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“Again.”
Writhing limbs. Arms become hatchets. Spikes grow from shoulders. They cut through flesh while blue eyes watch without expression.
“NO!” Hunter shouted, “I’m not gonna –”
“Oh come now,” Graye’s boot came down hard onto his small chest, heel first, “you’re what? Nine? Ten years old,” he dragged his foot across Hunter’s body as if he was crushing a bug.
“You may wear a scout’s uniform,” his lips drew into a sneer, “but I know the truth of you.”
The way Graye had said those words unraveled something in Hunter’s belly. What truth did Adrian know that Hunter didn’t know about himself? It didn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter at all!
Hunter tried to remind himself of that. The only thing that mattered was the mission. He was in charge of several other scouts in training, and his job was to help them move on to the next rank.
This challenge required that each team keep the locations of their fellow scouts a secret. And as the leader, Hunter was in the unique position to know where each one of them were hidden on this mountain.
If the others were found by a member of an opposing team, they’d lose a chance at a promotion for a year.
“I’m waiting,” Graye sang.
He flicked his tail across Hunter’s face and once more stomped down – this time with far more force than the Illusionist’s thin frame implied he could manage.
“Oops! I got impatient,” he sniffed. He pressed the toe of his boot deep into place where he’d kicked the hardest and Hunter’s nerves lit up both hot and cold at once.
They weren’t permitted to use magic during this test.
Hunter wondered if Graye was cheating with his strength as well. Perhaps he had some sort of construction glyph that made his strikes land harder?
Not that it mattered. It was clear that Graye had already planned this out well before the mission began. Hunter was certain of it.
Still, he couldn’t think too far into his rival’s disregard for the rules though, because when the last strike came down, he’d heard a crack in his bones and his lungs constricted prompting him to cough out blood all over the untouched white snow.
“Stop playing at scout leader, boy.” he chuckled, “you barely fit your uniform, let alone your role.”
“I –I am a real scout leader–” Hunter managed.
“Of course you are, pet,” Graye smirked, “now, shall we begin again?”
“No no no no no, please don’t,” Hunter the child inside begged.
Hunter the scout remained silent.
Graye’s smile spread. He lifted his hand and used the little looking glass’s reflection from the snow and the sun to burn a small space on Hunter’s forehead as if Graye himself was a child and Hunter was an insect on the streets.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he hissed.
The razor thin ethereal blade of Graye’s Magic Amplifier seemed to slice through the back of Hunter’s eye sockets, tearing apart the threads that connected to the tissue. The inside of his mind throbbed and the pain splintered out through his ears which rang out in a hollow voice.
“Oh dear, Hunter,” Belos’ gauntlet closed around Hunter’s cheeks, “it appears I have lost control.”
His uncle held his small face with a sense of ownership. It filled Hunter with an odd sense of pride that felt a little bit wrong. He pushed that unevenness way down in his belly while the Emperor thumbed away the blood that ran down his face.
“That must have been very scary for you."
"I-I'm okay. Thank you, Uncle Belos."
"I have taken you in with the utmost faith that you will not relay anything that you see in this Throne Room. I can trust you, no?”
“Yes, Uncle Belos,” Hunter wiped his nose, “I know you didn’t mean to –”
“Interesting,” Graye yawned, “how you just take it in good faith when it is coming from him.”
“He’s my family! He took me in. I’d be nothing if not for him,” the insistent assurances gathered in Hunter the child’s throat and melted into a pool of shame in his belly.
“I serve the Emperor directly,” Hunter the scout growled, “you’d best remember there’s nothing you can do to me that will make me –”
A new blade burned its way through his memories.
“Do you know what discipline is, Hunter?” Belos was fully in his witch form now. He wore his robe, but his mask sat on the arm of this throne. And though he was smiling, his face held no expression at all.
Hunter’s voice went stiff.
His uncle was waiting for a response, but not patiently in the least. The wrinkles around the Emperor’s mouth pulled a bit betraying his calm facade.
“Sir,” Hunter’s throat leaped, “D-discipline! It’s – w-when …”
“A clear answer, Hunter,” Belos scolded, “none of your stuttering.”
He could feel his body lurch. He couldn’t throw up. He couldn’t shed a tear. He couldn’t show any weakness.
“Discipline. I-it’s the practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behavior, with punishment or other undesired consequences for those failing to comply.”
“Have I not taught you discipline, Hunter?” Belos asked mildly, “have I not trained you properly to obey the rules?”
“Y-you have sir –”
“Then why is it that Kikimora found you in the restricted section of the library reading a book on mindscapes?”
“I - I thought …” Hunter closed his eyes, "I thought maybe it could help you --"
“Clearly, you don’t think things through. If you think at all,” Belos sighed. His voice was soft, "Hunter, I worry for you. You are drawn to the very thing that left you an orphan."
"I'm sorry I made you worry, uncle," he bowed his head.
"So now the question remains," Belos mused, "how many lashes do you think you have earned from this indiscretion, hmmmm? It is after all, your second time this month being caught reading a book on Wild Magic.”
Hunter ducked his head, “I suppose double what I received the first time,” he whispered.
“You will count them out then,” Belos ordered.
“Yes sir –”
Graye’s mocking laughter broke the memory in half.
“Boy he’s got you at his feet like a little dog, hasn’t he?” he cooed, “So. Are you ready to betray your team?”
Hunter shut his eyes tight, bracing for the next attack. “No,” he coughed.
“I see,” Graye chuckled, “oh … let’s see what else I can unravel from that sad little mind of yours."
