Hunter’s face with one hand. “Can a Coven Head really do their job without speaking?”

For a moment, this confused Hunter. Was he right? Did this mean Belos was going to heal him? But no, no there was disappointment sagging his uncle’s face. He was saying the opposite. He wasn’t going to heal him, and he wasn’t going to promote him. Even after all this time, even after all his desperate, hard work, Hunter still hadn’t made up for that mistake. He still hadn’t proved himself worthy. He’d failed.

“Lilith has put us in quite the difficult spot with her untimely betrayal, hasn’t she?” Belos straightened back up, but he kept his hand locked on Hunter’s jaw. “It was always my intention and the will of the Titan for you to take this station one day. Unfortunately, I had anticipated that you would have regained my trust before that day arrived. It seems I thought too highly of you.”

No. Hunter tried to shake his head, but it ended up more of an erratic twitch. No, please, I swear I’ll do better. I can do better.

There was a pressure building behind his eyes, and for what felt like the millionth time that day he was struggling to get air into his lungs. But he refused to let any tears fall or to let his body curl into itself the way it so badly wanted. He had to prove he had control of himself. This moment may be the last chance he’d ever have. The emperor’s gaze was unwavering, unforgiving, and all too knowing. Once again consumed with the fear that Belos was reading his thoughts, Hunter let only one phrase permeate his mind: I will do better.

In the blink of an eye, Belos retracted his hand, and his cold countenance morphed into something more familial. He laughed. It was such a light sound; so foreign to the throne room that it almost seemed to wither in the inhospitable air. Then he looked down, lips still curled in a smile—genuine, this time.

“Now, Hunter, there’s no reason to pout like a child,” he said jovially. “While it’s true that things are not as I’m sure we both hoped they would be, the fact still remains that you are the only member of this coven suited for being its Head. Just, perhaps, not suited for every aspect of it. You could hardly run a meeting for the other Coven Heads with just your inane hand signs or whistles, could you?”  He laughed again, though this time more sharply.

There was a pause before Hunter’s mind recovered enough to catch on that he was meant to reply. He shook his head weakly. No, I couldn’t.

“You’ll need… How should we put this? An assistant? An aid.” Belos tapped his chin thoughtfully while Hunter tried not to throw up all over his shoes. “Regardless, it will have to be another high-ranking member of the coven as they will be dealing with highly confidential information.”

Hunter pressed his lips together, teeth grinding under the tension in his jaw. Kikimora.

“Yes, her. Again, we don’t have many alternatives, do we?”

No, sir.

Belos gave a small shrug, beginning to turn away. “So, while Kikimora is hardly suitable to be the coven’s face, she will do fine as its voice, until a suitable replacement is available. She can handle leading the meetings and the paltry little tours and whatnot. You can handle the rest of the responsibilities, I trust. And, rest assured, I anticipate this being a short-term arrangement.”

Hunter understood what that meant. Kikimora wasn’t the only one on the verge of being replaced. If he didn’t prove himself before an option with less baggage presented itself, his place in the coven was as good as gone. Belos had turned completely away now, and Hunter knew what that meant too. The conversation was over.

Willing his legs not to shake, he stood and bowed. Then, as quickly as he could, he placed his mask back over his face and pulled up his hood. It brought some relief to be hidden, but it was like putting a few drops of cool water on a burn. Wholly insufficient.

Hunter made his way out of the room more through muscle memory than any real conscious decision. His mind spun rapidly between This is my chance to prove myself and I almost just lost everything.

“Oh, and Hunter…”

He stopped but found himself unable to turn and face his uncle again.

“I’m sure you understand that this means you will inherit all of the missions that Lilith had been attending to, including the vitally important one she failed so miserably at.” The silence that followed continued until Hunter finally turned around again. Belos’ eyes were cold with fury. “Keep an eye on the wild witch. And keep an even closer eye on that human girl.”

——

Most of the time, Darius left Coven Head meetings feeling bored out of his mind, maybe with a mix of irritation if he was lucky. Lilith very rarely called them together for anything actually important and even less rarely conducted the meeting in any sort of engaging way. Usually, they met just to formally say things that everyone already knew in the longest amount of time possible.

Today was different.

Darius knew it would be. Lilith had nearly gotten petrified with her sister and then abandoned the coven in perhaps the most dramatic way imaginable. The Emperor’s Coven had lost its Head, and a new one had to be chosen. There was no universe in which that meeting was boring. No, it was probably going to be a shit show. Darius couldn’t wait.

It seemed he wasn’t alone in this sentiment, as when he arrived (five minutes early, as always) almost all of the other Heads were already there. He took his usual seat between Eberwolf and Vitimir, Head of the Potions Coven. There was more chatter in the room than normal, most of which was just people suggesting increasingly absurd options for a replacement. In what world was Belos choosing Warden Wrath?

“Have you heard any rumors?” Darius leaned over to ask Eberwolf, who had been eerily quiet.

He only gave a small sniff in reply, which almost certainly meant he had overheard something, and he didn’t want to say. Darius hummed, sitting back. Interesting.

“This is a little ridiculous, isn’t it?” Vitimir muttered, fiddling with his box of ingredients. “Why do we need a meeting just to hear a name? They could’ve just sent a crow. I’m so terribly busy the last thing I want-”

“We’re all busy,” Darius said, ignoring the fact that the man had definitely been talking to himself. “And these meetings almost always could’ve just been a crow. At least this one is interesting.”

Vitimir shot him a dirty look, large eyes narrowing, but before he could retort, the doors to the room flew open. Everyone turned to see two small figures marching their way in: The Golden Guard and Kikimora. They strode in side by side, which would have been unsettling were it not for the fact that they were both obviously trying and failing to outpace the other. An odd pair to run a meeting like this. It was well known that they were on less than friendly terms (although who was really on friendly terms with the little prince?). They came to a stop at the head of the table, exchanging a small glance. The Golden Guard assumed his typical stiff guard-stance; one arm tucked behind his back and the other holding his staff. For a moment, Darius wondered if he’d finally start talking to them again, but Kikimora stepped forward to address the room.

“Thank you all for gathering so quickly on such short notice. As I’m sure you’re aware, Lilith has turned traitor and has been removed from her position as Coven Head,” She began, folding her claws neatly in front of herself. “Therefore, the Emperor has elected a new head.”

“Yes, yes, dear, we knew all of that,” Terra cut in. “Just spit it out already. Who’s the new head?”

Kikimora huffed irritably, then, through gritted teeth, she continued. “As I was going to say, Emperor Belos has elected-” She raised a hand to gesture to her side. “The Golden Guard as the new head of the Emperor’s Coven.”

The room fell silent. Darius barely suppressed a scoff. Seriously? A child? He had thought Kikimora was winding up to say her own name. As unpleasant as that would have been, at least it would have made some sense. The little prince was skilled, sure, but he was hardly mature enough to run a coven. His refusal to speak to anyone other than his uncle for the last few years was proof enough of that. Although, this new appointment surely meant the end of that little tantrum. There was no way he could run a coven without speaking. Oddly, Darius couldn’t help but be pleased with that particular consequence. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he sometimes missed the kid’s snark.

Once it was clear the shock was wearing off, Kikimora broke the silence, turning to the Golden Guard. “Would you like to address them before I continue?”

The Golden Guard remained silent, staring resolutely ahead like she hadn’t spoken. Darius frowned.

Kikimora rolled her eyes. “Very well.” She turned back to the table. “Since the Golden Guard already has a large number of responsibilities, the emperor thought it would be prudent to assign certain tasks, such as leading Coven Head meetings, to someone else. That way the Golden Guard can focus on more… outward facing tasks.”

Terra raised an eyebrow. “What exactly are you saying.”

“I’m saying that the emperor has appointed me to act as his- his aid.”

Saying the word sent a shiver of disgust through Kikimora’s body and made the Golden Guard’s shoulders tense. Clearly this was not a happy arrangement. It was also completely unprecedented and utterly incomprehensible. The emperor trusted his nephew enough to be Coven Head but not enough to deal with the other Coven Heads? Was this a punishment? Or an attempt to feed into the rivalry between him and Kikimora?

The little demon gave her head a shake as if dispelling a similar spiral of questions. “What really concerns all of you, however, is that it also means there are a few of Lilith’s outstanding missions that will have to be delegated to some of you,” she said, tone becoming smug. “Most pressing of which being her annual trip to the knee to visit-”

“Rizhac!”  Adrian gasped. “You can’t be serious-”

“Of course I’m serious. It has to be done and he-”

“Well obviously he shouldn’t do it,” Terra sneered. “But there’s no reason you can’t do it. We’re busy enough as it is.”

Kikimora recoiled. “And you think I’m not?!”

With that, the room erupted with shouted accusations and deflections. Darius put his head in his hands with a sigh.

Rizhac was a retired coven leader and an extremely knowledgeable one at that. There were certain highly powerful and highly confidential potion ingredients that only he knew how to make. After retiring, he agreed to write out the process for each of these ingredients on one condition: someone had to come visit him once a year. After each visit, he’d hand over another method for making one of the ingredients. This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the fact that Rizhac was the most snobby, self-aggrandizing, unpleasant person to ever live. You either left his presence in tears or throwing punches at walls. Tolerating regular visits with him was possibly the only thing that Darius had respected Lilith for. Now, unsurprisingly, nobody wanted to take her place. Which meant they were going to be here for a long time.

Several minutes of unproductive shouting later, the Golden Guard raised his hand to silence them, but the arguing continued. After a moment, he slammed his fist on the table with a resounding thump. Everyone shut up. The Golden Guard straightened up slowly and the raised a finger to point at Vitimir. Everyone turned to look at the Potions Head.

