Chapter Text
The Emperor's castle was strange, to say the least, to be standing in such a place after it had been reduced mostly to a pile of rubble.
Yet that is the predicament both Luz and Hunter had found themselves in.
Hunter could hardly compare its current state to the place he grew up in, yet his chest constricted uncomfortably anyways upon being there again.
They had returned to the site in order to collect a few of Hunter’s old belongings, now that it had been safe to do so.
Hunter braced himself before stepping foot in the rubble.
The castle ruins reeked of dust and rot, the stench hitting the pair harshly though they pushed onwards regardless.
It took them a while to locate Hunter’s old bedroom in the rubble, but they had found it eventually.
Hunter had only a few things to grab, most of the stuff from his old room only held bad memories.
The first thing he tenderly placed into the cardboard box he had brought with him was his old plush toy, Sprig, which he dislodged from under a fallen piece of stone debris and promptly dusted off.
He had always had to hide Sprig, for fear of his ‘uncle’ taking him if discovered.
The emperor had always told Hunter he had no use for such silly childhood comforts, that he was far too mature to need such childish things as toys.
Hunter did not want to disappoint his uncle with his immaturity, and thus, Sprig stayed hidden.
Hunter then kneeled down to where he lifted a loose floorboard in which there was a bag of ration bars along with some books on wild magic he stole from the archive of banned books in the castle with the hope of using their knowledge to cure his uncle's curse.
Obviously that endeavour had not been a successful one.
Nonetheless, he placed the books in the box and ignored the ration bars, thankful to never have to eat another one of those ever again.
The next thing Hunter put into the box was his scroll, given to him by Darius and now cracked on the screen but still functional. At least now, he could message his friends again.
Finally, he entered his closet and opened his sock drawer where amongst the coven’s standard-issue gray was a pop of red.
Red socks with crooked little eyes and wings stitched on by hands that had been shaking with secret joy and fear of being caught.
He had worked very hard sewing those socks himself and Flapjack had loved them.
Suddenly, Hunter remembered Flapjack sitting on his shoulder as he sewed the details on those socks and his hand absentmindedly raised to the crook in his neck and shoulder where his dear bird friend used to perch.
At the thought of Flapjack, a single quiet tear ran down Hunter’s cheek.
Ignoring the ache in his chest, he gingerly placed the socks into the box.
Luz had been waiting patiently for him to finish packing, standing far enough away to give him privacy but close enough in case he needed her.
He was grateful for that, more so than words could describe.
Stringbean coiled around Luz’s arm as she tapped away on her scroll.
As Hunter began approaching Luz to inform her that he got everything he needed, he caught a glimpse of a familiar piece of furniture among the rubble.
A grandly carved mahogany desk sat a few feet away from the ruins of Hunter’s old room, knocked over with its drawers flung open.
Hunter recognized that desk, it had belonged to the emperor himself and remained in his study.
Hunter was never allowed inside his uncle’s study, and the opportunity now presenting itself to him was too tempting to ignore.
So, Hunter slunk away from Luz’s direction and instead headed towards the rubble of his uncle’s private office.
Hunter picked his way through the wreckage, boots crunching softly over shattered glass and plaster. Paperwork littered the floor around the desk.
Upon peering in the flung open drawers, Hunter caught sight of something strange.
A journal, labelled ‘Iteration: Hunter XVI’.
Hunter stared at the cover for longer than he intended. His fingers tightened reflexively around the edge of the box.
He didn’t open the journal.
Carefully, deliberately, he slid it beneath the other items, hiding it under Sprig and the books as if that might make it disappear.
His gut twisted.
Whatever that was, it wasn’t meant for him. Or maybe it was too meant for him.
“Hunter?” Luz called.
He startled at her voice, jumping in surprise.
“Yeah,” he replied quickly, forcing his voice steady as he turned back toward her. “I- I got everything.”
Luz studied him for half a second longer than necessary, her eyes flicking to the box and back to his face. But she didn’t press. She just nodded and held out her hand.
“Ready to head home?”
Hunter nodded.
Stringbean unfurled from Luz’s arm with a soft trill, shifting into her staff form as Luz hopped on easily.
Hunter climbed on behind her, one arm braced around the box, the other settling lightly at her waist.
The castle shrank below, its broken towers and collapsed wings looking smaller, less powerful, from above. Wind rushed past his ears, carrying away the dust and rot that had clung to him since they arrived.
Hunter adjusted his grip, pressing the box closer to his chest. Inside it, the journal felt heavier than everything else combined.
They flew in silence.
Hunter watched the Isles roll past beneath them, the ribs of the Titan cutting through the landscape, greenery reclaiming scorched earth, signs of rebuilding everywhere he looked. Life continuing. Healing.
His chest felt tight anyway.
“You okay back there?” Luz asked softly, not turning around.
Hunter hesitated.
“Yeah,” he said, after a moment. “Just… tired.”
Luz hummed in acknowledgment, reaching back to squeeze his wrist briefly. It was grounding. Real.
The Owl House came into view not long after, crooked and familiar against the trees. Warm light glowed from the windows, smoke curling lazily from the chimney.
Home.