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Hunter’s footsteps echoed through the castle halls as he ran nearly full-sprint with his cloak that was still much too big for him, billowing behind him. His boots were heavy and not yet broken in so his heels were covered in bandages from the blisters. He didn’t pay attention to the pain of his shoes as he clutched a tightly bound book to his chest, excitement fluttering in his chest.
His hair, which was just starting to grow out more, fell in front of his eyes and he momentarily thought to ask his uncle for a haircut later. The castle was mostly empty, a few guards made little notice to him as he ran by, and the cloak dragging behind him was enough of a symbol that he wasn’t a threat. He was practically dusting the floors with how his cloak hung on his skinny form.
Sunlight was spilling in through the windows, illuminating his path of childish glee as he hopped from sun spot to sun spot over the tile floors. A small giggle bubbled up from the back of his throat as he watched the stretches of light on his feet.
So caught up in looking at the ground, Hunter wasn’t paying attention to where he was going. He cried out in surprise as he ran head first into someone in the halls.
Stumbling back with a small whimper, Hunter rubbed his cheek, a long cut still bleeding from underneath the bandage. It stung and almost brought tears to his eyes from the sudden jolt of pain.
“Hunter.” Came a stern voice from above him, causing Hunter to instantly freeze. He clutched the book to his chest tighter as he looked up to see the face of his uncle staring down at him with a disapproving glare.
“S-Sorry Uncle—Lord Belos,” Hunter hung his head, a tremor causing his entire body to shake as he tried not to look too guilty. His ears drooped, pinning back against his skull as he waited for what Belos had to say.
His uncle regarded him for a long moment of silence before he eventually spoke, “what have I told you about running through the halls?”
“Not to do it,” Hunter hunched his shoulders up to his ears, making himself as small as possible.
“And you must pay attention to where you are going,” Belos knelt down, his cloak spreading across the floor as he pressed his knee against the floor. A slow hand reached up, clutching Hunter’s cheek and causing the boy to wince as pressure was applied to the cut on his face. Tears prickled in the corners of his eyes which he tried to blink away before Belos could spot them.
“Sorry Uncle,” Hunter repeated, his voice cracking. His heart hammered in his chest and he told himself not to cry. If he cried then Belos would get even madder because he wasn’t supposed to cry.
“You wouldn’t want to walk in on something inappropriately again, correct?” Belos’ expression softened slightly and he looked concerned for Hunter, “You don’t need another scar.”
Hunter bit down on his tongue, swallowing thickly, and nodded in agreement. Belos clicked his tongue, a heavy sigh expelling from his lips as he stood back to his full height. His shadow towered over the boy in front of him as he trembled and tried to hold back tears.
The sun spots on the ground seemed to disappear as a cloud covered their source and Hunter could feel the chill that surrounded their absence. He waited for his punishment, he had made a mistake, and he should have been paying attention to where he was going.
But the punishment never came. Instead, Belos’ entire presence seemed to shift upon sensing Hunter’s growing panic.
“What is it that you are reading?” Belos asked, a curious tone lilting his voice. And before Hunter could even show the book to his uncle, Belos snatched it from him with enough force to cause Hunter to flinch back. He clasped his hand over his mouth to stifle the yelp that tried to worm its way out of his throat.
Belos regarded the cover for a long few moments, his eyes tracing every nook and cranny of the title on the front. He pressed his lips into a thin line, making an indecipherable noise from the back of his throat. Then, his eyes drifted down to Hunter and the poor boy froze up again.
“Are you not a little old to be reading such childish stories?” Belos asked, his fingers digging into the leather cover of the book, “Fantasy tales like this are for much younger witches.”
“I…I…” Hunter stammered, the gap between his teeth whistling as he sucked in a nervous breath, “I like those stories…”
For a moment, Hunter thought that Belos was going to take the book away and tell him to read something else. He was too old to be reading these sorts of stories after all, but Belos stared at him for another few tense seconds before extending it back to Hunter.
“Read what you wish,” Belos said, watching as Hunter shakily took the book back, “but I trust you will make good choices of the ones you wish to read.”
Hunter nodded feverishly, curling his fingers around the edge of the book as he clutched it back to his chest. Belos exhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing as he studied Hunter carefully.
“I will be off to my study,” Belos finally said, “I trust you know not to interrupt.”
The cut on Hunter’s face stung as he could feel blood soak through the bandage, but he managed a nod and Belos seemed satisfied with that.
“Do not run through the halls, and pay attention to where you are walking,” Belos instructed, turning away from Hunter with one last disapproving look over his shoulder. The older man began walking away and Hunter stood there frozen for a long time.
He didn’t dare move until Belos was way out of sight and he could hear the sound of a door slamming. Then, Hunter resumed his trek through the halls, albeit much slower than before.
His cloak dragged behind him, kicking up the dust on the floors and dirtying the hem. His entire body was shaking and he feared that he was going to drop the book if he didn’t clutch it tightly to his chest. With his ears pinned back against his skull, Hunter slunk through the once more sun-lit halls.
He moved slowly, making an effort for his footsteps not to echo. This time, the coven guards gave him a little more than a half glance, but none of them said anything to him. None of them ever talked to Hunter. Only when he spoke to them did they give halfhearted answers.
Hunter didn’t like their masks very much, it scared him that he was unable to see their faces. What if they were secretly angry at him?
Slowly, Hunter approached a tall door in one of the far corners of the castle. He stopped his timid walk just in front of it, boots scuffing against the floor.
He knocked once, then twice, and a third time when no one answered right away. The smell of the leather cover of the book filled his nose as he held it up higher against his chest, stepping back away from the door.
