Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: No More Distractions, Part I

“You wanted to see me, uncle?”

“Yes,” Emperor Belos said, not turning around to face him yet, “I’ve been informed you have recently began recruiting more witches for the Emperor’s Coven,” he continued, not changing his tone either.

Hunter stood there, feeling his heart starting to beat faster. What did Darius say? That was months ago. The scroll he was given suddenly felt heavier in his pocket. He did his best to not show any reaction when Belos turned around.

“Well?” He said, eyes piercing through Hunter’s expression. “Where are they, then?”

“I-I didn’t think it was appropriate to take them against their will, Uncle.”

“And so you continue to play nice with them until they agree to serve?”

“Play nice?”

“You play nice with the witches that are friends with the Owl Lady who continues to use wild magic, against the law, without arresting her. What are your real intentions, with these witches and the human?”

Hunter’s fists tightened. “I agreed to be a part of their school’s flyer derby team so I participate in their team practices and their games against other schools. It’s a way to show young and promising witches that can have a place in the Emperor’s Coven.” His fists loosened their grip. “And, it’s fun,” he added, quietly.

“And with this witch?” Belos asked, waving his hand to flood the room with hundreds of different images of Hunter and…pictured with him, Willow Park.

Hunter’s eyes widened but he quickly shut them, trying to figure out a way to end this interrogation as soon as possible. “And what about her?” he demanded, a little more loudly than he thought he was going to.

“These pictures are not from your sports team practice or any games. Your mission is now terminated. She is merely a distraction to you.”

Hunter’s face flushed to a soft pink. “Am I not allowed to have friends outside of the Coven?”

“If she is not in the Coven, she is unworthy of your time.”

“You mean, your time,” Hunter broke.

A silence fell between them. Belos turned his back to him once again, and took a deep breath. “I am sorry I have to do this, but you are giving me no choice.”

Hunter’s eyes began to water and his face flushed closer to a red.

“Your next mission, Golden Guard, is to bring this witch, and her palisman, to me.”

“Her palisman?”

“Yes, of course her palisman, Hunter. It will be no different than your other missions.”

Hunter’s heart was pounding, thinking of his own palisman, up in his room.

“What will you do with Willow?”

“With what?”

“Willow! That’s her name, the witch you want me to bring to you. What are you planning to do with her?”

Belos faced his nephew again, this time, with a small, crooked grin, crawling up his face. “If you are going to continue to question my orders, Golden Guard, I will need to pass this mission to Kikimora as an assassination mission. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Uncle.”

“Good. You will bring her here by sundown tonight. If she is not here by sundown, I will be calling on Kikimora. You are now excused.”

--

Hunter put on his mask so he did not have to control his facial expression as he ran up one of the castle’s towers to the room where he slept. He swung the door open to find Flapjack still asleep, quite snug in the small blanket he wrapped him in, by his pillow. He let out a sigh of relief, closed the door, and threw off his mask, letting it clang onto the floor.

He picked up Flapjack, the palisman that for some reason, chose him, of all witches, and held him tightly to his chest. The little bird chirped questioningly, unsure as to why Hunter had tears streaming down his face.

“Oh, how silly of me,” he hiccupped, “I was thinking I was going to have to tell my one and only friend that she needs to run away, to never show her face again because if my uncle doesn’t kill her himself he’ll get Kikimora to do it for him, but,” he sniffed, “I forgot that you were my friend first.”

Flapjack chirped again, but this time, more reservedly.

“No, you’re right about that too,” Hunter said, his breath beginning to slow down a bit. “If my uncle finds out about you, I won’t have any friends left.”

He wiped his face.

“You-,” he started, “You’ll need to go with Willow,” he said in a softer tone.

This time Flapjack fluttered out of his arms to face him while he chirped loudly. Hunter, startled, almost tripped by taking a step back. “Okay, okay! I know I am powerless without you but uncle is relentless when it comes to palismen, all right? You don’t want to know what happens to them,” he said, as he climbed up to the window sill to sit. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Flapjack settled in his arms again and muttered a small tweet.

Hunter raised his eyebrows in bemusement. “I didn’t consider that,” he laughed. “How are you always smarter than me?”

Flapjack smiled with a smidge of smugness. Willow would never let Hunter give him to her, not when he was powerless without him. Of course, she would never agree to run away, but Hunter needs to find that out for himself.

“Okay,” Hunter settled, “it’s time to change the Captain’s course.”

 No More Distractions, Part II

Flying as quickly as possible to Willow’s house, he began to think about all of the times had done so before in the past couple of months. It was only very recently he had begun to spend time with the Captain of Hexside’s first flyer derby team outside of their practice time. Reluctant most times the team had invited him to “hang out” with their human friend Luz, and the other witch he had a few run-ins with before, it did feel safer somehow, to spend time with only Willow, even though she was still quite clearly an incredibly powerful witch for her age. She still scared him a little bit, to be honest, with the growth of her power. There was something different about her though, from the others. She was tenacious like any of the rest… but she also had a kind tenderness that Hunter had never encountered in any witch he had ever met. Many witches on the Boiling Isles were… deceivingly nice, but they were never kind, per say. He has met patient witches… but not with the kind of patience Willow had. She sparked his curiosity. Despite the rest of her friends being incredibly suspicious of him (rightfully so, to be honest), her suspiciousness was never laced with malice. It was as if she was concerned with his well-being over his duties as the Golden Guard. Is that why his uncle considers her “a distraction”? He knows that there is nothing more important than preparing for the Day of Unity, but if the Day of Unity is to make the Boiling Isles a better place… wouldn’t his friendship with any witch on the Boiling Isles be something beneficial? Yes, he has spent more time with her, occasionally ditching his scheduled patrol time to learn some of her wild plant magic skills, but that is for the greater good, isn’t it? He’s tried to tell his uncle many times his opinion about wild magic, that perhaps they could use it for good instead of abolishing it for eternity. It can be dangerous but from what Willow has shown him, and from what he’s seen from Luz, the human, and Eda the Owl Lady… it can also bring balance to nature in the demon realm. It seems like destroying wild magic for good would destroy that balance. He thought that if he had learned enough from Willow that he would be able to prove to his uncle that he was right. Months of trying proved him wrong.

-Flashback-

“Do you think you could stick around this time, Caleb?” Willow asked Hunter, insisting on using his pseudonym.

“Everyone else has already left, why would you want me to stay, Captain?”

“Well, that’s exactly the reason, really. I don’t think I have the energy to hang out with everyone after today’s practice but…” she trailed off with a little less confidence.

Hunter waited for her to finish her sentence, resting his hands on his palisman staff.

Willow looked up and made eye contact with him as she completed her thought, “but I don’t feel like being alone with my thoughts right now.”

Hunter gave her a perplexed look without any reply. He also didn’t move from where he was standing. He just watched Willow pack up her things before she stood beside him.

“I don’t expect you to be much help, really, and the whole point of not being around Gus and everyone else was for some peace and quiet, but you know, I didn’t exactly expect you to be so stoic,” she said with a smirk, looking up at him, a little bit inside his personal space. He reacted by standing up a bit straighter, letting go of his staff so Flapjack could rest on his shoulder.

“I was waiting to hear your thoughts so that you wouldn’t be left alone with them. Isn’t that what you meant?”

“Weren’t you going to ask what they were?”

Flapjack chirped near Hunter’s ear. “That’s exactly what I was going to say!” he laughed.

“What?” Willow asked, now with her hand on her hip.

“Can you not understand him?”

“No, I can’t, which I guess is a bit odd… but palismen can restrict who can understand their speech. It’s a part of their wild magic quality.”

“Why don’t you let Willow understand you?”

Flapjack responded, and a bit of a lengthier sentence than his usual tweets. “Oh.”

“Well?” Willow asked.

“He said it’s about his last holder… he um, was betrayed by his friend. He doesn’t trust most witches anymore.”

“Interesting that Flapjack chose you then, huh?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you have a history of betrayals?”

“I-I—you know, we kind of skipped over your whole I don’t want to be alone in my thoughts thing, didn’t we? Did you want to share them or not?”

“Relax, Caleb, I’m only teasing. A little bit,” she laughed. “You’ve proven your loyalty to the Emerald Entrails well enough now,” she said, smiling at Flapjack. Hunter’s face suddenly got hot, but she turned ahead and began walking home. “Come on, I will tell you what’s on my mind on my way home. If you have the time, that is.”

“You’re going to walk?”

“I don’t live that far!”