“Wh- Me?” He balked, wide eyes glancing around the room in bewilderment. “I’m far too busy! Why should I be the one to do it?”

“Yes, we all have enough responsibilities as it is. It should be Kikimora,” Hettie said for possibly the hundredth time.

But the Golden Guard just shook his head, pointing again at Vitimir.

Darius rolled his eyes. “Use your words, boy. Don’t just point.”

The Golden Guard’s head snapped to look at Darius, gaze sharp even behind the mask. Once, a comment like that would’ve prompted an equally snarky comeback. Now, he just carefully folded his hand back behind his back, returning to his at-attention stance, as if to say No, I don’t have to. So be it.

“I think what the little prince is trying to say, Vitimir, is that you’re the only one of us who has any kind of existing relationship with Rizhac.”

“Well yes- but- you see-” Vitimir spluttered.

“That’s true, you were in the same coven.” Terra nodded, a cruel smile crossing her face.

“But I-”

“Are you doubting the authority of the leader of the Emperor’s Coven?” Kikimora asked, clearly pleased to no longer be on the defensive.

“Of course not!”

“Then the mission is yours.”

Again, Vitimir looked around the room for support. Finding none, he growled, “Fine then. Perhaps I will just have to convince Rizhac to give up the rest of the ingredients all at once.”

“You can certainly try.” Kikimora gibed. “Now then, there are a few other missions to assign.”

The rest of the meeting went by with significantly less shouting. After all the excitement, it actually ended up being pretty run-of-the-mill. The only unusual thing being the silent figure standing at the head of the table. Was he going to do this at all of their meetings? Or was he just not going to show up? Would he seriously trust Kikimora to run them herself? Then again, he was quite literally trusting her to speak for him.

That didn’t make any sense. None of this made any sense. Not electing a child to such an important position, not assigning Kikimora to be his aid, not the Golden Guard’s utter refusal to speak even now. There was something else going on. It was either very, very bad or very, very stupid. At the end of the meeting, as everyone shuffled out to figure out how to fit their new responsibilities into their already tight schedules, Darius approached the Golden Guard.

“Congratulations on the promotion. I’m sure you and Kikimora will make a great team.”

The kid just stared at him with that stupid blank mask. Then he tilted his head forward in vague acknowledgment.  

Darius sighed. “Tell me, how long do you intend to keep up your little silent treatment act?”

He gave even less of a response to that. Just a slight turn of the head, like he was breaking eye contact.

“Really, you should know better. That uniform of yours means you have a lot to live up to.” Darius waved a hand at his outfit. “Childish tantrums are hardly the way to do that.”

With that, he made his way out of the room, not once looking back to see the way the Golden Guard had begun to tremble.

Chapter Text

Hunter had never slept well. His whole life, he’d had trouble falling asleep, trouble staying asleep, and trouble sleeping in (not that he had many opportunities to try). Still, the older he got, the harder it all became. It had gotten even worse ever since… well. Simply put, the last few years had been significantly worse. Nothing he couldn’t manage, though. Sure, there were nights when he awoke drenched in sweat and clutching at his throat. But those nights were (technically) the minority. Exhaustion was just another of those useless biological urges—like hunger or fear—that he had to push down until it went away. He was well-trained and in control of himself.

But now? His worst nights from two years ago were not even worth comparing with what he now faced on a nightly basis.

Most nights, he lay motionless, staring at his ceiling as it morphed from pitch black to dark blue to warm yellow, his mind spinning as it tried to work through an endless sea of problems. When his eyes did slide shut, it was only to trap him in a cycle of nightmares. Drowning in his own blood under the cold gaze of his uncle. Begging unhearing scouts for help as a beast tore his flesh apart. Stepping into the throne room only to see someone else in his uniform standing by the emperor’s side.

Strangely, the worst one was of clawing his way through dirt. It pressed down on his chest, constricting his lungs. It filled his mouth every time he tried to breathe. When his fingers broke the surface, the air was so sharply cold it sent shocks of pain down his arm. Emerging from the ground, he looked up to see his uncle, who had such a strange look on his face. Some mix of disgust and satisfaction. Hunter had only a moment to try and decipher what it meant before the ground began to pull him back under. As he scrambled uselessly against it, Belos spoke words that haunted him well into the waking world.

“Let’s hope you do better than the last one.”

It had only been a week and a half since he’d been promoted, and he was already falling apart at the seams. It didn’t make much sense why his new position had been so destructive to his sleeping habits, but it had been. There was just too much on his mind. His workload had doubled as he took on most of the ongoing missions Lilith had been in charge of. Plus, there was now the near-constant stream of captains and scouts coming to him about this problem or that. Most of the time, he could work something out with them through his usual methods. When that wouldn’t work, he had to send them to Kikimora, which… The situation with Kikimora was tense at best and actively hostile at worst.

It was quite possible that she hated their new dynamic even more than he did, which would be quite the feat. She’d been an assistant to one person or another for as long as Hunter could remember. Only ever just an assistant. And, technically, getting moved to primarily being a Coven Head’s assistant instead of the emperor’s assistant was a demotion. Consequently, she made it clear with every hateful glance and snide remark that she wanted nothing more than for Hunter to fail so she could take his place. And he wanted her gone just as much.

It was destined to be a short-term arrangement, indeed. When it came to an end, Hunter needed to make sure he was the one left on the inside. The simplest way of doing that would be to win back Belos’ trust and regain his speech. Which he was trying to do but… Well, sometimes it felt like swimming against the current. So, if he couldn't prove he was trustworthy of speech, he needed to find another method for communicating that would make Kikimora's 'aid' unnecessary. One that wouldn't give away his real... situation. His militaristic hand signals and whistling weren't, as Belos pointed out, going to cut it. It needed to be clear to everyone, not just those who’d learned his code.

Of course, there was a language, comprised of both hand signs and visual spells, that deaf and mute witches used to communicate. But learning that language would give away that he couldn't speak, that something had happened to him. Plus, he doubted all (if any) of the Coven Heads could speak it. No, it needed to be subtle, universal, and clear. Something like that had to exist, right?

Maybe after a few more sleepless nights, he’d figure it out.

In the meantime, he’d do his work and make sure to keep an eye on the wild witch and her human apprentice. Which might end up being easier than he thought, seeing as said human had apparently decided to tag along on his mission to kill the selkidomus.

——

Luz had anticipated this particular plan panning out in one of two ways: either she successfully captured the beast and returned with the prize money to a disgruntled but proud Eda, or she failed spectacularly and limped her way home to look for a different bounty. Obviously, she was pretty determined to land that first option. And she had! She had won the sailors over and caught the selkidomus with her glyphs and it was all going perfectly and then—

“Eda!” Luz cried, staring down at the supposed ‘ghost pirate’.

Eda chuckled sheepishly. “Hey.”

“Why are you robbing our ship?!” She gestured towards where the bag of money had been swept away. Then her eyes fell a little lower and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “And what happened to your legs?”

Eda snapped her fingers, and a pair of boots popped out of her makeshift boat, hopping their way over and reattaching to her legs. “It's called ‘disguising your tracks’.” She stood, hands landing on her hips. “Now, why were you on that ship to begin with? You coulda' gotten killed!”

Luz shrank back, eyes falling to the ground. This was really not the way this was supposed to go. She opened her mouth—probably to babble out a disjointed series of half-explanations—and was promptly interrupted by a loud splash. They both spun to see a giant fist form from the water, rising up and then crashing into the ground a few feet away, leaving behind the steaming figure of a scout. Only, as he straightened up, Luz realized it wasn’t a normal scout. His mask was gold.

Eda tensed for a fight. “The Golden Guard.”

Luz made a small noise at the back of her throat, thinking back to the market. He was the one they’d seen on all of those posters, the new Head of the Emperor’s Coven. What had Lilith said about him? He was some kind of prodigy… and a brat who only speaks to those he deems worthy? Regardless, he definitely wasn’t an ally.

“What do you want?” Luz demanded, readying a fire glyph.

The Golden Guard observed them silently for a moment. Then he set the birdcage he’d been holding gently on the ground. He walked up to Eda’s little boat, made a show of looking all around it, then exaggeratedly shook his head in disappointment.

“Your money’s gone, Golden Guard. I’ve already hidden it somewhere you’ll never find it,” Eda taunted, crossing her arms.

“His money?” Luz frowned. “Did that ship belong to the Emperor’s Coven?”

“They’re the only ones worth robbing,” Eda said out of the side of her mouth. Then she faced the Golden Guard again. “Like I said, the money’s well hidden. Let us go and I might consider returning it.”

The Golden Guard drummed his fingers on his staff. Then he looked down at the water. Then back at Eda. Then back at the water. Then slowly back at Eda. He wasn’t buying it.

Eda, clearly sensing the same, changed tactics. “And why are you guys hunting the selkidomus? It's a peaceful creature, and you're provoking it!”

He just shrugged.

There was a tense moment of silence before Eda muttered, “Okay, I’ve had enough of this.”

Ripping her arm off to use as a makeshift weapon, she charged the Golden Guard. He was clearly anticipating this because he sidestepped her swing easily. She let out a frustrated growl, making several more swipes at him, but he danced around each of them just as effortlessly. He rested his staff casually on his shoulders, spinning around Eda once more before kicking her in the back. She landed with an oof.

Luz was already running forward, but a surge of protectiveness had the words “Leave Eda alone!” spilling out of her.