His younger voice droned tonelessly in his mind. Hunter couldn’t just hear himself and Belos as if he was physically back in the memory. He could feel every strike across his thin back as sharp as it had been back then.
“One …”
Thwack.
“Two…”
Thwack…
“I – I’m, s-”
“Ahpupup. Now we start over.”
“How about now?” Graye tapped him “are you ready to be a traitor?”
“No…” Hunter mumbled.
“Now we start over,” Graye yawned.
“Ah pupup. Now we start over.” Belos scolded.
“O-one…”
Thwack!
“…. t-two…”
Thwack!
“ I do this because I care. Because I know you can do better.”
“...th-three..”
Thwack!
“You want to do better for me, don’t you Hunter?”
“Y-essir…”
“And we’ve lost count. We start over. Yes?”
“...one…”
“Pathetic.”
Adrian’s voice jolted Hunter out of his own mind. He was somewhere between the memory and the present. Graye was holding the glass and examining the memory with great interest as Hunter felt his skin split in the form of a familiar punishment.
“I don’t want to see this.” He told himself, “I don’t want him to see this! I don’t …”
“N-n-nine..” His younger voice echoed in his ears.
"T-en.." he'd pressed forward anyway.
Hunter focused on the cold air. He wriggled his way out from under Graye’s foot and spun around to sweep the man out from under. Success! He’d landed on his back and Hunter managed to pull himself up – right before Graye reclaimed his artifact.
His smile became venomous.
“Oh you’re going to pay ROYALLY for that one, half a witch brat!” he laughed.
Hunter grabbed for his blade, but Adrian Graye was already equipped. He raised the looking glass and Hunter’s eyes filled with blue.
Belos stood over Hunter’s bent and bloodied body. In his hand he held a thin reed switch.
“BOR-ING!” Graye laughed, “Let’s get to some real juicy stuff.”
Magic sliced behind Hunter’s eyes again.
“What’s wrong, nephew,” Belos sounded so sad, “do you not trust me?”
Hunter waited frozen while Belos' closed his hands around his small neck and pressed on his throat as the world went dark. His uncle smiled the whole time.
“AGAIN!”
Hunter’s body hovered over the floor of the throne room. Belos’s eyes blazed with fury while Hunter’s limbs turned to stone.
“Shall I keep going, or are you going to hold your tongue next time?”
“AGAIN!”
Hunter sobbed into the soft head of a stuffed pink frog. His ear was still bandaged from the deep cut he’d endured just an hour ago. He remembered the look on the healing witch's face as Belos had petrified her. There was a knock at the door. The strange smell of his Uncle’s Magic filled the room.
He stuffed Spring far under his covers and sat on top of the lump. His small body trembled.
“C-come in,” he whispered.
“AGAIN!”
“You show sympathy for this creature? It is made of wild magic! Wild magic is the reason our family is gone.”
“Do you not trust me?”
Thwack. The switch came down on his bare back between his shoulders.
“I - I’m sorry!”
Emotionless blue eyes.
“Do you not trust me?”
“I trust you, u-uncle -”
“STOP STUTTERING!”
Thwack! The switch came down on the backs of his legs.
"Do you not trust me?"
"I trust you, uncle."
"I have given you a home. A purpose."
Thwack.
"...el-e-ven..."
"I have given you access to a staff with my own magic."
Thwack.
"...twelve..."
"Do you not think I care for you? My only living relative?
"I know you do, uncle. I love you too."
"Then why do you constantly question me?"
Thwack! The switch came down on the backs of his knees.
Belos smiled the whole time.
“NO! Y-YOU’RE NOT S’PPOSED TO USE MAGIC!” Hunter shouted in the present, “I’LL TELL EVERYONE YOU CHEATED!
“And I will tell everyone that you’re afraid of him.”
The blood rushed from Hunter's face to his belly, “I-I’m not," he whispered. Shame pooled in his chest, "I'm not afraid of the Emp-"
“AGAIN! AGAIN!” Graye clapped the mirror in his hands.
Hunter’s lungs pushed out air as they turned half to stone. His heart beat so fast he could hear it in his ears.
“I never expected you to disappoint me on this mission.” Belos sneered. “Was the Titan wrong about you? Perhaps his plans were to to use you to show me humility – you embarrass me so!”
“AGAIN!”
“Place your hands on the right arm of the throne. We will break you of that childish thumb sucking habit.”
“STOP!”
“STOP!”
“STOP!” Hunter could barely recognize his own voice. He’d felt like parts of himself had been peeled away like the skin on a goreange fruit.
“STOP! STOP!”
“Stop?” Graye hummed, “can you ask me nicely?”
Hunter glared, “please stop,” he spat out more blood.
“There’s a good little pet,” Graye tapped Hunter’s sore ribs with the toe of his boot, “so you’re ready to give them up then?”
“J-just me!” Hunter conceded, “I won't tell you where they are, b-but, if you capture me you’ll get extra points!”
“I’m not looking for a bargain,” Adrian sniffed, “you're not worth as much as you believe you are, and the longer we go, the looser your grip on their whereabouts will be.”
Hunter pulled his lips tight. He closed his eyes and braced for the next round. These memories were painful to live the first time. They were excruciating to relive with an audience. But if Hunter’s mission was a success? If he could manage to keep the locations of his team a secret and get all of them through to the next part of their promotion?
It would all be worth it.
It would all be worth it. The gratitude of his comrades. The applause from the scout masters.
The respect and praise from his uncle.
Hunter could do this. He could. He could have it all and more.
As long as he could endure this for another few hours until the sunrise.