--

-Present-

Hunter smiled at this memory. There really wasn’t too much on Willow’s mind at the time, other than her being worried about some class test that didn’t really matter. They ended up talking about palismen wild magic and other things. After that day, Hunter would walk Willow home after almost every practice. Occasionally the others would come along as well, but ordinarily it ended up being only them. He started opening up to her, almost reluctantly but not quite, about what life was like in the Emperor’s Coven. He tried to share positive stories when he could but he gradually began to realize that most of his memories with his uncle and living in that castle were… less than pleasant. He didn’t like seeing Willow looking upset after what he thought was a good story but in reality apparently it was “traumatizing”. Later though, whether Willow would be upset by a story or not, it really didn’t matter. It became clear to him that honesty to her was more important niceties, which he preferred as well anyway. Too many at the castle were two-faced, him included. Playing with the Emerald Entrails and getting to know Willow, and eventually the others a bit, allowed him to get to know himself.

But this was it. He could see Willow’s house just ahead, and she had just gotten home from Hexside. Hunter took a deep breath. Belos wanted them by sundown. He had a couple of hours to convince her to run. He could do that, right?

No More Distractions, Part III

“Taptaptaptaptap!” the window rattled.

Willow slowly walked closer to her window to peer out at what was making the noise. Hunter’s face came out of nowhere, and she fell backward.

“Did you accidentally swap schedules with someone else?” she asked jokingly after she got up to open the window, “You know we don’t have practice today, right?”

“Yes, I know that,” Hunter said in a lower tone, ignoring her joke entirely. As soon as she opened the window completely, he climbed through. Flapjack fluttered over to Clover for company but gave him a knowing look.

“What’s… going on, exactly?” Willow asked, seeing the serious look on Hunter’s face.

He stood there, not knowing where to begin, staring at her with pleading eyes. A chilled breeze whisked through and tousled some potted plants and a few notebooks floating around, so Willow went over to close the window.  

“You’re my friend!” he spat, exasperated at his sudden loss for words. His fists tightened at his side as he gritted his teeth, angry with himself.

Willow blinked. “I’m glad you think so?”

“You need to go.”

“Just so we’re all clear, you are the one who is trespassing, so do you mean—“

“I care too much about you to let him take you!” he shouted, immediately his eyes widening with regret at what he said so he slapped his hand over his mouth to prevent himself from blurting out any more stupid things.

Willow’s face tinged carnation pink, but her eyes still said she was confused. She watched Hunter walk over to the wall to bang his head against it in frustration. This was not the first time he had tried to tell her something but could not get the words out. It was sweet, almost, that he was so adamant about saying things exactly as how he wants them to be said but then the words that garble out are not quite all put together. She walked over to sit next to their palismen, petting Flapjack in particular.

“You can take your time to figure out what you need to say, Caleb, but please, I don’t want to have to call Viney again for her healing spells on your forehead.”

Hunter stopped hitting his head against the wall, and instead, let it rest against it. He was still facing away from Willow. “That’s just it, Captain,” he said with a small smile that was fighting back his face’s urge to scrunch into tears, “we don’t really have time at all.”

Willow looked at Flapjack. He chirped. Willow’s eyes widened and she looked at Hunter. He was glaring at Flapjack then, for chirping at him to get to the point already but seeing Willow’s face changed his demeanor.

“Did you understand what Flapjack said?”

“I did. For the first time,” she said dumbfounded. “Which means this is really serious so you better sit down and spit it out.”

“Right,” Hunter said, scratching the scar on his face before sitting down next to her. Clover buzzed around him and then sat in his lap. “The latest mission that my uncle has given me is to bring you and Clover before Emperor Belos.”

Clover jumped out of his lap and into Willow’s.

“Are you here to.. arrest me?”

“No,” he almost laughed, “I’m here to warn you. I’m here to tell you leave, to escape. You need to get out of here now, because he expects my mission to be complete by sundown. I can help you until the end of the day but at that point I will need to return to come up with an excuse so he won’t go after anyone else-“

Willow was still confused. “Why would that even be your mission at all, how does that make any sense? I’m not anyone special, least of all to the Emperor-“

“It’s my fault. He figured out you are my friend and he is doing this to punish me.”

“For what?”

“Keep your voice down!” he shouted in a whisper, with his ears perked up. “Did someone knock at your front door?”

Willow was distracted by some of the Emperor’s guards closing in, not too far from her bedroom window. In an equally shouty whisper she said, “If you, the Golden Guard, are trying to help me escape, why did you bring the whole Coven with you?”

“I didn’t,” he said, suddenly grabbing her hand, with his ear to her door. “Your dad answered the door, Willow! We need to get out of here, now!”

“Who’s at the door? What about my parents? Why aren’t you explaining anything?!”

“I told you, there’s no time to explain!” Hunter said through gritted teeth, “Right now we need to leave, my uncle is here and I have never seen him leave the castle grounds, not once, we are both so incredibly DEAD if we don’t somehow get out!”

“Your uncle??”

Hunter has mentioned his uncle several times to Willow to describe stories of what life was like in the castle, but never exactly who is uncle was, in fear that would change her perception of him. No time like the present, right?

But Hunter was right, he had no time. Willow’s bedroom door unlocked from the outside and Hunter immediately jumped in front of Willow, retrieving Flapjack as his staff, and kept a wide stance. He was sweating more than he ever did at flyer derby practice. She could see he was genuinely scared.

Under her breath in a calmer voice she asked him again, “But what about my parents? I can’t just leave them here.”

There were three knocks at the door before the knob began to turn.

“They’re not the distraction,” he answered, voice wavering, “They’ll be fine.”

Willow bit her lip. She wanted to believe him but she still did not understand what was going on.

The door opens.

Hunter’s heart had never beat faster in his entire life but his face full of fear transformed into a stern glare.

 “I see you have been hiding a lot more from me than I realized,” said Emperor Belos.

Willow’s mouth gaped slightly open. Hunter’s uncle… was Belos himself. Her confused face quickly hardened into courage, standing behind Hunter.

“I should not have underestimated you.” Belos uttered, noticing their two palisman staffs. “You will both hand over your palisman staffs to me immediately,” he demanded, holding out his arm, expecting obedience.

“No,” Hunter defied. Willow nodded in agreement, placing one of her hands on Hunter’s shoulders.

“No?” his uncle’s eyebrows raised. “I wish I didn’t have to do this Hunter, but you give me no choice. Your distraction needs to be eliminated.” Belos raised his arm to strike a spell-bound blow to the witch standing behind him, but Hunter is quick to re-direct it toward the window, blasting one of the guards a few hundred feet back.

Okay, so Hunter was right. There was no time and the time was to escape. Now. Willow wanted to provide some kind of protection for her fathers at the very least but Hunter’s legs were trembling. He would not last long in this fight. In a swooping blow, Belos managed to strike Hunter across the face, leaving a second scar over his nose and eyebrow. In that moment, Willow saw her chance. She grabbed Hunter as he was falling and brought him close her face. She whispered, “Hold your breath,” covered his mouth with her one free hand. Immediately the ground just below them but not below Belos, caved in.

There was nothing but muffled shouting and darkness for what felt like minutes.

Eventually, Willow resurfaced them, to an area that was unrecognizable to both of them, surrounded by trees.

Hunter, in between gasps, “I thought,” he said, “I told you,” he heaved, “to never do that to me again,” he wheezed.

“A thank you would be fine too,” she replied, dusting off the dirt from her clothes. “Isn’t it handy, having a plant witch around when you need one?”

After finally catching his breath he braced his hands around his shoulders, looked directly into her eyes, and said, “We need to keep moving though, while we’re ahead.”

“Before that, you need to explain to me what Belos, your uncle, said back there.”

Hunter grimaced without answering, his ears suddenly feeling rather hot.

“Are the Emerald Entrails just a distraction for you? Is that what he meant?”

Hunter blinked. “Yes.”

“And Belos ordered you to eliminate me because of that?”

His eyes widened. “No!”

“So, what then? He wanted you to make me live in the castle? How would that have helped anyone?”

“I don’t know, Willow!” he shouted. “ I don’t… I don’t know.”

She stood there, watching him cover his face with his hands. He wiped off the bit of dried blood from the scratch his uncle had just given him. “I’ve been trying to understand my uncle’s orders and plans for years and I still don’t know.”

With pity and tries her best to console him briefly but he pushes her away.

“I’m trying to be your friend, you know.”