She had two fire glyphs prepared, unleashing the first one just inches from his head. By all rights, it should have hit, but he ducked out of the way without even fully turning. Her next shot was much more frantic and unbalanced, so maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising when that one didn’t land either. Next thing she knew, he’d vanished from her line of sight, and a wave of gravel sprang up from the ground to smash into her back. She landed directly on top of Eda. All in all, the fight lasted barely ten seconds.

Neither of them had time to even sit up properly before the ground beneath them began to shift. Luz looked up to see the Golden Guard holding out his staff. It emanated an unnatural, almost sickly red glow. He swept it forward, sending Luz and Eda careening towards the boiling sea. The small wave of gravel carried them out over the water’s edge. From this close, Luz could see the steam rolling off the bubbling surface. All he had to do was release his spell and they’d both be goners. For a moment, he let them hang above the writhing bubbles.

“Alright!” Eda called stiffly, eyes locked on the water. “You’ve proven your point, you could kill us both easily, we get it!”

The Golden Guard tilted his head to the side, and even with the mask, Luz could tell he was smiling smugly. He was definitely enjoying this. The gravel beneath them receded, plopping them safely back onto dry land. Luz pushed herself up, glaring at the Golden Guard as he nonchalantly walked back over to pick up his weird little birdcage.

“The money’s lost and you know it!” She pointed at him accusingly. “So, you can stop messing with us and just spit out what you want us to do to pay it back.”

When he turned to look back at them, something in his silent gaze unnerved Luz. What was with the silence, anyway? Wouldn’t his taunting and threatening be more effective if he spoke? Lilith had mentioned something about it being a pride thing, but for some reason, Luz felt like there was more to it. The silence was heavy, like it was desperate to be filled with words that just didn’t come. She shrank back from it subconsciously.

As the Golden Guard walked back over to them, he gestured with his staff towards a cave farther up the beach. There was a line of tracks leading towards it. Selkidomus tracks, Luz realized. That’s right. For some reason, the emperor wanted it dead. She looked back up at him, stomach sinking. Surely he didn’t mean…

He waved his staff, and a small bundle of what looked like meat formed in the air, slowly morphing into the shape of a cutlass. It clattered to the ground, glinting menacingly. Luz let out a distressed whine. He did. He did mean what she thought. He wanted them to kill the selkidomus. When both Luz and Eda remained frozen in place, the Golden Guard shook his head in exaggerated exasperation. He lifted up the birdcage, pulling back the blanket to reveal a disgruntled-looking King, who let out a befuddled "Weh??"

So that’s where he’d gone off to. Luz cursed herself for not keeping a closer eye on him.

Luz and Eda gasped as he dangled the birdcage over the boiling water. The implication was pretty clear. Kill the selkidomus or he’d kill King. Luz dug her fingers into the gravel. How had she managed to get them into yet another life-threatening situation? All she was trying to do was make some money. Repay Eda. Now King was in danger and it was all her fault.

“Fine.” Luz stood, snatching the sword off the ground. “I'll do it.”

She turned and raced into the cave, not stopping to heed Eda calling after her. She was going to make this right.

——

Hunter wouldn’t admit this to anyone (he even hesitated to admit it to himself), but his least favorite kind of mission was beast hunting. Obviously, he didn’t love going up against super deadly creatures that could burn all his flesh off with a sneeze or swallow him whole and have room for seconds. Most people would probably feel the same (which wasn’t an excuse, he wasn’t supposed to be like most people). Yet strangely, he hated hunting the benign creatures even more.

It didn’t make much sense. Those missions were some of the easiest, if a little tedious at times. And for most of the mission, he’d be fine. It was only really the end that bothered him, the moment he actually had to kill. He’d stand above the beast as it cowered, usually bristling with teeth bared in one last-ditch attempt to seem intimidating. It would look up at him as he raised his staff to deliver the final blow, and every time, without fail, he’d hesitate.

The Golden Guard didn’t hesitate. He completed missions with speed and precision. It didn’t matter how weak or peaceful the creature was; if the emperor said it needed to die, then it needed to die. Their fear (or the equally present fear of the deadly beasts) shouldn’t matter. Hunter hesitated every time, and he hated himself for it.

So, standing on the gravelly beach, waiting for the wild witch and the human to return, he told himself he’d only sent them in there to mess with them. He was sending a message, displaying the power of the Emperor’s Coven. He wasn’t trying to avoid having to do the actual killing himself. He wasn’t. The Golden Guard did not shirk responsibility.  

His train of thought was getting unpleasant, so he decided to distract himself by messing with the little demon he’d caught. He lifted the shade to the birdcage and watched as the little guy snapped awake, spinning around with a disgruntled “Weh?”. When he dropped the shade, the demon settled immediately with a small sigh of relief. Hunter repeated this several times, a smile growing behind his mask. It was actually weirdly endearing.

The little game was cut off by the gravel-shaking roar of the selkidomus. He looked up to see the shadow of the beast just inside the cave entrance. Beneath it, the shadow of the human and the wild witch appeared. The beast swung wide with its tail and they both ducked at the last second. The wild witch leapt into the air, delivering a spinning kick directly on the selkidomus’ snout. The beast screeched in frustration, batting her back into the ground with one powerful blow. Hunter straightened up, taking a nervous step forward. He hadn’t really considered the possibility that the selkidomus might kill them. It was a large and powerful creature, true, but the wild witch was right, it was predominantly peaceful.

Before he could start to wonder if he should intervene, the human jumped forward, brandishing the sword he’d given her. With an honestly impressive strike, she slit the creature’s throat. Strangely brutal, given the impression he had of her. But it was effective. That was all that mattered.

Hunter pointedly ignored the relief (both that the beast hadn’t killed them and that he hadn’t had to kill the beast) that rose in him as soon as it was over. As the human staggered out of the cave, dragging the corpse behind her, he stepped forward to meet her.

——

Luz tensed when she saw the Golden Guard approaching. If he got too close, he might realize their little ruse. She hadn’t really had time to come up with a backup plan… not that she usually did. Thankfully, he only took a few steps before recoiling. He waved a hand in front of his face, making a small noise of disgust. Fitting, that that was the first sound she’d heard him make.

 She let go of the fake corpse, reaching a hand out. “I did what you wanted. Now give me King.”

The Golden Guard looked her over for a moment, and she willed her poker face to remain strong. He nodded briskly, then he carelessly tossed King's cage over to them. Luz caught it, a swell of relief rushing through her. Eda poked her head out of the cave as the Golden Guard made his way back to the shore. She gave Luz a thumbs-up. They got away with it.

The Golden Guard lifted his staff, getting ready to leave. Then he paused, looking back at Luz. He raised his pinky finger, placing it against his forehead and then pointing it at her. Beside her, Luz noticed Eda tense. Then he hopped onto his staff and gave a chipper wave goodbye, vanishing in a flash of red.

"What a slimy little jerk..." Eda breathed, stepping all the way out of the cave.

"What did that hand signal mean?" Luz asked, repeating the motion.

Eda grimaced. "Not a common human sign, huh? Nah, I guess it wouldn't be. It's like... a warning. A very rude warning."

"Like 'I'm gonna getcha'?"

"More like 'You're gonna get what's coming to you if you aren't careful.'"

"Oh." Luz looked back over the sea. "What a jerk."

Chapter Text

Find me more palismen. I can depend on you, right?

The words reverberated through Hunter’s skull as he marched down the hall. This mission was critical. His uncle was in pain and was depending on him. Finding more palismen would mean easing that pain, if only for a little while, and maybe- maybe even restoring some lost trust between them. Failing to do so would mean… Well, it wasn’t worth pondering because he wasn’t going to fail.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, so laser-focused on what his next steps would be, that as he rounded a corner, Hunter ran headfirst into someone. The collision made them both stumble backwards.

“Agh! Honestly, watch where you’re going,” came a familiar disgruntled voice.

And, indeed, when Hunter’s head snapped up in horror, he came face to face with Darius. He’d just slammed into a Coven Head. To make matters worse, there were several other Coven Heads in the hallway, staring at the two of them. They had probably been discussing what they’d seen of the Day of Unity. So, really, really not a great time to be careening into them.

After he finished dusting himself off, Darius finally seemed to register who exactly had run into him and, somehow, his expression soured even more. “Ah, little prince. I understand that you’re a very eager lapdog, but I seriously doubt whatever mission you’re on requires that you take corners blindly. You could’ve scuffed my shoe.”

Glaring daggers from behind his mask, Hunter bowed politely. My apologies.

“Just be more careful.”

“Perhaps the emperor should assign little Kikimora to escort you through the halls, Golden Guard,” Terra said, appearing from behind Hunter, startling both him and the rest of the Coven Heads. “How are you two getting along? Like peas in a pod, I assume.”

“It’s a little childish to antagonize a teenager, isn’t it Terra?” Darius said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what were you doing?”

Darius bristled. “I was just trying to teach him-”

With that, Hunter slipped out from between the two of them. He was not at all interested in hearing this argument play out. Besides, he didn’t have time for petty coven squabbles. If his intel from a few days ago was correct, he was pretty sure he knew a place to find palismen. Tilting his head in another small bow of acknowledgement to the other Coven Heads, Hunter took off again down the hall.

——

Hunter had never been to Hexside before. In fact, he’d never physically been to any school. All of his education had been conducted at the castle. Steering his airship over the grounds, he couldn’t help but constantly look down at it. Somehow, it was both larger and smaller than he’d imagined. Larger in scale and smaller in scope, maybe.