“Oh, what is it now?” Came a tired voice from the other side of the door, the hinges squealing as it was pushed open, “oh, it’s just you.”
Darius stood in the open doorway, a purple sweater hanging from his shoulders as he looked down at Hunter. Hunter stared up at him with wide eyes, rocking back and forth on his heels where he stood.
“Good afternoon to you, Little Prince,” Darius stepped away from the door, pushing it open a few more inches to allow Hunter to slip in. Eagerly the boy bounded through the entrance, nearly tripping on the long hem of his cloak. He would grow into it soon, that’s what Belos told him.
“What brings you here today?” Darius shut the door behind him, a sigh spilling from his lips.
“I brought a book,” Hunter held up the mentioned book, a small smile spreading across his face as he looked at Darius with anticipation.
“Hm?” Darius raised an eyebrow.
“I want you to read it to me,” Hunter said, tilting his head to the side, one of his ears drooped. Darius sighed once more, moving to sit back down in his chair, crossing one of his legs over the other.
“How old are you?” Darius asked.
“Ten,” Hunter responded, furrowing his eyebrows and pursing his lips.
“Doesn’t that mean you should be old enough to read on your own?” There was a hint of playfulness in Darius’ voice, but Hunter frowned anyway.
“I like when you read,” Hunter pushed on, extending the book once more to the abomination witch, “you do funny voices.”
“Hm,” Darius exhaled a small chuckle and shook his head fondly, finally accepting the book, “alright, just for a little bit.”
However, once the book was taken away from Hunter’s face, Darius noticed the bandage. A small frown tugged on his lips as he tsked.
“Oh, Hunter, the bandage is bleeding through again.” Setting the book aside on the coffee table, Darius leaned forward to gesture Hunter closer. But Hunter stood in place, hunching back.
“I’m fine,” Hunter insisted with a small voice, curling his arms around himself.
“Let me change the bandage and then we can read,” Darius said, “we can’t have it bleeding through, that’s no way for it to heal.”
Hunter refused to get any closer to Darius, his shoulders shaking, “No,” he said firmly, chewing on his bottom lip.
There was genuine fear in Hunter’s expression, but even so, it was only enough for Darius to hesitate. If the cut got infected from a dirty bandage, who knew what complications that would cause. And if that happened, Darius was sure that Belos would be incredibly displeased.
“It hurts, I know, that’s why you have to get a clean bandage,” Darius knelt down so he was no longer sitting on the chair, making sure he was down at Hunter’s level, “if you don’t get a clean bandage it’ll hurt a lot worse.”
Hunter wrung his hands, holding himself in a way that made him seem a lot smaller than he was. And he was already small for his age.
“I don’t need a new bandage,” Hunter said in a shaking voice. Darius saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes which he frantically blinked away.
Darius chewed on the inside of his mouth, trying to think about how to approach this. Hunter was stubborn when it came to first aid, he had panic attacks when forced into the healing coven homeroom.
“I’ll let you have some of my secret stash of candy if you let me change the bandage,” Darius offered and Hunter’s eyes widened with sudden interest. Belos rarely let him have sweets, Darius knew that much. It was a tantalizing commodity for the boy.
“You promise?”
Darius nodded.
“Okay…” Hunter finally whispered, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
Darius smiled, ruffling his hair, “good boy.”
Hunter leaned into the touch, scrunching up his face for a moment before Darius pulled his hand away.
Reluctantly, Hunter sat down in one of the chairs near a square table in the middle of the room. The surface was covered in papers and books of which Hunter did his best to be subtle with his curious snooping. Darius just let him, knowing that the boy probably wouldn’t understand half the things he had laid out on the table.
Offering him a candy first so he hopefully wouldn’t startle as bad from the sudden pain, Darius gently peeled the blood-soaked bandage from his face. The tape stuck to his skin and peeled off with a sticky sound.
The cut on his cheek still looked bad and even a few days later bled through the bandages. Hunter whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as Darius dabbed a cloth to his face gently, cleaning the blood-stained skin around the wound and doing his best to disinfect the actual cut.
Silent tears rolled down the boy's cheeks and the lollipop that Darius had offered him was clenched tightly in his palm, forgotten about for the moment.
Darius worked quickly, pasting another bandage to cover the wound and taping it to his cheek so it would stay. And then within a few minutes, the entire ordeal was done.
“There, you’re all good to go,” Darius said, disposing of the soiled bandage and wiping off his hands, “Now where was that book you gave me.”
Hunter sniffled and wiped his eyes with a small hiccup. He curled in on himself, pulling his knees up to his chest.
Darius gave him a concerned look, grabbing the book from the coffee table where he had placed it. The book was old and slightly worn with some stains on the leather. It looked like Hunter had grabbed this from the very back of the library, or even the secret stash of books that Belos had.
Aesop’s fables .
The name was unfamiliar and yet Darius flipped it open to the front page. If Hunter wanted him to read it out loud, then he would entertain the boy for a few hours. It was better than him poking around the castle out of his boredom and getting in trouble when he finds something he’s not supposed to see.
As Darius began to read one of the first blocks of text that seemed like a story, Hunter slumped over the table he sat at, the stick of the lollipop hanging out of his mouth.
Out of the corner of his eye, Darius saw him reach towards something on the table, his fingers hooking around the edge of a small canister. A small chuckle bubbled out of Darius’ throat as he saw Hunter stick his fingers into a tin of abomination goop, scrunching up his face at the feeling and then sticking his hand into it once more.
Hunter seemed like he was trying to be sneaky about it, so Darius pretended not to notice as he focused on the book resting in his lap. Reading to Hunter a story about a group of frogs in search of a king and relishing in the strangeness of the story.