His tired eyes moved to face her.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m trying to be your friend too.”

Their micro-smiles shared with one another in silence were suddenly interrupted by a loud screech in the sky.

“Kikimora,” Hunter growled. “I was almost certain he had been joking but I guess the joke’s on me.”

“You’re gonna have to explain that one later,” Willow shouted, already beginning to run to jump on to her flying staff. Hunter followed suit, but something strange was up ahead. The air looked… warped? As if it were the sky touching the sea, touching the sand… but they were in the air, how was that possible?

“I think we should slow down!” Hunter shouted.

“What do you mean?” Willow shouted back.

And all of a sudden their staffs dropped to the ground, with them falling not soon after. “You know, I still haven’t a clue where we are.”

“I might,” Hunter said. “I’ve read about this particular area, it’s said to have wild magic in the sand that could supposedly make portals, maybe that’s our best bet—“

Hunter, with Flapjack, were now gone, disappeared, right before Willow’s eyes. She crawled to where he was laying and her environment warped into something knew, and she landed directly on top of Hunter with a loud “oomph”.

After getting up and brushing the dirt off of themselves again, they tried looking for whatever pushed them out to where they ended up, but they could not find it. Surrounding them was all forest, a forest they did not recognize. There was demonlife and such surrounding, but nothing looked familiar. They might be stuck there for a while.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – All We Have To Fear Is The Void

Willow wrapped her arms around herself as she continued walking in the foreign forest. It was starting to get dark, darker than it already was. It felt like they had been walking for hours. After it was deemed clearly impossible to find the portal from which they fell, the next logical step was to try and figure out where exactly they were and maybe find their way back that way. Magic was still possible (they tested it), so Hunter had flown up to get above the trees to see what the landscape was surrounding them. There had been clearly streaks of sunlight peeking through, but it was as if the trees themselves were never ending. He couldn’t get to the top. He couldn’t find it! And he didn’t want to admit it, Willow could sense that. She and Clover followed him up for a little while but when it was beginning to become clear that reaching the sky was not an option they had, she held her breath and sped up to Hunter immediately.

“Caleb,” she said sternly, catching hold of the back of his staff. He couldn’t face her. “Caleb, our palismen need a break.”

He hung his head low in defeat. His eyes were beginning to water. He didn’t have his mask to hide in. He couldn’t just face her like this.

“Caleb-“ she started again, but he whipped around, breaking off her hold of his staff.

“Why do you even still call me that?” he snapped, fighting back any tears that had begun to form.

Willow bit her lip. She pushed him a little too far this time. He was scared, but she was scared too! There’s no point in making arguments out of nothing, especially now. She sighed, but in calm and flat voice she asked, “Can we talk about it on the ground?”

They made eye contact briefly, but Willow did not wait for a response. She began flying down, carefully, to avoid branches, and as soon as her feet could touch the greenery, Clover fluttered back to his usual self, landing on her shoulder.

Hunter grimaced, but mostly at himself. He had done it again, he had lashed out. At her. And for what purpose? This was his fault they were stuck here in the first place. He made friends with her, He got caught by Belos, He told her to run away… and now he led them here, this, this forest prison! This was his thank you to her, for rescuing them both from his uncle’s wrath. He didn’t even care that she continued to call him Caleb. It didn’t actually bother him… but for once, he guessed, he wished she would address him by his given name.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, as soon as he made it back to the ground.

“Hunter,” she replied. His face shot up quickly. “That’s what you want me to call you now, isn’t it? I’m sorry I’ve never used you real name,” she said, reaching over to place her hand on his shoulder. “I think I just decided that ‘Caleb” was your Emerald Entrails side, and that ‘Hunter’, was your Golden Guard side. I just preferred Caleb but I never actually considered what you preferred.”

He stood up a little bit straighter, slightly uncomfortable with Willow standing so close to him. It was wholly unnatural to him just how quickly Willow seemed to forgive him. It’s not that she admitted to accepting his apology… it’s just that, it was clear to him she heard him, but… there was never any sort of punishment to be received afterward. Or penance. Or even acknowledgement that there was ever something he needed to apologize for.

He broke the slightly longer-than-expected gaze they had been holding. “Why,” he asked, “No, that’s not what I wanted to ask. Ugh!” he threw his hands up in the air in small frustration and started to walk ahead of her. Willow was a little perplexed but that is just how Hunter was. She knew she just had to wait a few seconds and-

“I’ve literally apologized to you countless times. I’ve done so many awful things, said so many awful things, stupid things, and it’s like—it’s as if that doesn’t even matter to you in the slightest!” he turned around to look at her briefly, as he started to hyperventilate, “it’s my fault we’re stuck here, and I shouted at you for absolutely no reason and I just don’t understand—I don’t understand how you are not angry at me! Why aren’t you upset?!”

Willow stopped walking. “You don’t think I’m upset?”

“Um,” his voice wavered.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Hunter,” she began, and crossed her arms, “But newsflash, I am upset. I’m just not upset at you. Not right now, anyway.”

“You’re.. you’re not?”

She walked over to catch up to him and quickly grabbed both of his hands. “I am upset that you yelled at me about calling you Caleb, and I am upset you didn’t tell me before that it bothered you but-“

“No, that was stupid, I don’t really care if you call me-“

“You obviously do care-“

“Yes, but I didn’t have to-“

“Exactly!” she beamed. “You’re getting it.”

Hunter blinked. He was not getting it.

“You apologized for yelling at me, and you meant that, right?”

“Yes! Of course I did!” he pleaded.

“Well that’s why I’m not upset with you, not now. You still have a lot of explaining to do, but I know when you apologize it’s for real. You mean it. So I accept your apology.”

Willow let go of one of his hands and continued walking, gently swinging his hand in hers back and forth. Unsure of how to proceed with this imminent entanglement, he walked with her, glancing curiously at her demeanor.

“I don’t want to admit it,” Willow said quietly, “but I am scared.”

“You?” Hunter let out a fragilely joked. “But you’re surrounded by your element!”

Flapjack and Clover fluttered around both of them with some encouraging chirps and buzzes.

She looked at him. “It’s okay to admit you are scared too.”

Hunter bit his lip, not wanting to face her earnest eyes.

“You are right though,” she said in a cheerful tone, “Besides the unknown creatures or demons that live in this forest, we’ll be all right for a lonnng while.” She let go of his hand to spin a spell circle. He immediately longed for it back and clenched his fist in embarrassment because he knew Flapjack could tell.

Her spell circle surrounded them with firefly lilies that lit up their path that was beginning to darken as time continued to pass.

She walked ahead of him, with her arms wrapped around herself. The firefly lilies provided some additional warmth but it was clear that she was starting to feel the chill in the air. Hunter looked at Flapjack, who squinted back at him with his one eye, almost as if he was winking. Hunter glared back but still, he took a deep breath and held it until he was walking beside Willow. Without saying anything, he took off his Golden Guard cloak and placed it on her shoulders. She accepted it, looking down at the ground as they continued walking next to each other. Her face flushed a little bit and she wondered if she should hold his hand again.

They walked together like that for a few minutes in silence until Hunter broke it. In a whisper he finally admitted, “I’m scared, too.”

Willow offered her hand and with a small smile, he took it. Immediately he had the courage to continue speaking.

“It didn’t really matter to me before, that you called me ‘Caleb’”, he said, “but now, it feels wrong, somehow. I’m not sure why it upset me the way it did.”

“Hunter is my name,” he continued, after he was quiet for a short beat. “It’s a stupid name, but it’s still mine, you know? It’s a part of me, even if it’s not something I chose, it’s still who I’ve always been.”

Willow giggled, “If you think your name is stupid, look who you’re talking to.”

“Your name isn’t stupid though!” he said with his voice raised a little higher, “At least it’s fitting!”

“Well, all you have ever called me is ‘Captain’, so-“

“Which is fitting too,” he mumbled, his face flushing a bit, but then his eyes got wide. “Does it bother you that I never called you ‘Willow’? I mean, I only did it because you never called me ‘Hunter’ and you were the Captain of the team so I felt like it made sense but-“

“It has never bothered me, I honestly get a kick out of it,” the Captain answered, “and I guess that’s another reason I continued to call you by your fake name, it just kind of felt like our own inside joke.”

Hunter laughed one of his more genuine laughs. It was rare to hear it, and Willow briefly closed her eyes to hold onto it in her mind. “I never thought of it like that before, but-“

“But you still want me to use your not-fake-name?”