He had thought a lot about what going to school would be like when he was younger. The few fiction stories he had read described it rather bleakly. Classes were boring, teachers were mean, and the protagonists were always complaining about homework. But there was always one bright spot: the friends. Sure, the protagonist might have to worry about bullies or who to ask to grom, but they always managed to overcome those obstacles with their friends by their side. That was what Hunter had wondered about the most. What would it be like to have a group of friends? People he could hang out with. Relax around. Be accepted by.

Now that he was older and (he liked to think) more mature, he knew that envying normal kids was stupid. First of all, fiction stories were just that: fictional, fake. Belos was right, they were a waste of time and a distraction. Second, friends were a luxury he couldn’t afford. Because Hunter had many more important things to do. He had the privilege of serving in the Emperor’s Coven. How many kids would kill for his life? A lot, probably. He was lucky. So, yeah, if anything, he pitied the kids who went to that school down there.

At last, he reached the grudgby field and, sure enough, there was a small hut in the center. Carefully, he maneuvered the airship so he was hovering above the nest. Then he lowered the claw until he heard it make contact. Once he was certain it was secured, he took off again. He had to adjust a bit to steering with the added weight, but overall, it was stupidly easy. Hunter laughed to himself. For once, a mission was going by without a hitch.  

He drummed a little beat on the wheel, wishing he could still whistle without the use of his hands. Then again, maybe he would be able to again soon. Really, Hunter hadn’t been in such a great mood in a long time.

Then something slammed into his back.

“Hi-yah!”

Hunter had just enough time to turn and see the human grinning smugly at him before he was rocketed off his ship.

——

Luz watched as the fire glyph propelled the Golden Guard into the floor of his ship, then the ceiling, then sent him spiraling out into the night. She pursed her lips for a moment, wondering if perhaps she had gone too far.

“Eh, he'll be fine.” She waved a hand before bending over the controls. “Okay, how do I land this thing?”

There were a lot more buttons and strings and nobs than she’d been expecting. None of which were labeled ‘Land’. She could try pulling stuff randomly, but that felt like a bad idea. Maybe her best bet would be to steer it towards the owl house and then call for Eda to come out and help her. Straightening back up to do exactly that, Luz sprang back in surprise. The Golden Guard was lying on the dashboard, patiently waiting for her to finish. He wiggled his fingers in a sarcastic hello.

“Wah- you-”

Luz didn’t get the chance to finish. A spell slammed into her, sending her flying to the back of the airship. By the time she had landed, the spell had formed into a rope around her arms and chest.

“Hey!” She squawked, wiggling against her constraints.

The Golden Guard dusted himself off, hopping down from the dashboard.

She balled up her fists. “Why are you stealing palismen, Golden Guard?”

He turned to her slowly. In a flash of red magic, he materialized in front of her, staff at the ready. Luz blinked against the rush of wind and the sudden light. If the tension in his body was anything to go off, he was real mad. Good. Luz was mad too.

She waited, glaring up at him. Surely this would be the moment that he finally broke his silence. If Lilith’s characterization of him was accurate, he was probably gonna say something snide or sardonic. She readied all her snappiest comebacks. But he just stood there, clutching his staff, like he was trying to beam all his nasty remarks directly into her brain. It was kind of dorky.

Luz smirked. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

He made a strange noise at the back of his throat, snapping back upright. They stared at each other for a moment. Then, sweeping his cloak so he nearly smacked her in the face with it, he returned to the front of the ship. Luz raised an eyebrow. That was an odd reaction. Maybe that was a noise of annoyance or disgust? Like, How dare this peasant human talk to me in such a manner! or something. That seemed like the sort of thing he’d say. If he ever decided to talk to her, that is.

She glared down at the floor, a little frustrated with her predicament. Drawing one of her legs in, she noticed the scuff marks her shoe left on the deck. Okay, she could work with this. As subtly as possible, she began to draw a circle.

"Say,” she began, “how did you get back on the ship so fast?”

The Golden Guard threw a hand loosely in the direction of his staff, as if to say Duh.

She nodded. “Oh, okay. Cool.”

With that, she slammed her foot on the glyph, and a spear of ice shot out of it. It hit his staff dead on, sending it flying out of the airship. The Golden Guard gasped, reaching out to catch it far too late. Luz chuckled smugly. Perfect shot. There was another long moment of silence. Then the Golden Guard turned towards her, hands curled into fists at his sides.

But before he could glare in menacing silence at her again, the whole airship lurched. They both slid to one side, looking around in confusion. Above them, some strange hand-like dragon had landed.

“What- what the heck is that?” Luz cried.

With one flick of its long, spiked tongue, the creature tore a massive hole in the top of the airship. Then, they were falling.

——

In some ways, being unconscious was preferable to being asleep.

It meant that you didn’t have to dream. You didn’t have to be aware of anything at all. You were totally cut off from the waking world, sinking slowly deeper into emptiness. It was the only place you were guaranteed to be safe from the problems of reality.

Of course, waking up from being unconscious was hardly fun. It was strikingly unpleasant, actually. Sometimes nauseating, sometimes painful, sometimes both. And reality, with all its ugly problems, always crashed down on you with more weight than before. Yeah, it really sucked.

It sucked even more when someone was slapping you awake.

Hunter’s eyes snapped open, and he gasped. A sharp stinging sensation was blossoming on his cheek, right alongside the throbbing post-knockout headache. For a moment, everything was a jumbled mess of blurry shapes and disjointed memories. Then the human’s face snapped into focus, and it all came back to him. You! He scowled at her, which he realized she’d actually be able to see since, apparently, his mask had disappeared in the crash. Before he could sit up, she slapped a hand over his mouth, which was just- ridiculous for so many reasons.

“Shh!” She leaned in, glaring down at him. “Listen, you are a bad person, and I do not like you. But Kikimora is trying to kill you and unfortunately, I'm too nice to let that happen.”

Okay. That was enough of that. Hunter opened his mouth slightly and sank his teeth into one of her fingers. She recoiled immediately with a squeal, clutching her hand to her chest. He rolled his eyes. She was overreacting; he didn’t even break skin.

“You bit me!” she cried. “What is wrong with you?!” She used her other hand to shove his face into the dirt. “Ugh, seriously- I’m trying to help you!”

Hunter tried to push her off, grunting angrily. Yeah, right. Like she had any reason to try and help him. They shoved at each other until they were interrupted by the distant hiss of a hand dragon. Both of them froze, exchanging a look. Even though he seriously doubted the human’s motives, Hunter did not for one second doubt that Kikimora was trying to kill him. If anything, he was a little surprised it had taken her this long. So, it was probably a good idea for them to get out of here. He started to sit up, but the human raised a hand to stop him.

“I think it’s tracking your scent,” she whispered.

Hunter nodded, unclipping his cloak. It pained him a little to leave it behind. Belos was never happy when he wrecked his uniform on missions. Appearance was very important for the Golden Guard. Unfortunately, that ship had already sailed, seeing as his mask had disappeared. The best he could hope for now was bringing in enough palismen that Belos would be willing to overlook it.

As Hunter stood, blinking black spots out of his vision, the human waved for him to follow her. He did so without complaint, mostly because he was still feeling pretty disoriented. They crept behind a wall of plants just as the hand dragon appeared. It sniffed around a bit before its eyes landed on the abandoned cloak. With surprising speed for a creature so large, it sprang forward, snapping the garment up into its mouth.

Hunter paused for just a moment to watch. Something twisted in his gut as he imagined still being attached to the cloak currently being ripped apart. This was too close of a call. He should’ve been more vigilant, shouldn’t have let the human distract him. And he needed to rectify the situation. Fast.

Apparently, they had crashed not too far from Latissa. Approaching the grungy little town, Hunter took the lead. The human had his staff, but it was fairly obvious that she had no idea how to use it, so he let her hold it. There was also a little bird palismen perched on her shoulder that he was pretty certain wasn’t hers. Which was good because it meant he definitely wouldn’t have to return empty-handed. He wasn’t sure what had happened to the rest of them, but it probably had something to do with Kikimora.

“Whew, man, Kikimora must hate you,” the human said as they made their way through the town.

Hunter rolled his eyes. No shit. She kept babbling, but he ignored her. He’d only been to Latissa a handful of times, but part of his training had entailed memorizing the layouts of major cities and towns on the isle. If he was right about which side they’d entered the city from, he was pretty sure the local precinct should be fairly close. Still, he kept a quick pace. If Kikimora had stolen his catch, time would be of the essence to ensure she didn’t take credit. He made a sharp turn and, from somewhere behind him, the human made a noise of surprise.

“Wha- wait!” She rushed to keep up. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

He didn’t look back at her.

She let out an agitated huff. “Hey man, I just saved your life, the least you could do is tell me your name.”

That got him to turn. He shot her the nastiest glare he could muster. Seriously? It was her fault they were even in this situation. He didn’t owe her anything.

Thankfully, the precinct came into view then, and the human slowed to a stop. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, like she hadn’t been expecting him to seek out other members of the coven. Whatever weird little plan she’d come up with, she clearly hadn’t thought it through.

Leaving her behind, Hunter marched towards the scouts. It wasn't until they turned their heads towards him that he realized he had no way of explaining his situation. These weren't scouts he usually worked with; they wouldn't understand his hand signs. He slowed to a stop. If he were in his uniform, they wouldn’t expect him to speak. But his mask and cape were gone.

“Do you need something, kid?” One of the scouts asked.

Hunter’s mouth parted slightly. They didn’t recognize him at all. What should he do? He couldn’t explain, he couldn’t communicate at all. The cold, jittery feeling of helplessness flooded his veins. He started to feel ill, like the ground was falling out from under him, and his chest tightened. Get a grip. He resisted the urge to slap himself. Stop freaking out and just think about it for a second, idiot.