“This is going to sound stupid but-“

“False. But continue,” she interrupted.

“But.. I’m scared that we don’t know how we are going to get out of this forest. I’m scared we don’t know how long we are going to be stuck here. Together. But I think, more than anything, I’m scared we’ll be stuck here this entire time and you’ll, you’ll—“ Hunter started sputtering again. Willow gave his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know she was still listening. “You’ll never know me. The real me. You said it yourself, you separate ‘Caleb’ and ‘Hunter’ as two different people, but they’re not. We are one person. And I guess, I don’t want to admit being scared of something so trivial but—“

“Hunter,” Willow interrupted again, with Hunter immediately gulping. “I get it. It will take me some time to accept your complete identity but I don’t think it will take more than you accepting mine as well. I want to make it back to the Boiling Isles alive, so we can number 1: save my parents,” she counted, then jumping in front of him, shoving two fingers at his face, “and TWO, kick your uncle’s ass,” she winked.

Hunter smirked, but she continued, “So, in order to do that, we need to have each other’s backs. Got it?”

Flapjack chirped.

“That’s right. NO betrayals allowed.”

A bead of sweat slid down Hunter’s forehead. Willow in Captain-mode was always a bit off-putting, but in a good way.

“So like we said before, we’re trying to be friends, right?”

Hunter nodded.

“Well, now we are friends,” she said matter-of-fact. “So now, you have one less thing to be scared of.”

“So now all we have to be scared of are the mysterious demons and creatures that lurk in the void?”

“Exactly!” she beamed with her eyes sparkling, and Clover buzzing around her.

This time, Hunter took her hand, and they marched onward, into the mysterious void that was this forest. They could do this. They will do this. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 -- Boiling Wild Magic

Hunter was fairly certain it had been about a week so far in this forest but Willow stopped keeping track at what she thought was perhaps day three. It’s not that they couldn’t see daylight peek through the canopy occasionally, they could, but minutes felt like hours and sometimes hours felt like minutes. Her sleep cycle was trying to adapt but it did not feel like it was doing a very good job. She didn’t want to complain too much though, seeing Hunter’s eyebags get droopier each time she glanced at him. He claimed he was sleeping fine but she wondered if he actually slept at all.

Each day they had been walking for miles at a time and at this point, Willow was exhausted. They were able to eat what Willow managed to provide via a few plant spells, but they have not had access to running water. They were thirsty and.. and they stunk. Pretty bad. The first day they were holding hands but today they were walking a good distance apart. Even Clover and Flapjack were keeping their distance. Willow didn’t want to believe they were walking in circles because Hunter was smart enough to leave trail marks they’d recognize every so often on the trees but—

“Do you hear that?” Hunter said with cautious excitement.

Willow pushed her hair behind her ears and stopped walking. It sounded like… running water? “Where is it coming from?” she asked out loud, cupping her hand behind her ear this time, looking in all directions.

“We can follow Flapjack, he went ahead to find it. C’mon!”

Hunter’s giddy excitement made her smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. She had been noticing here and there she’d see foliage and botanicals she recognized but majority of them, including the trees themselves, were alien to her. Of course there would have to be water somewhere, but what kind of water is this? Would this water make them grow as tall as the trees? She chuckled, but then her eyes widened. She needed to get ahead of Hunter before he could guzzle down anything he found.

“Hunter!” she shouted. “Wait!” She caught up to him, catching sight of him dunking his head in a large stream.

She grabbed his collar from behind and yanked him out, and he reacted by knocking her back, which caused her to fall and hit her head.

Clover fluttered over to her, making several concerned buzzing sounds, and then staring daggers at Hunter until he realized what just happened.

“Willow?” he asked hesitantly, frozen by the edge of the water. Flapjack bumped him toward her via back of the head. Hunter barely noticed the nudge because his eyes locked were on Willow’s torso, biting his tongue until he saw her chest rise.

“Was that,” she grumbled, beginning to sit up as Clover transformed into her staff to provide support, “really necessary?”

“I-I—“ Hunter sputtered, spitting some of the water out to the side, still drenched from dunking his head. He kept looking around where she was sitting, trying to find the words, any words at all, to make up for what just happened. He was sorry, yes, but he was baffled. There was water! And it wasn’t boiling! They hadn’t come across actual water in 8 days-yes, he was counting. His next thought was to help Willow stand up but he looked at down at his hands. The water still dripping was sparkling, practically. He didn’t understand why, there wasn’t a whole lot of light where they were. He ran his fingers through his hair, and… it felt as if… his hair.. was longer?

“Sit,” the Captain commanded, and Hunter silently obeyed, still trying to process what was going on. “Nice locks you got there, buddy,” she chuckled, and Flapjack nodded in jest. Hunter immediately wiped his hands on the mossy ground, trying his best to dry out whatever this sparkly river was left on him.

He scooched himself further away from the river and sat against one of the gigantic trees. Within a few minutes his hair was down to his shoulders but after a bit, it seemed to stop.

“You didn’t actually take a sip of that water, did you?” Willow asked, still sitting down where she had been knocked down.

Hunter shook his head. Willow sighed in both relief and disappointment. “I’m pretty sure that river is the source of these forever-trees’ growth,” she said. “I don’t know if I can really confirm it, but it’s a solid guess.”

“I think my hair length now matching yours pretty much proves that, don’t you think!” Hunter yelled, but not at Willow. He yelled it upward, toward the tree he was sitting against. His voice cracked and it sounded drier than usual. He hugged his knees with his head down, not wanting to admit defeat once again.

Willow crawled over to lay down next to him, looking up at the impossible-to-reach canopy. She placed both of her hands together below her chest and sighed once more. They were tired and thirsty, and they really could not risk drinking any of the water from that river. At this point, both Hunter and Willow were comfortable spending time together in silence but at that moment it felt nearly unbearable. There was no end to this forest in sight. They found no trace of any portal of any kind, and the only thing on Willow’s mind besides their survival was her parents back home. Her Papa and her Appa. She didn’t want to imagine what Belos would do to them after witnessing him strike Hunter right in front of her, ready to attack her, and for what?

She closed her eyes. An extremely salty tear made its way down her cheek and her breath became shaky. Her nose and chest suddenly felt hot.

After blinking back some of the tears, she took off her glasses to wipe her eyes. She sniffled and sat up to sit next to Hunter. He sat up straight when her shoulder bumped into his side, and saw her upset face. He immediately cringed out of uncertainty, uncomfortable with having to figure out how to make her feel better, especially since he wasn’t doing so hot himself.

She did not remove herself from his personal space and nor did she even look at him. She reached into her pocket to pull out her scroll to swipe it open. The light glowed gently on her now neutral expression as she swiped through some of the applications. Hunter watched like a small curious kitten.

They had already tried using their scrolls to contact Willow’s friends in the Boiling Isles but they dared not to contact anyone who could report them to Belos- not that it would have mattered anyway because they could not reach anyone. The service was non-existent in this place. Willow waved her hand for a small spell circle and a few small glowing mushrooms popped up by her feet. She tapped the scroll against the top of one of them, and while the mushroom immediately crumpled, the battery power levels of her scroll immediately returned to 100%. She continued to swipe on her scroll, still not making eye contact with Hunter or the palismen who were also now watching her in curiosity.

Hunter stared in amazement and again, in confusion. He was certain of one thing and one thing only: there would always be moments like this with Captain Willow Park. He picked up a large pebble that was next to Flapjack and threw it into the river, making a small splash. He successfully broke Willow’s gaze at her scroll and she stared at him, frowning.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m impressed you know a way to charge your scroll in the middle of nowhere but, why even bother?” he asked. “We have zero connection here. We literally checked the first day.”

“Correction,” she said. “You checked the first day. I check once a day, every day.”

“Okay,” he replied, “and?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, blinking back another tear that was forming. “I just want to remember who I’m surviving for, that’s all,” she said in an even smaller voice, handing her scroll to him.

He accepted it with raised eyebrows of concern at her after she dropped her head onto his shoulder. She didn’t move or say anything more so he looked on the screen. It was the first selfie she took of the Emerald Entrails. Hunter couldn’t stop himself from half-smiling, but he was quick to return it to a frown. He swiped through some of the photos and found several pictures of Willow with her parents, and then with the human and their friends. The more he swiped ahead though, he found pictures of himself when he had spent time with her outside of flyer derby practice. He didn’t even remember her taking some of these and he slightly jerked in reaction, which made Willow open her eyes to see what picture he was looking at. Her eyes widened and she immediately swiped her scroll back, tears gone but the pink in her cheeks did not go away.