“You okay?” The scout asked, head tilted in concern.

“Did your friend dare you to mess with us or something?” Another scout pointed behind him.

Hunter blinked, then turned to look at the human. She had come a bit closer, though she was still standing a safe distance away. Her brows were furrowed in confusion, but she stiffened when he looked at her, hands tightening around his staff. Hunter sucked in a small breath. That’s right! His staff. He could use it to prove who he was.

Slightly relieved, he held out his hand to her, making a ‘give me’ motion. She looked at him, then the staff, then back at him. Then she stepped back. Hunter balked.

“Isn't it a little late for you kids to be outside?”

Hunter didn’t even acknowledge the scout, eyes locked on his staff. Before he could even take a step, the human made a little ‘eep!’ sound at whatever she saw on his face and took off.

——

Didn’t saving someone’s life usually grant you at least a little bit of goodwill? As she sprinted through the packed market, dodging demons and leaping down staircases, Luz was pretty sure the Golden Guard was as far away from liking her as a person could be. It felt a little unfair. What had she ever done to him? Other than rocketing him off his airship and stealing his staff. But that was small potatoes in comparison to saving his life. Some people were so adverse to receiving help.

Rounding a corner, Luz stopped just long enough to draw an ice glyph in the dirt. She activated it just as the Golden Guard turned the corner, flying up to land on a rooftop. Pausing just a moment to catch her breath, she glanced over the side of the roof. The Golden Guard was staring up at her, not moving.

Luz raised an eyebrow. “Come on, Golden Guard. Don't you know any, like, levitation spells?”

She wiggled her fingers playfully. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t raise his hand to draw a spell circle. In fact, he dropped his gaze in… embarrassment? Luz frowned. Her eyes drifted to the staff in her hand.

“Are you…” she pointed at it, “powerless without this?”

The scowl he shot at her was answer enough. Luz didn’t really have a chance to process this revelation because he stepped back to get a running start, and in three leaps he had reached the rooftop. Luz scrambled away from the edge, more than aware of the fact that someone could be dangerous without magic. She realized she basically had nowhere to go and spun around. The staff buzzed strangely in her hands, responding to her intentions. Whatever spell she shot nearly hit the Golden Guard’s hand as he pulled himself up over the lip of the roof. The staff fired off two more shots before she could stop it, but the Golden Guard dodged both easily enough. He gave her a dirty look.

“Back up, or-” She didn’t really have a threat to follow that. She honestly didn’t want to hurt him. “…or else!”

Despite her very convincing deterrent, he started walking closer.

“I-I mean it!”

He stopped, but only to sweep his arms in front of himself, as if to say Go ahead. Do your worst. Luz chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to fight him, but she also couldn’t run away. She had to get the palismen back, they were depending on her. She was stuck. Judging by his smirk, the Golden Guard knew this as well as she did.

The tension of the moment was broken as a dark shadow fell across them. Luz looked up to see the hand dragon flying overhead. They both stepped up to the edge of the roof, watching as it landed in front of the precinct, gently setting down the palismen nest. Kikimora approached to give the creature a scritch under the chin. Beside her, Luz heard the Golden Guard huff in irritation.

“What’d I tell you?” She pointed down at the scene. “Seems to me like we have a common enemy.”

He looked over at her, eyes still narrowed.

“You don’t want her taking credit, right? So, why don’t we work together to take back those palismen?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me. Just a temporary truce.” She stuck out her hand.

After a long moment of consideration, he nodded in acceptance. Luz grinned, holding her hand a little further out and wiggling her fingers. He sighed but reached out to take her hand.

She yanked her hand away. “Too slow!”

Chuckling to herself, she scampered back to the center of the roof. He followed, crossing his arms with a slight pout.

“Alright! We’re gonna need a plan.” She put her free hand on her hip and looked around, eyes landing on a large wall to one side. “Aaaand I might have an idea.”

Glancing back, she saw the Golden Guard was still just silently watching her. He made a gesture for her to go on. Luz let out a little huff. He still wasn’t talking? This was getting a bit ridiculous, wasn’t it? She walked back over to him.

“Okay, listen, if we’re gonna have a truce, we’re gonna have to communicate. You gotta actually, y’know, talk to me for this to work.”

He pressed his lips together, looking away from her.

“Seriously dude?” She sighed. “Look, I promise I won’t tell anyone you dared to speak to a lowly plebian like me.”

Still nothing.

“Alright y’know what? I’m making that a part of my conditions for the truce. You have to talk to me or the deal’s off.”

Luz had been aiming for that slightly diplomatic, slightly annoyed, very stern tone that her mother used to use on her. She must’ve done a good job because he hiked his shoulders up and shame flooded his face. For a moment, she expected him to finally break. Instead, he turned all the way away from her. She blinked. Was he calling off the truce? Already?

Taking a few steps towards the roof’s edge, his crossed arms morphed into something more like a self-hug and he finally turned to meet her eyes again. His expression was raw and pleading, eyes wide with desperation. It was such an uncharacteristically earnest look that Luz recoiled a bit in shock. She didn’t know how to respond. What was he pleading for? For her to drop the ultimatum? Why on earth would he be that opposed to speaking? Unless-

“Unless…”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“You… can’t talk?”

There was a long moment of silence. Then he visibly steeled himself, reopened his eyes, and nodded.

Luz felt her stomach drop. Oh. Oh, she’d been an idiot. That made so much more sense. That was why he’d been using weird gestures on the beach instead of threatening them with words. That was why he had just stared at the scouts at the precinct instead of trying to explain himself. That was why he couldn’t meet her ultimatum. It wasn’t an ego thing. He actually, literally could not speak. And she’d been taunting him about it. Luz swallowed.

“Uhh, that’s-” She blew out a breath. “That’s okay. We can still make it work.”

That seemed to surprise him. He tilted his head, still hugging himself. It made Luz wonder how exactly he’d been expecting her to react. She put a hand on her chin, considering their options for communication. He was pretty good at using body language, but charades could only get them so far. She played up her hemming and hawing a bit, not missing the way her silly faces made his posture relax.

Luz snapped her fingers. “Y’know, I’ve played that ‘Hearing Things’ game a few times. So, I’m pretty good at reading lips.”

By ‘a few times’ she meant once, and by ‘pretty good’ she meant her team had barely scraped out the win. It was evidently not a very convincing fib because he just raised an eyebrow. She gestured for him to try. He put his hands on his hips and mouthed something.

"Hey, hey! You gotta go slower than that. Obviously."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he repeated himself slower. Luz squinted dramatically, quietly pleased at his small smile.

"Wah-wah coconut?" she guessed.

He rolled his eyes.

"Hm, okay. Maybe we try something else then. Uhhh, let's see... Well, the only sign language I know is 'thank you'," she put one hand to her mouth and then lowered it, "and 'I'm sorry'." She put a fist on her chest and rubbed it in a circle. "But that's not super helpful for our current situation... Then again, you could use the manners."

He huffed, but the smirk was still there.

"Plus, I guess it's human sign language, isn't it?" She scratched the back of her head. “I don’t know any witch sign language.”

That made him look away, smile disappearing. He shrugged. Luz sighed, looking around for inspiration. Her eyes fell to the busy street below. Despite the late hour, there were still a ton of demons and witches bustling around. Most of them were either talking to night market vendors, engaging in fist fights, or revving up to start a fist fight. A small green demon with mismatched ears running what looked like some kind of potions stand caught her eye. Or rather, the thin rectangle he was holding caught her eye. A chalkboard. Luz turned back to the Golden Guard with a grin.

“You know, I think I figured it out.”

Chapter Text

The human was strange.

That probably shouldn’t have surprised Hunter; she was from a whole other world. Maybe it was just that she wasn’t strange in the way he would have expected.

It had been horrible having to admit that he couldn’t speak, especially to an enemy. It had been years since his punishment, and yet being forced to acknowledge it had hurt like it happened yesterday. He had expected her to laugh or be disgusted or confused or even to break off their truce. But she didn’t. She just started looking for solutions, for ways to communicate. It… didn’t sit right with him.

Now, they were standing in the street, watching from a distance as a little demon interacted with his customers. In his hands was a small chalkboard. The human was making an odd face that Hunter assumed was meant to be pensive. She had reiterated several times as they made their way down from the roof that they were only going to borrow the chalkboard. If he could’ve, Hunter would’ve explained that he actually had jurisdiction to take whatever he needed to complete a mission. He could compensate the owner later.

Speaking of missions, it was such a relief to be able to slip back into his mission headspace. There was a clear goal to achieve and clear obstacles to analyze. He even sort of had a scout to command. Although the human wasn’t trained, he had to admit she wasn’t completely useless. After a minute of assessing the street, the little demon, and their potential escape routes, he had a plan.

Getting the human’s attention, he tapped his pinky and ring finger under his eye twice and pointed them to the left. Watch the perimeter and let me handle things head-on on but be ready to come in for backup. There was a decent chance that he’d be fast enough to just grab the chalkboard and run before the demon realized what happened. But sometimes stalls like these paid thugs to keep an eye out for thieves. If a scuffle started, Hunter would really need his staff back. Just as he was about to move in, Hunter hesitated. He glanced back at the human. She was tilting her head, looking at him with bewildered amusement. Right. Not a scout. She didn’t know his hand signs.

“I’m not sure what that meant,” she said, “but why don’t we do this: I’ll create a distraction and you sneak in and grab the chalkboard. Sound good?”

Well, he’d prefer his plan, but he didn’t really have any way to explain. Her plan would have to work. He nodded briskly. She gave two thumbs up and ran off. Hunter felt a brief flash of concern about what the human would consider a good distraction, but it was too late to go back now.

Making his way through the crowd, Hunter ducked behind a small stack of crates at the back of a stand selling amulets. From there, he crept from stall to stall, moving as quickly as he could without alerting any of the sellers. Just as he was drawing near to the potions stand, the human marched up to it, swinging his staff around haphazardly.

“Hello, my good man!” She greeted boisterously. “I am here because I am interested in your wares! No other reason!”

The demon blinked up at her. “A’right…”

“My! What fine bottles you have!” She picked up one of the potions, turning it this way and that.

“…Found it in da garbage.”

“Ah, an advocate of recycling, I can appreciate that.”

Hunter rubbed a hand down his face. This was stupid.

The little demon seemed to agree, eyeing her suspiciously. “Hm, ‘at one’s ‘pensive. Ya got snails for it?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s very expensive.” She started tossing the bottle up and down carelessly. “But I’m really just window shopping right now. I don’t have much cash on hand, you understand.”

“If ya ain’t buying, move out of da way.”

As he spoke, the little demon inched closer to the edge of the stool he was standing on, nervously watching her reckless handling of his potion. His grip on the chalkboard—which Hunter could now see was covered with orders for new potions—loosened. The human ignored his warning, rambling about nothing and tossing the potion around. Hunter inched closer, carefully watching for the moment when the demon’s grip released. The little red bird palismen, which had up to this point been quietly watching the scene from the human’s shoulder, chose that moment to spring into the air, knocking the potion out of the human’s hand.

The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion. The human and demon crying out in surprise. The bottle flipping through the air. The chalkboard beginning to fall as the demon reached out two desperate hands for his merchandise. And Hunter springing into action. He dove to catch the chalkboard, snagging it just before it could clatter against the ground. He ducked into a roll, springing back onto his feet as soon as he was on the other side of the stand. With that, he took off running.

Behind him, there was a loud smash and the fwoom of a cloud of smoke expanding. He glanced back. Ah. An obscuring potion. Had the human chosen it intentionally? Judging by the fact that she stumbled out of the cloud coughing and disoriented, probably not. Hunter slowed, just a bit, waving her on. She started to run after him.

“S-Sorry!” She wheezed, addressing the angry shouting coming from somewhere inside the smoke.

Hunter ducked into an alleyway, not slowing again until he reached the building they’d been on top of earlier. The human caught up only a few moments later, staggering more than running. She was making odd gasping, choking noises as she slowed to a stop. It sounded kind of painful. Hunter stepped closer to her as she bent over, hands on her knees. Had the smoke been toxic? But then she raised her head, and he realized she wasn’t coughing. She was laughing.

“Dude- that was- that was- you just- he-” She burst into laughter again.

The bird palismen arrived then, struggling to land on her shaking shoulders. Hunter stared down at her in bewilderment. What was so funny? They completed the mission rather sloppily. That really wasn’t funny.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” she said, finally getting herself back under control and standing up. “I mean it did, right? You got it?”

Hunter held up the chalkboard and she grinned. Then she hesitated.

“Did you grab a piece of chalk too?”

He blinked. Oh.

They both stared at the chalkboard. Then the bird palismen made a little noise, hopping up and down on the human’s shoulder. In its beak was a small white cylinder: chalk. The human held out her hand, and the bird dropped it into her palm.

“Woah! Way to go little rascal!” She cooed, holding up the piece in triumph. Then she grinned at Hunter, nudging him with her elbow. “Mission success. Oooh, this is exciting. Now, I can find out what’s going on in that head of yours.”

Hunter snatched the piece of chalk from her. Something twisted in his chest. Maybe, just maybe, he was kind of excited about it too.

——

The Golden Guard was a dork.

Yeah, he was crazy good at fighting and the leader of the Emperor’s Coven and everything. But he also took their chalkboard retrieval ‘mission’ super seriously, and he fell for the classic ‘too slow’ bait and switch like a rookie. Plus, the very first thing he wanted to do upon getting the chalkboard was teach her some basic combat hand signs. He didn’t even write hello or his name or anything. Once they got back on the roof, he just plopped down and started methodically writing out what he’d been trying to tell her back at the market.

Luz sat next to him, watching him write with surprising speed and precision. He had neater handwriting than her, that’s for sure. When he finished writing, he repeated the motions again, slower, pointing to his explanation as he went. Very dorky. But he was clearly excited to get the chance to explain it, so she tried to be a dutiful listener. In the end, she was glad they didn’t go with his plan because it sounded like much less fun than hers had been. When she told him as much, he wrote his first actual sentences to her.

Is that why your plans always go poorly? Because you’re too concerned with fun to think things through?

She gasped as she finished reading it, and he smirked. Okay, so he was half dork, half jerk.

“They do not always go poorly! We got the chalkboard, didn’t we?” She defended.

He shrugged. Seems like I could’ve gotten it with only the help of the little bird palismen.

“Alright buddy,” she crossed her arms, leaning back. “I didn’t get you that chalkboard so you could use it to insult me. We’re trying to get the palismen back, remember?”

That sobered him up so quickly she felt a little bad for the reprimand. It was unsettling, honestly, how quickly the mirth fled from his eyes. Now that he didn’t have his mask on, Luz couldn’t help but notice just how expressive he was with his face. His anger, his confusion, his amusement, it all shone through so vividly, so uncontrollably. Like his body physically couldn’t contain it, needed to express it. The only exception had been when she’d first seen him, lying unconscious on the ground after the crash. His face had been so still, so lax, that for a moment she’d thought he was dead. Well, because of that and the insane eyebags (did this guy ever sleep?).

Even now that he was trying to shut it off, to seem in control, there was clearly something else shining in his eyes. Luz didn’t really know him well enough to be able to tell what exactly, but it was there. It also probably wasn’t good, so she wanted to move on from that moment as quickly as possible.

“I do actually have a plan to get them back,” she said. “All we’ll need is some sleeping nettles, your chalk, and some good timing.”

He tilted his head, curiosity thankfully replacing the blank look.

She smiled a little. “Before we get to that though, maybe you could teach me a couple more signs? Just in case we need to communicate quickly.”

He nodded sharply. Having a clear objective seemed to reinvigorate him as he started writing immediately, face scrunching in concentration. They worked out a little system. He’d write out several meanings and then point to each one as he did the sign. Then he’d wait for Luz to repeat it. Pretty quickly though, Luz noticed a pattern with the signs he was picking: they were all militaristic. Pointing with two fingers meant flank the enemy, tapping his opposite shoulder with a fist meant stay close, three fingers tapped on his chin meant that something was dangerous and to be careful, and so on. It wasn’t really surprising for that to be the sort of thing that he wanted to teach her, but still. She wanted to actually be able to talk with him. So, when he started writing out another explanation, she cut him off.

“What about ‘hello’? How do you sign that? Or ‘sorry’?” She repeated the ASL sign, rubbing a fist in a circle on her chest. “Or ‘Where’s the bathroom?’”

He shook his head in exasperation. I’m not gonna need to ask you where the bathroom is.

“You never know.”

I’m pretty confident.

“C’mon,” she needled. “Don’t you witches have any signs that aren’t related to the field of battle?”

He scoffed, quickly writing Of course we do. But I don’t know any of them. I came up with these signs myself to communicate with the scouts on missions.

Luz stared at the words in silence for a moment. “Huh?”

Her reaction seemed to make him realize what he’d said. He scrubbed the words away quickly. It doesn’t matter. The signs I taught you should be enough.

“Wait, hang on-“ She sat up straight. “That’s right, Lilith didn’t know you couldn’t speak. Does nobody know?”

He glared down at the chalkboard.

“Why not? How is that even possible?”

Silence.

“Look, I just-”

Sharply, he drew a finger from one side of his face to the other, brushing along his lips.

Luz sighed. “I don’t know what that means.”

It means you don’t know what you’re talking about. So drop it.

She really didn’t want to drop it, but, based on the look on his face, pushing him wouldn’t get her anywhere. So, she just gave him an unimpressed look and said, "The fact you actually came up with a sign for that says a lot."

The gibe had its intended effect, and he relaxed a bit. About the scouts, maybe.

——

Hunter had put a lot of work into his system for communicating with the scouts. Years of work. So, truthfully, he was pretty proud of it. Getting to explain it to someone—actually explain, not just wait for them to pick it up via context clues—was more fun than it should have been. Even after the human reminded him that this was a mission, that Belos was counting on him to bring back those palismen, he could hardly resist the urge to keep going until he’d taught her all of the signs. Even if he did, he’d probably be tempted to teach her his different whistles too. Her enthusiasm to learn didn’t help, but he restrained himself to just what he thought was most relevant.

When they were done, she asked him to go find some sleeping nettles for whatever her weird plan was. Then she said something truly strange. “While you’re doing that, I’m gonna need to borrow your chalk. Is there anything else you wanna say first?”

The question took him so off guard that he shook his head without really thinking about it. Then she held out her hand, and he suddenly didn’t want to give it to her. They just stared at each other. The hesitation was stupid, pointless really, and yet she didn’t point that out. She just retracted her hand and smiled a little.

“What? Did you think of something?”

He hadn’t really, but he wrote down the first thing that came to mind anyway. What exactly is your plan?