“Don’t you have pictures on your scroll that you want to hold onto?” she asked, semi-changing the subject and shoving her scroll back into her pocket.

“Just Flapjack doing cute things, mostly, I think.”

“You don’t have any pictures hanging out with your Emperor Coven Pals?”

“Maybe with Steve?” he shrugged, “most of the Coven aren’t really my friends, they’re just… like soldiers under my command. Well, they were, anyway. Most of them thought it was a joke I was the Golden Guard when they saw my face for the first time and now? I doubt I will have anything to come back to.”

They were quiet again, letting the running water take up the sound between them.

“Can I see?”

Hunter made another uncomfortable face. He was good at that. He was never good at sharing, especially personal things. It’s not that he was raised to be a selfish brat but it felt… unnatural to allow someone to see something he himself only had access to. Sharing those things made him vulnerable and being vulnerable meant revealing to your enemy your weaknesses. He might be Willow’s friend now but… he was still the Golden Guard.

“You don’t have to hand it to me,” she said, picking up on his thoughts. “You can just scroll through some of the pictures while I look.”

He did admit to her that he wanted her to know him, the real Hunter. “I guess that’s okay,” he agreed, and took out his scroll to tap on one of the glowing mushrooms. The screen lit up immediately. “Still amazing,” he said under his breath.

With his index finger, he swiped through the gallery of pictures he had collected. Most of them were of Flapjack, like he said, but many were also of his time at Hexside. There were a lot of pictures of Luz, in particular. He… forgot about that. A part of his agreement to continue playing for the Emerald Entrails was to take surveillance on the human. Sitting next to Willow while he went through these photos felt embarrassing and he didn’t understand why. He was just doing his job. Willow didn’t make a sound though, not until the last photo. It was of Flapjack (of course), but also Clover and her, in her family’s backyard, showing Hunter the garden she tended to regularly. Her mouth gaped open a little in a pleasant surprise.

“I don’t remember you taking a picture of this,” she remarked gently, “You should send it to me—well, when we get back, that is.” Her excitement fell but determination returned. “Scroll back to one of the pictures of Luz,” she directed.

“I can explain-“

“I don’t care why you took the picture, just scroll back,” she commanded again.

“Okay, geez!” Hunter gulped, wondering what she’d do if he didn’t do as she said. “Which one?”

“Don’t you have some where she’s using her glyphs? We should try to find one with a snippet of an ice glyph. I’ll look on my phone too, I just can’t remember what they look like!”

A light clicked on in Hunter’s mind. “Ice… is water.”

Willow nodded, furiously swiping through her scroll, trying to find something.

“Got it!” Hunter jumped. “I got it, I got it!”

“Well? Draw it, already!”

“But I—“

“Luz is human, so if she can do it, you definitely can.”

This was wild magic he was about to interfere with but so was that river so there really was no going back now, right? There was no sweat left to trickle down his face as he concentrated. Holding his scroll with one hand to look at the zoomed-in image of the glyph, he used his other to trace the glyph shape in the dirt.

“Okay. Here goes nothing,” he winced, and tapped the glyph. A large ice block immediately pushed its way out of the ground and both he and Willow giddily cheered.

“You don’t think,” Hunter asked after taking a breath from jumping up and down, “that this ice is made of the water from the river, do you?”

Willow’s face blanked for a few seconds. “Honestly, I am not sure. We should still probably boil it before we drink it though.”

“How are we going to do that? We don’t exactly have pots and pans,” he said flatly, “or an ice pick, for that matter.”

“Let’s walk a little further away from the river and you can start a fire. I will take care of the rest.”

With her magic, she found the clay below the dirt in the ground and was able to mold a small pot. It needed to be fired before they placed the ice inside. It reminded her of her sad and sloppy creatures she could barely produce in the Abominations track… well, at least this one had a functional purpose.

As well as starting a fire, Hunter was able to roll over some of the “small” branches that had broken off a couple of the giant trees so they had a place to sit while the pot was fired and eventually the water boiled.

“I’m glad you know how to build a fire,” Willow said, as she placed the pot on some of the flatter rocks above the flames.

“You said that the last few times, too.”

“Well, the fact hasn’t changed,” she shrugged.

“I needed to learn how to rely on myself without magic,” he said, as he watched the fire. “Even if I can do human glyph magic now… I didn’t have that before. Wild magic is illegal.” His face relaxed to be more neutral, which was his attempt to ignore his personal opinions of his uncle’s laws.

“Well, we’re surrounded by wild magic now. What do you think that river is made of? Its properties must be incredible, for it to grow the trees and.. whatever else, this way,” she said, gesturing to Hunter’s bob.

Trying to brush it off even though his face got heated he allowed a personal curiosity slip out, “I wonder what it would be like to study the wild magic in this place, like, what if we brought the water to a lab? Maybe we could utilize it in some kind of minimally invasive way to make sure crops grow when they are supposed to but somehow instill a regulation so they don’t overgrow like these things.” He looked up at the endless canopy again. He was going to injure his neck if he didn’t stop doing that.

Willow’s soft smile put him at ease after catching a glimpse of it. She let her gaze settle on Hunter as his own returned to the fire. His hands were calloused and his face was scarred, the one that Belos had given him was still scabbing. She caught him picking at it several times along their journey and asked Flapjack to peck at him any time he tries. Flapjack obliged with no questions.

He had taken off his cloak and shirt that he wore over his armor. It was still shiny, glinting as the fire flickered.

“Do you think boiling the water will really get rid of the possible wild magic?”

“We can test it on your cloak first,” she suggested.

He pulled it close to him quickly before she had a chance to take it first, not willing for it to be a test subject, but then he got a whiff and it was not just a smell, it was a stench. “Yeah,” he choked. “Okay.”

“It’s still a guess, but I think it might work because any of the water we have on the Boiling Isles… has well, been boiled.”

Hunter blinked. “It’s a possibility, and I hope, for my only keepsake I have from my father that you’re right.”

Willow’s eyes widened and her and the palms of her hand jumped to her chest. “We don’t have to, we can use something else-“

“No, it’s best to use it,” he said, “I think the worst thing that could happen is that it would get bigger and if it gets any colder at night we could still use it. Here.” He handed it to her, looking at her eyes that had not changed their expression.

“I will be careful,” she assured him, taking it, but keeping it at her arms’ length. It did have a stench.

Hunter nodded solemnly and sat back down on the branch with his head in his hands, eyes back on the fire. They were eventually going to have to figure out how to wash all of their clothes… and.. bathe. Nope, not thinking about that, not thinking about THAT. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – Soapy Spells

After swiping through both of their scrolls, Hunter and Willow found images of the 4 basic glyphs Luz always had stuffed in her pockets. Ice they had already discovered, Then light, then plant growth, and then fire. Hunter committed them to memory immediately by practicing them a bunch at once. While he was doing that, Willow continued to search for Luz’s combination of glyphs for some of her more advanced glyph magic, but she could not find any through the pictures, even after looking through all of the pictures that Hunter had taken. She really liked the pictures he took of Flapjack though, they were all incredibly sweet. Clover buzzed around her, admiring them.

“Yeah, we should take more selfies together, huh?” she giggled. She pet Clover gently on the head, but she buzzed away quickly. Right. They had not used the water they had boiled to bathe yet.

However, after washing Hunter’s cloak and waiting a good while, leaving it out to dry on a rock near the fire Hunter had built without glyph magic, they determined it was safe. Safe enough, at least. They had boiled more of the ice and took turns guzzling it down after it’d cool, and then it was time to boil even more so they could wash the rest of their clothes… and themselves. In the meantime, Willow was firing a second pot on the fire that Hunter started with the glyph magic. Neither of them had any interest in sharing a single pot of water to wash themselves and so without even addressing the issue Hunter had started the second fire a good distance away from the first one. Behind one of the giant trees. There would be little chance of them accidentally catching sight of one another in their most physically vulnerable state. He almost created the fire TWO trees away but he then considered his exhaustion and decided that one tree between them would be enough.

He didn’t even understand why he felt so embarrassed. After memorizing the glyphs and playing around with a couple of combination attempts (which failed), he laid nearby the second fire, just barely out of Willow’s sight. Here he was, stuck with—no, not stuck—just with one of the most powerful young witches he had ever met…and also one of the strongest! He recalled their first meeting and the handshake that nearly took him out and let out a small giggle, slapping his hand to his forehead at the thought.

“Hunter!” Willow called, and he immediately sat up. Willow was waving at him but she looked…different. “I tried out a weaving spell with some pelt puff moss, and check it out!”

As she walked closer, he saw her hair was damp and noticed she was wearing a soft green robe. Looking past her he noticed she had hung up her clothes by the fire. His cheeks suddenly felt hot.

“You-you already—“

“Yeah,” she laughed, tossing him a second robe. It landed over his head and he pulled it down which tousled his hair onto his face. “Clover noticed bunches of the moss that were covering some of the lower branches of the tree when I was brainstorming a little bit for how to approach, um, our situation,” she gestured at both of them.

“Uh, yeah, um,” he said, not sure how long it was going to take his brain to finish buffering.

“I’m just going to assume you can shower yourself—the water should be boiled enough by now. After you wash your clothes you can just lay them on some of the rocks by the fire or I can help you hang them up with mine.”

Hunter nodded his head slowly, unsure why Willow continued to stand there.

“Oh! Also, you might want some of this!” she said, twirling a spell with her finger and placing a small bowl she had been carrying into his hands. From her spell, a somewhat aromatic liquid poured into the bowl, and it splashed a little on both of their faces.

“Sorry it’s only an herb oil and not your typical wash soap but it’s the best I could figure out.” She stepped back and waited for Hunter to reply, but he just stared. “And um, the pelt puff moss? It’s not like we can keep these permanently, I wouldn’t know how to seal that kind of spell, but it’s good enough for now, right?”

Another beat of silence passed of them facing one another with Willow feeling a bit more timid as each second passed.

“I could have—“ Hunter sputtered, “I could have just seen you, why didn’t you—I could have—“

“Relax!” Willow replied, suddenly realizing some of the implications. “You couldn’t have, I um, Clover and Flapjack helped me set up a curtain with the tree leaves and stuff, you wouldn’t have—“

Flapjack chirped cheerfully, fluttering from behind her to settle on the rock furthest from the fire.

“Also, I thought you might have already been asleep, she said sheepishly. “You were lying down, so I just—“

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, directing his gaze to her feet, which were bare. “Thank you, for this.”

“You’re welcome,” she beamed.

“I think I got it from here though, so, um-“ he looked up to meet her eyes, “Like you said, I can shower myself.”

“Yep!” she exclaimed, turning around immediately to walk back to fire. She hoped she turned around fast enough so he did not see her face flushing deep red. “Scrub well!” she shouted, unsure if that was really necessary.

“With what?” Hunter yelled back.

Without turning around, Willow spun her finger for another spell and a sponge blossom bounced off of Hunter’s head. She swore she heard Flapjack chuckle. “You’re welcome!” she shouted, and immediately was out of sight. Papa and Appa would surely be sharing a heart attack if they knew she was out camping alone with a boy they barely knew. With the rest of the pelt puff moss that Clover gathered she spell-weaved a cushiony place to rest not too far from the fire and began turning her pseudo-curtain into a small tent. They may not actually stay here too long but she hoped she would be able to convince Hunter later that it could be a good idea to take a rest stop for a few days. By the time she was done putting up the tent, she was ready for sleep, or at least, a nap. Waiting for Hunter to finish washing up wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on too much so with closing her eyes, she began to dream about their return to the Boiling Isles, imagining what it would be like to explain to her parents that she had to help the Golden Guard take a bath.

--

Hunter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as soon as he couldn’t see Willow anymore.

“Not one tweet out of you,” he sneered at Flapjack, but his eyes softened and then his shoulders relaxed. Flapjack obeyed, but not without a small smirk in his beak, snuggling into some of the extra pelt puff moss he brought along himself.

“I don’t know if I have ever felt more exposed in my whole life,” Hunter said out loud while scrubbing his trousers. “There is not a single witch in this cursed forest besides us it seems and I can’t help but feel like, like it’s a trick or a game or something! And I hate that there is nothing I can do about it, it’s not like we can just avoid this situation when we’re both stuck here. Ugh!”

Eyes shut, Flapjack replied with a quiet chirp.

“It’s called being rhetorical,” he huffed to his palisman, “I wasn’t looking for your opinion. But thanks, anyway,” he grumbled, continuing to wash everything else in silence.

After doing his best with the sponge blossom, Hunter was as clean as he could get. He wrapped the robe around him that Willow had thrown at him and sat next to Flapjack to give him a few pats. It was definitely a huge relief to finally feel a bit refreshed. Hunter sat up straighter, suddenly.

“Do you think Willow would want me to go over there, now?”

Flapjack just blinked at him.

“Well my clothes aren’t dry yet and this thing is nice but I don’t know, I just feel awkward and, ugh!” he threw up his hands and the tugged on his hair. “How did it suddenly get harder to be around her? We just spent a whole stinking week together stuck in this place and now I can’t talk to her? What is happening to me?”

Flapjack eyed him again.

“Honestly I’m not sure if that was rhetorical because it’d be nice to have an answer but I can’t imagine you know what it is.”

The little cardinal shrugged.

“Yeah, okay,” he grumbled, “I know sitting here isn’t providing answers either. Let’s go find Willow. At the very least we have to talk about what’s next, now that we have glyphs. It’s not like we have to stick around the river but I wonder if we should start following it in one direction.”

Flapjack fluttered to his shoulder and whispered a small tweet in his ear, which reddened immediately.

“You better not have mentioned anything of the sort to her behind my back!” and the little cardinal nestled more comfortably into his shoulder. “Cheeky little bird,” Hunter muttered.

--

Hunter walked barefoot, following the trail of moss that Willow pathed, toward her camp. Because yes, that’s what it was! A camp! Hunter saw all of her clothes still hung up on a line to dry and then a small open tent by the fire that was beginning to dim with just the embers left. He took one the broken off twigs and tossed it in to give it a little more life and then sat on the log-like branch they had rolled there. He kept turning his head, looking to see where she had gone, and then suddenly remembered that her clothes were still on the line. “Willow?” he winced, still looking around.

A small buzz came from the small tent. Hunter got up and swallowed nervously, having no idea how to start a conversation from this situation.

But he didn’t have to. Willow was fast asleep, wrapped in her green robe, her glasses still on her face. Although, they were lopsided. He knelt down and carefully removed them without causing her to stir, and placed them by Clover, who also appeared to be sleeping.

Hunter sighed in relief. He didn’t have to start any conversation at all! And she looked peaceful. He felt comfortable enough to sit next to her and watch the fire. He wasn’t quite ready to sleep himself, but perhaps he could rest here for a little bit. They could wait until tomorrow to talk about what was next.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – Origins, Part I

Willow begrudgingly woke up to the pecking at her forehead and the jabbing at her side. Flapjack was chirping frantically in her ear and when she turned around she saw Hunter tossing and turning in a cold sweat right there next to her.

She looked up and noticed the fire had gone out, aside from a couple of embers that still had a soft glow. It was exceptionally dark and she did not remember falling asleep or Hunter wearing the robe she spell-weaved for him.

“Flapjack,” she whispered, “where are my glasses?”

He fluttered to where Clover was resting and let out a soft chirp.

“Thank you, little guy,” she said as she reached for them. With her lenses back she directed her gaze back to Hunter. “Is he okay?”

Flapjack didn’t have an answer to vocalize, he only nudged Willow worryingly.

She waved her finger to sprout a few firelilies as she had done quite often along their journey. Their gentle glow gave her enough light to see but not enough to disturb Clover or Hunter as they slept, however—

Willow’s eyes widened with concern. Hunter was sleeping but… he looked like he was having some kind of nightmare. “Should I wake him up?”

Flapjack warbled in reply.

“Why would that be rhetorical?” she whispered, perplexed. “Never mind, I’m going to anyway.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Hunter?”

“No, you can’t, Uncle!” he cried, thrashing at Willow’s touch. She pulled back but went back in a little more aggressively. “Hunter, it’s just Willow, it’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” Both of her arms reached for his.

“I’ll find you other palismen, I promise, just not--just not them!” he yelled, which made Willow jump, hitting one of the branches that was holding up the tent. Immediately the structure fell apart, leaves and branches on top of them. Hunter started to cry out but could barely voice anything because he began hyperventilating, feeling completely paralyzed. “Where-where am—“

“Hunter, it’s just me, it’s just Willow. I’m going to grab your hand, okay?”