She chuckled mischievously. “Well, it’s simple really. We need to intercept Kikimora as she’s leaving, right? But we don’t wanna spook her steed. So, first, I draw a combination fire and ice glyph on this.” She gestured to a large wall with several holes in it.

When Hunter tilted his head in confusion, she dropped to her knees to draw in the dirt.

“Like this, see?” she said, finishing an intricate pattern of two symbols connected by a circle. “Using these fire and ice spells, I can command the glyphs to produce a thick mist!”

Hunter crouched down to examine the glyphs before writing And the sleeping nettles?

“They're essential!” She beamed. “Combined with the magic mist, it'll create a sleep-inducing smoke. Then Kikimora will have no choice but to land. And she’ll be too disoriented to realize what’s going on before it’s too late.”

Now, that was really fascinating. Hunter started writing before she even finished speaking. This is just like a spell I read about in Bones to Earth: A Study of Wild Magic-

“Oh! I’ve read that book,” the human interjected, leaning forward to read as he wrote. “Eda once pickpocketed the guy who wrote it.”

I've never seen glyphs before, but it seems very similar to the elemental magic practiced in the Savage Ages.

“Huh,” she hummed. “Really?”

Hunter nodded rapidly, starting to write again. Something warm and foreign crawled through his chest. When was the last time he’d had a conversation with someone like this? Where they were actually using words to communicate, not just vague gestures and snide remarks? Where he got to talk about something other than work? Where the other person seemed to actually want to talk to him? Where he was being understood? The human could actually understand him. He actually had the chance to say exactly what he meant. She would wait for him to finish writing and ask questions and look him in the eye and-

No. No, she wasn't his ally. This was a temporary truce. She didn’t actually care about him; she just needed him to get the palismen back. He didn’t know why she was entertaining him in conversation like this, but it probably wasn’t good. Belos had never given him anything to write with so they could communicate. There must be a reason for that, right? It must be because it’s a bad idea. The human was manipulating him. Probably. Well, he wasn’t sure she was smart enough for that, but the point remained. He couldn’t trust her.

——

Abruptly, the Golden Guard stopped writing, eyebrows drawing together. Luz frowned as he roughly scrubbed the words away. What was with the shift in mood? He suddenly looked as angry and suspicious as he’d been before their truce.

"What's wrong?" she asked, watching the half-formed sentence about wild magic disappear.

He shot her a glare.

“What’s with the stink eye? What’d I say?”

He hesitated for a moment. We’re wasting time. Besides, we shouldn’t even be talking about wild magic. It's restricted for a reason. You should forget about it before you're hurt.

 “Uh huh…” Luz sighed. She knew exactly who that idea came from.

Standing up, he tried to hand her the chalk. But now she was the one hesitating to take it. Letting him close himself off didn’t feel right. Yeah, they were kind of on a time crunch but…

“Y’know,” she started, “other than Lilith, I've never spoken to someone inside the Emperor's Coven. What made you want to join?”

He rolled his eyes, still holding the chalk out for her to take.

“C’mon, don’t you guys love to ramble about how great it is? Well, I don’t buy all that propaganda,” She smiled a little when he bristled at that word. “So, convince me. How is it any better than just not joining a coven?”

The Golden Guard huffed angrily, sitting down again to write. At first, his movements were fast, jerky with agitation. Then, slowly, his expression fell into something softer, almost sad. He kept the chalkboard close, rewriting his words a few times. Luz didn’t lean over to try and watch this time. She just waited for him to finish. When he did, he handed the whole chalkboard over to her, looking away.

You were right before. I'm a powerless witch. A lot of my ancestors were. I never thought I'd have a future in a world like this. But then, Belos found me and gave me a staff with artificial magic. He said the Titan had big plans for me.

Big plans, huh? As Luz handed the chalkboard back, she found herself thinking about standing in front of all those palismen, with no idea what she wanted. “Well… at least you have your future figured out.”

He didn’t meet her eyes as he slowly wrote At least you can figure out your own.

He probably didn’t mean for her to see that; he went to wipe it away immediately. But Luz did see. And she saw the look on his face too. Before she could respond, little rascal reappeared. He’d been hopping around, getting up to who knows what. Evidently, he’d snuck up on their conversation. Before the Golden Guard could wipe the words away, he chirped, hopping up onto the chalkboard. The Golden Guard gasped, tossing the board away and scrambling back. Little rascal tried to hop after him, but he waved the palismen away.

Luz couldn’t help but smile, “Aw, c’mon. He’s just being friendly.”

He scowled, tapping three fingers on his chin. What did that mean again? Oh, right. Luz snorted.

“Does he really look dangerous to you?” she asked, gesturing down to his cute little face.

The Golden Guard pressed his lips together, unconvinced. Before Luz could argue the point any further, he stood up again. He made his way to the edge of the roof, giving little rascal a wide berth. Then he pointed from Luz to the chalk to the wall. With that, he jumped off the roof.

——

Getting the sleeping nettles was simple enough. It was protocol for every precinct to have some on hand for use in handling unruly detainees. Luckily, it seemed Latissa’s precinct had just gotten a shipment of potion ingredients, so there was a whole box of them right outside. Unluckily, Kikimora was hanging around outside the precinct, talking with some of the captains and tending to her hand dragon.

It was a slow-going process, but Hunter managed to sneak his way over to the crates without being noticed. Several of the crates had already been opened so their contents could be inspected, one of which contained a pile of potted plants, including sleeping nettles. Quietly, Hunter retrieved one of the plants, setting it in a small cloth sack. He peeked over the crates to check if the coast was clear. Kikimora was facing away, but she turned when an approaching guard captain called her name.

“Everything is ready for your departure, ma’am,” The captain said, gesturing to the now saddled hand dragon.

Kikimora nodded, clearly smiling beneath her collar. “Good, good. I’ll be taking off shortly then.”

That wasn’t good. Hunter needed to get back to the human. Now. He slung the sack over his shoulder, sprinting back towards the alley. There wasn’t time to be cautious on the return trip, but no one tried to stop him, so he must not have been seen. He glanced back just as he reached the alleyway to see the hand dragon spreading its wings, palismen nest clutched in its tail hand. They were going to miss their chance.

Once he reached the building, Hunter didn’t slow for a second, flinging himself onto the wall and scrambling up as fast as he could. Before he even reached the top, he flung the sack up onto the roof, praying the human was ready. Activate the spell, activate the spell, just do it now!

Pulling himself up over the lip, he saw that the human was still drawing the glyphs, totally none the wiser. He wanted to scream. Only when the bird palismen started chirping frantically did she notice his return.

“Oh, you’re back.”

Hunter snatched up the sleeping nettles, pointing frantically at the sky as he ran over to her. The hand dragon flew overhead then, slowly rising above the city. They were getting away. The human’s eyes grew wide, and she spun back towards the wall.

“I-I’m not done, I still need to-”

From what Hunter remembered of what she’d drawn in the dirt, the glyphs were only half done. Still, the human began scrambling to finish, jumping to reach the higher parts of the massive symbol. Hunter looked up at the sky just as the hand dragon disappeared into the clouds. Too late. They were too late. His heart sank.

“Just- Just- I need-”

Carefully, he grabbed the human’s arm. When she tried to tug away, he pointed at the now-empty sky. He expected her to deflate in defeat, but she just got more panicky. She dropped the chalk and started to pace.

“Okay, okay, we can still- if we just-” She stopped, turning to look at Hunter with determination. “We’re just gonna have to take her head on.”

Yeah, that was not gonna happen. Regardless of the fact that she had tried to murder him, Hunter couldn’t just attack Kikimora outright. No matter the reason, it would make him look like a traitor. He bent down, picking up the chalkboard to explain that to the human. Then, he paused. Maybe their plan wasn’t a total wash.

He made eye contact with the human again, pointing at the half-drawn glyphs on the wall and then at his chalkboard. We can draw it on here.

She frowned. “It won’t make nearly as much smoke. We’ll have to get in pretty close for it to be effective. She might see us or we might startle the dragon-”

Hunter raised a hand to stop her. They didn’t have time to argue or figure something else out. He held out the chalkboard for her to take. She seemed to understand, the panic on her face slipping back into resolve. They were just going to have to make this work. She took the chalkboard from him. But instead of starting to draw, she looked from him to the staff in her hand. Then she offered it to him.

Hunter’s eyes widened. He had been expecting her to keep it until she got the palismen back. Was this some kind of underhanded play he didn’t understand? Or did she seriously trust him? Something unpleasant sank into his stomach as he accepted his staff back. If she did trust him, then she was a fool.

Hunter was a strong flyer, so it didn’t take long for them to catch sight of Kikimora again. As they approached, he made sure to stay low and in her blind spot. This was going to be a delicate endeavor. If she got a good look at him, Hunter was sure Kikimora would recognize him. They had covered their faces with cloths, but that had more to do with not inhaling the smoke. Even if he didn’t have his very recognizable staff, she had seen his face before, and she wasn’t stupid. So, they needed to be as swift but cautious as possible. As they drew near, he figured one way of doing just that.

Behind him, the human was holding the chalkboard carefully so the precisely placed sleeping nettle blossoms didn’t blow away. Hunter turned to look back at her, tapping his opposite shoulder with a fist. He hoped, given the context, that she would understand exactly what he meant by that. Hold on. Turning back around, he gripped his staff. With a small jerk forward and a flash of red light, they teleported directly beneath the beast.

The human made a noise of surprise, and the weight on the staff shifted in a way that told Hunter she’d nearly fallen off. She recovered quickly though. Above them, the hand dragon grunted in confusion, no doubt feeling the air displacement of their sudden appearance.

“Duck down!” The human hissed.

Hunter leaned forward just as she slapped her hand on the chalkboard and tossed it over his head. It whizzed through the air, exploding into a plume of smoke inches from the dragon’s snout. The actual cloud wasn’t very large or dense, but Hunter still dipped them down to avoid it. The hand dragon groaned dazedly, and from somewhere on its back, Kikimora burst into a fit of coughing. Bullseye. Hunter and the human exchanged relieved looks. She gestured for him to start descending, pulling a small scrap of paper from her pocket. With a tap, the paper crumpled into a ball of light.

As they descended through the clouds, Hunter could hear the unsteady beats of the dragon’s wings following them. No doubt it was following the light, its rider too disoriented to stop it. Only a few seconds after they landed, the beast crashed into the ground behind them. Thankfully, it looked like it had managed to hold onto the palismen nest. The human hopped off Hunter’s staff, pulling her mask down.

“The palismen!” She said, relief clear in her voice.

Before she could run towards the nest, a small circle of light caught Hunter’s eye, and he grabbed her arm. He just barely pulled her out of the way of a streak of magic. They both turned to see Kikimora struggling to pull herself off the ground. Evidently, the sleeping nettles hadn’t quite kicked in yet. Or maybe she hadn’t gotten a large enough dose. Either way, she was alert enough to draw another spell circle.

“Stand down, thieves!”

Keeping a hold of the human, Hunter teleported them out of the way of the second blast. When they reappeared, she staggered but had the good sense to pull her mask back up. Hunter gripped his staff with both hands. This was about to get messy. Hopefully, the human was more formidable than she appeared. He pointed with two fingers to the left, and she nodded.

They split, Hunter charging straight at Kikimora and the human taking off to the left. Kikimora’s head snapped between the two of them as she struggled to remain standing. But she correctly identified Hunter as the more immediate threat, firing wildly in his direction. He teleported rapidly in a zigzag pattern, getting closer to her. But he overestimated how inebriated she was, and one of the shots caught him in the shoulder. He staggered for just a moment, barely regaining his balance in time to dodge a shot to the face.

“This is treason against a Coven official!” Kikimora growled, firing several more spells.  “I will have your head.”

Hunter spun his staff, blocking her attacks. He was about to teleport again when the ground rumbled. A wall of vines exploded from the dirt just behind Kikimora, rising up to grab her. She cried out in anger, trying and failing to stumble away. But just before they could fully encase her, she blasted a hole in the plants and tumbled out. She turned to see the human standing over a glyph drawn in the dirt.

“You dirty little-” She drew a spell circle as the human started to scramble out of the way.

In two quick blips, Hunter was behind Kikimora. Swinging his staff in a wide arch, he sent her flying. She crashed to the ground not far from the human. Instead of starting to draw another glyph or getting out of the way, the human bent down to pick something up. This, of course, gave Kikimora the opening to sit up and draw a spell circle. It probably would’ve hit her if the bird palismen hadn’t dove off her shoulder to smack Kikimora in the face with its wings.

Hunter reached them just as Kikimora was batting the palismen away. He flipped over her, spinning around to fire a spell of his own. She managed to cast one at the exact same moment, and they were both thrown back by the force of the spells colliding. Hunter fell into the human who managed to keep him upright. Kikimora tumbled several feet away, but it seemed she just refused to stay down. If anything, she seemed to be getting more alert. Hunter could only hope that her vision wasn’t clear enough to recognize him.

“You’re going to regret this,” she spat.

The human gripped Hunter’s shoulder. “Give me thirty seconds and then see if you can get her back over here.”

He nodded. She bent down to start drawing in the dirt as he teleported away. Kikimora was apparently back to focusing on him because, as soon as he rematerialized, a spell was there to meet him. It grazed his arm, briefly setting his sleeve on fire before he frantically patted it out. She was catching onto his pattern, so it was time to switch things up.

Pivoting his feet in a way to suggest he was about to blip again, Hunter gripped his staff. She took the bait, beginning to aim a spell where she anticipated him reappearing. Instead, he swung his staff down, casting a spell into the dirt. He yanked his staff upwards, and a wave of dirt rippled up and swept over to Kikimora. It knocked her back, and her spell misfired into the sky. Hunter spun, directing the wave of dirt to throw her to the side. He might’ve kept it up, but she shot another ball of fire at him that he had to drop his spell to deflect.

Glancing at the human, he saw her pulling a small pile of pedals from her pocket. They made eye contact, and she nodded. Hunter teleported forward, getting as much into Kikimora’s space as he could. She stumbled back, firing wildly at him. It was a little difficult to block the deluge of spells, but he managed to hold his ground and slowly begin to drive her backwards. He got several more scorch marks in the time it took to maneuver her into position.

“Gotcha!” The human cried, slamming her hand onto the glyph she’d drawn.

As soon as she had, Hunter blipped over to her and teleported them both away. A massive cloud of smoke exploded, completely engulfing Kikimora. She screamed in frustration, still firing her spells erratically. They stayed clear, watching the smoke slowly dissipate. As it faded, they could see Kikimora standing in the center, raising a shaky hand towards them. Hunter raised his staff, preparing to go back in. But that wasn’t necessary.

Finally, Kikimora collapsed, succumbing to the sleeping nettles. Hunter twirled his staff, planting it in the ground so he could lean against it. Panting, he looked over at the human. She yanked her mask down, also gasping for breath, and grinned at him in relief. They’d done it. Hunter probably also should have been relieved, but he knew this wasn’t really over. He watched as she scrambled over to the palismen nest, dreading what he knew needed to come next.

——

Luz tugged the door to the little hut open. Thankfully, all of the palismen were inside and unharmed, blinking up at her in confusion. The little rascally cardinal palismen hopped off her shoulder and rejoined his friends.

“Hello, babies,” she cooed. “Aw, you guys must be so cold and scared. Here.” She pulled off her cloak, wrapping it around them. “Make sure you share. Now, stay in here, okay? We'll get you home safe and-”

The buzz of magic cut her off, a red glow falling over the nest. Luz tensed, looking over her shoulder to see the Golden Guard pointing his staff at her. Oh. Right. She really hadn’t thought this through. She stood, turning around to face him. There was no way she could fight him. Not with magic anyway. But maybe…

“So, you're really gonna do this?” she started, matching the intensity in his gaze with her own. “You're just gonna hand all these innocent little guys over to Belos? I know what he does with them.” He bristled, but she continued. “I thought you might've been a good guy. But I guess that was just wishful thinking-”

The words caught in her throat when he yanked his mask down. The look on his face gave her pause. He was still breathing heavily, eyes hard. But there was a twist to his mouth that suggested something more. Regret. Fear. She wasn’t sure. But then one of his hands released his staff. He balled it into a fist and placed it on his chest. Slowly, he rubbed it in a circle. I’m sorry.

Luz’s mouth fell open. He was apologizing? Was he going to let them go? Hope rose in her chest. But there was still a coldness in his gaze, a rigid determination, and he hadn’t lowered his staff. Instead, he held out his hand palm up, then drew it back in and lifted one finger. It only took her a moment to understand what that meant. Just give me one of them.

Recoiling, Luz gasped. No. No way. She was not going to choose one of them to hand over to Belos. He probably thought he was being generous, but the thought repulsed her. Planting her feet, Luz intended to tell him exactly that. Before she could, a little chirp sounded behind her. She turned to see the cardinal had hopped his way out of the nest. He looked between the two of them, fluttering his wings a bit. Luz waved a hand at him, trying to get him to go back in. But he shook his head—actually shook his head—and chirped again. Then he spread his wings and flew between her legs, heading right for the Golden Guard.

“No!” She tried to go after him. “Little rascal, don’t-”

A warning shot hit the ground right in front of her and she stumbled back. The Golden Guard watched her intensely, not breaking eye contact until the little cardinal had landed at his feet. Luz wanted to scream. What was the little guy doing? Was he sacrificing himself for the rest of them? Then the Golden Guard bent down to pick him up and, in a flicker of light, the palismen transformed into a staff in his hands. It… it looked just like what had happened at school but… that couldn’t be right, could it? Because if the cardinal had chosen him as his witch, then that would mean that the Golden Guard had gotten a palismen before her. That was impossible, right? He was trying to kill the palismen for heaven’s sake!

Strangely, the Golden Guard seemed uncomfortable with the transformation as well. He held the new staff stiffly, like he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Luz clenched her fists. Maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn’t all bad. Maybe he could be reasoned with.

“Listen, you don’t have to do this,” she said softly. His gaze snapped back to meet hers. “I know you feel cornered, but there’s always room to make the right decision. For some reason, that little guy trusts you. So, I'm gonna trust you too. Don't give him to Belos. He doesn't deserve it.”

His expression grew pained, and he looked away from her, grip tightening on the staff. Then he swept one finger across his lips. You don't know what you're talking about.

With that, he turned to leave.

Luz's stomach flipped, and she couldn't help stepping forward "Wait- C'mon- Golden Guard, I-"

He stopped so abruptly it startled her out of whatever plea she'd been trying to form. When he looked back at her, his expression was some mix of annoyed, determined, and ashamed. He laid a hand on his chest, lips moving slowly to form a soundless word. Luz gasped softly, eyebrows shooting up. His name. He was trying to tell her his name. She was just about to ask him to repeat it, to go slower because she hadn't quite made it out, when he lifted up his staff and hopped on. With that, he was gone.

Luz stood alone in the now quiet night. With a sigh, she looked back at the other palismen who were curiously poking their heads out the nest door, “Well… I don’t suppose any of you can read lips?”