She took his hand and with her other she used her magic to toss the remnants of the tent aside, leaving just them and the firelilies.

She locked eyes with Hunter’s panicked face and then grabbed his other hand and scooched a little bit closer. His breathing started to slow down just a little bit but it sped up again—he turned his head looking for—

“Flapjack is fine,” she said gently, “he was worried about you though. It looked like you were having a pretty bad nightmare.”

Flapjack flapped his way to Hunter’s lap and Hunter pulled away from Willow’s grasp to pick him, holding him close. At last, his breathing slowed back to normal.

Clover bumbled over drowsily to nuzzle Willow. “Sorry for waking you up,” she chuckled softly, and stroked the sleepy bee’s fuzz. She looked at Hunter again. “Did you um, did you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to scare them,” he answered quietly, still petting his palisman. He received a questioning chirp. “Especially you,” he said to Flapjack.

“You cried out in your sleep.”

Hunter looked up to see Willow’s worried expression, and then noticed she was still wearing her pelt puff moss robe. They both were wearing the robes. “I-I didn’t mean to fall asleep—“  he started.

“I don’t mind you fell asleep here, Hunter,” she said, looking directly into his eyes. “In fact, I’m kind of glad. I’ve been getting worried you don’t actually sleep, so it’s good to know you can.”

Hunter was silent.

“You said something though, you cried out. When I tried to wake you,” she said. “I, um, I want to know what it was about. It seems to be something that’s been bothering you for a long time and you still haven’t really given me a full explanation on what happened with your uncle and I don’t want to push you but—“

“It’s fine,” Hunter interrupted, with a neutral expression. “I’ve been putting it off, I thought—“ he said looking up, eyes beginning to water, “I thought maybe I wouldn’t have to if we got some way out sooner but—“

“You were planning on just never telling me?”

“No!” he exclaimed, raising his voice. “The thought has just been rotting in my brain ever since we got here and I didn’t think it was right to tell you until I felt like I processed it myself but I just—I just—I just can’t.” He hugged Flapjack even tighter, with his head hitting his knees.

Willow stood up, brushed off the minor debris from the tent collapse, and then walked over to her line of dried clothes. She reached up at the end where she hung his cloak and unclipped it. After returning to where Hunter was sitting, she wrapped one half around herself, sat next to him; Flapjack squirmed his way out to grab the other half to wrap around him and then snuggled back in. Hunter’s heart quickened when Willow took his hand again and squeezed it.

“You said something about your uncle and about palismen. Whatever he does with them… how bad is it?” she asked, staring at Clover, sound asleep once again.

Hunter took a small breath but shuddered. “My uncle… has some kind of curse that was caused by wild magic. He said it’s what destroyed the ability for me and my own family to use magic, too. The only thing that weakens the curse is for him to—“ he paused and then finished more quietly, “to consume palismen.”

“W-what?”

“He destroys them and the curse consumes their souls,” he cried, hugging Flapjack as tightly as he could. Willow’s face fell in horror. “I never gave him specifics about being on the Emerald Entrails but he found out that you were my friend and you have a palisman and he—he assigned me to turn you both in to him.”

Flapjack warbled in fear, nuzzling close to his chest.

“I tried to ask why, I tried to understand… but then he threaten to assign Kikimora to assassinate you. He called you a distraction. Not Gus, not Viney, not Skara… you.”

“A… a distraction?” Willow asked, slightly enraged and very confused.

“He showed me hundreds of pictures of us, and Clover too. Someone had been watching us whenever I’d walk with you after flyer derby practice but I don’t know how or who—“ he sobbed, “that’s why I told you that you needed to run. I couldn’t—I couldn’t let him find you, I couldn’t let him take you or Clover—“

“What… what would he even do with me?”

“And now he knows about Flapjack. I don’t know what scares me more—being stuck here for an eternity or finding a way back to Belos.”

“I’m just a kid!” she cried, “What would he do to a kid??”

“So am I, Captain,” he said, and gestured to his face. “He doesn’t hold back just because I’m younger than everyone else in the coven.”

“What about Papa and Appa?” she said in a fragile voice, crumpling into his side.

“I… I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He wanted to comfort her as she tried to for him but he didn’t know how.

They sat there together for a few minutes in silence, trying not to think about what Belos’ next step would be.

“Did you know your parents?” Willow asked.

“No.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I know very little about them from what my uncle has told me. All I really know is that they lost their lives to a group of wild witches and my uncle took me in.”

Willow didn’t really have a response to that.

“What are your parents like?”

“You’ve met them, you know what they’re like.”

“Barely. Can you tell me about them?”

“Would you believe me if I told you one of my dads is actually my uncle?”

“What do you mean?”

“My Appa, he um, he’s technically my uncle. I don’t really see him that way since I’ve only really known him as my Appa since I was a baby, but—“  she added softly, “he and Papa took me in, after my ‘real’ parents decided they didn’t want me.”

Hunter’s eyes widened in surprised.

“How could they… how could they not want you?”

Willow showed him a half-smile that trembled a bit before she let it fall. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Because I have my Appa and Papa.” She curled into more of a fetal position, leaning against Hunter. “Had,” she corrected herself, and then tears streamed down her cheeks.

Hunter felt her sob into his side and an uncomfortable wave of guilt washed over him. He begged Willow to run away and then she did. With him. She had a family to return to and he had Belos.

“When we make it back,” Hunter said with some wavering courage, “and find them, and your friends—do you think—“ he paused, biting his lip, “Do you think we’d be able to find a home for Flapjack?”

Blinking back her tears, Willow sat up to face him and his already small frame cowered. Flapjack chirped loudly, rustling in his lap. Pointing her finger just an inch away from his face she said in a stern voice, “If you think,” Hunter’s eyes widened, “for one second, that you don’t—that you don’t—“ she sputtered. “Ugh, how am I turning into you?” she said, throwing up her hands in frustration. Hunter cocked his head to the side, both confused and a little afraid of what she was going to say.

“Flapjack and I aren’t going to let you go back to Belos alone.”

“But you can’t—“

“Hunter!” she shouted, waking Clover up. “Belos is a monster!”

Her cry echoed, bouncing off the trees that surrounded them in the dark.

More softly she added, “Luz is right; he’s not who he ever really claimed he was.”

“But he’s my uncle. He’s… all I have.”

“Wrong.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re wrong. He’s not all you have.”

Flapjack and Clover fluttered around him, nuzzling against his face, which tickled a bit. He tried to wave them a way, but they persisted until he finally let out a small laugh.

“I need you to make a promise to me, Hunter.”

Her sincerity entranced him every time in awe.

“I need you to promise that you will never try to run off and face Belos alone.”

He nodded, slowly.

“I need you to promise you will help me rescue my parents.”

“Promised that one already.”

“I need you to promise you will let us take care of you- it’s not really up to me exactly, but my parents or even Eda would be happy to adopt you—I need you to promise you’ll let them.”

“I don’t know if I can keep that promise if it never happens.”

“Promise me you’ll be open to it.”

Hunter’s gaze met hers again. It was extremely difficult to argue against her but she must not realize that there would be no way anyone would want to adopt the Golden Guard… Ex-Golden Guard at that. If he didn’t go back to Belos he would be going back as a failure and would never be deemed worthy of the position again.

Flapjack tweeted aggressively at him.

“How could you!—“ Hunter gasped, appalled. “How can say being the Golden Guard was never a worthy position to begin with?”

His palisman lowered its gaze in uncertainty. Hunter dropped down on his stomach so he could face him eye-to-eye. “You would never say that without a real reason,” he demanded. “Explain.”

Willow, also curious, picked up Clover and waiting for Flapjack’s answer.

Flapjack let out the smallest chirp he possibly could.

“You were the palisman of the first Golden Guard?“ they shouted in unison.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Survival Fluff

Sprinkled sunlight scattered through the trees.

Hunter’s eyes opened reluctantly, squinting at the far-off canopy. “Day twelve.”

Willow sat up and yawned. She put on her glasses and looked to her right to see Clover gently buzzing awake. Flapjack was there beside her, but still in staff form. She sighed. “Day Four,” she whispered, cradling the small bird, hoping she’d hear a faint chirp.

Hunter turned his head to see his palisman. Flapjack said he was the first Golden Guard’s… that he was carved by him! But that’s all they knew because the second he and Willow began badgering him frantically with questions, he transformed and has not transformed back since.

Willow started the usual morning routine they had adapted to since agreeing to camp out in the same spot for a few days. At first it was to wait out Flapjack’s clamming up but now they were just procrastinating on the inevitable that they should move on. Reigniting their campfire she prepared a humble breakfast.

Hunter watched her without words, with very little motivation to get up himself. He really ought to go and check the trap he set up a few trees downstream to see if he caught anything that could add protein to their diet but for the past couple of nights he had proven to be unsuccessful. After glancing at Flapjack again he grabbed his armor, stood up, and collected the rest of his clothing that he had folded precariously next to their tent.

“This might sound like a stupid question to you,” Willow asked, “but we’ve been here for a few days. You don’t have to wear your armor all of the time. Don’t you get tired of it?”

Hunter was mid putting his arm through his tunic that went over his armor when he turned around half-way, face very flushed. “Are you watching me get dressed for a reason?”

Willow’s cheeks burned a tinge of pink. “You’re literally standing right in front of me. You could stand behind the tent if you really wanted to.”

This was stupid. He was just adding his other layers, it’s not like he was getting dressed after he had washed up. He finished putting his boots on still facing away from her and when he turned around he crossed his arms, blowing the strand of hair away that had a habit of getting stuck in his face. “You never know what might happen. That’s why I put it on every day.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugged, and placed a small plate of wadberries she and Clover had been collecting yesterday beside her and then one plate of them on her lap. Hunter went to go sit by her and took the plate in his lap. He was exceptionally grateful for Willow’s plant spell skills as well as her wild magic botanical knowledge applications. He’s read a decent amount himself about the crossovers of botany and wild magic. He knew the very basics of what kind of ivy to avoid and what kind of berry was edible. Willow knew all of these as well but there was a big difference between them, aside from the lack of magical ability he had. She knew how to apply this knowledge to their situation and was creative with it! He knew wadberries were edible but they were bitter and hard to chew. Willow knew how hot the fire needed to be in order to roast them, making them soft and sweet. He savored them as long as he could while he sat next to her.

“If your trap was a success last night, we should salvage what we can. Once we’ve eaten, we should probably take down our camp and start moving again. The next morning, that is.”

Hunter’s gaze fell onto Flapjack again and the berries suddenly tasted sour in his mouth.

Willow placed her hand on his back with a half-hearted smile. “He’ll come back to us when he’s ready.”

“He looked so afraid, Willow.”

“I know.”

--

While Hunter left to check on his trap, Willow set herself up ready to climb. She had a regular exercise routine back on the Boiling Isles that she was determined not to give up while she was stuck here, not if she didn’t have to. Spell weaving some vines together to create a sturdy rope, she practiced throwing it up at the tree that was closest to the camp. The lowest branch was still quite high up and she was determined to get the rope over it so she could use it to climb. The past few days she had been unsuccessful as Hunter predicted, and she really wanted to prove to him she could do it, as pointless as it all was. She tried to explain to him it was just a way to help her keep in shape by turning it into a game against herself, without much magic involved. It’s not like it’d be worth much if she cheated against herself, right? Besides, it helped take her mind off things.

The task was a little bit dangerous so Hunter opted to take Flapjack with him each time, not wanting any accidents to happen. Clover hung out by the second smaller camp that Hunter had set up the first day they arrived to this area. It was currently not in use and a safe distance away. Reason being, Willow needed a counter-weight at the end of her rope so once she got it over the branch, she could lower it by loosening her grip until the other end reached her grasp. She had been using small rocks the past couple of days which were not quite getting the job done. She had accidentally knocked down their tent a couple of times already. The day before, she worked on widdling a dull point on a broken down branch that was about half her height. Her rationale was that if it was similar to arrow, and perhaps it’d fly higher that way. Hunter had serious doubt, but mostly in her ability to throw it higher than the rocks. The wide javelin she had shaved down was not exactly light. Even if Willow is stronger than she looks, he couldn’t imagine her throwing it past the halfway point of what she was aiming for.

Her next order of business was choosing a different spot to throw from. It would be more difficult to throw it directly up above her so she needed to take several steps back so she could throw it at a decent angle. The eleventh try, she finally got it. Her exasperated but joyful “YES!” echoed beyond the camp.

A smile curled up on Hunter’s face when he heard it and he shook his head. “We’ll believe it when we see it. Right, buddy?”

The wooden cardinal did not reply but Hunter did not break into a frown this time because ahead, he saw something caught in his trap.

Before securing one side of the rope into the ground, Willow called Clover over to let her palisman know it was safe to return, but also to be there in case she were to fall. After tugging and yanking on it a few times to check if it was good to climb, she drank some water and then tied her hair up in a ponytail. It was rope-climbing time! She wasn’t sure why she was eager to surprise Hunter by climbing her way to the top before his return. He would just scoff and say she used Clover to get up there. Halfway through was when she heard him returning. She felt heavier than before but wouldn’t let herself give up.

“Holy Titan, you actually did it!” he called out, grinning. He ran over to where her rope was secured into the ground. Sweat from her forehead dripped onto his forehead. “Well I don’t know what I expected,” he said to himself in a flat voice, and wiped his face with his cloak. “Guess what?” he shouted, walking closer to the campfire.

“W-what!” she gasped, pulling herself up the rope, one grab at a time. She could not let herself look down until she got to the top as she was starting to feel a bit woozy.

“It’s not pretty but my trap worked! We have meat!”

“GREAT!” she yelled. “Start cooking!”

Hunter, in fact, had not thought about the steps following catching the hogfox. When he saw it in the trap he was both thrilled and pained at the sight of seeing the trapped animal. He had captured plenty of wild witches in the past and has camped out with other Emperor Coven soldiers many times, being forced to eat whatever they could catch. But he was younger than everyone at these camps – he had never skinned any animal himself, only watched. It was almost the same with cooking, although, he did have some familiarity with a stove and oven.

He looked up at Willow, who was still slowly making her way up the rope. Clover was buzzing a few feet below her in case she lost her grip.

“How should I cook it?” he asked, not particularly at anyone, but Willow heard and she huffed.

“With,” she breathed, “the fire.”

“I know that,” he snapped, but she laughed, almost slipping.

At the same time Willow had been widdling her block of wood, so had Hunter been sharpening a small rock in case he actually did catch a small beast in his trap he would actually be able to do something about it.

Now that he had, it was time to get to work. Before setting up the trap, he and Willow had discussed in length what they would do with the animal, whatever kind it might end up being. They knew with hogfoxes it would be wise to save the fur, and no matter what kind of animal it was it would be very important to save some of the bones, for both practical use and magical. Should it have been a lizard-mole the scales would probably come in handy for creating some kind of armor for Willow, although, she insisted it wasn’t necessary, especially since it would take several lizard-moles to make the armor for the size she would have needed it to be. Most of the organs they wouldn’t be able to save since they would be moving on today or tomorrow.

Unfortunately, his skinning job was not looking too clean. There was just no way he could save the fur now, it just looked…it looked like a torn apart patchwork massacre. It was not pretty. He was glad he removed the layers of clothing from his torso (yes, even his armor, but don’t tell Willow!) before starting, but his pants were soaked in the mess. He looked up to see how far Willow had made it up the rope. She was about three quarters the way there. Okay, he could at least get the hogfox on the fire before she made her way back down.

Above their campfire, he and Willow had set up a pseudo-rotisserie, but it did not spin. To put it simply, it was just a sturdy branch being held up by a few other sturdier branches. If they were roasting anything on the rod, they would rotate it manually by picking it up and flipping it over. Willow was a phenomenal plant witch, decent at spell-weaving…but when it came to the mechanics of spell-engineering, well, neither of them were experts. “We can figure it out together!” she had said, and he liked that. They had found something that neither of them shared much talent in but it didn’t feel like a disadvantage.

A triumphant cheer sounded from above and Hunter looked up. He couldn’t see Willow anymore until her head peeped from above the branch and she waved.

He waved back, a little awkwardly after he poked the hogfox that was now set up on the fire.

“You should come up!” she shouted, motioning her arms like she was telling him to follow her.

“Are you insane?” he yelled back.

“Clover doesn’t mind!” she called out, moving out of view. Her palisman buzzed down to Hunter’s eye level and his face froze for a second, then he looked at his own staff with Flapjack, and clenched his fists uncomfortably. Flapjack might have been in staff form, but Hunter was unable to use him in order to fly since he shut down, so to speak. Flying with Clover almost felt like a betrayal, or abandonment.

“Are you coming or what?” Willow yelled, her voice echoing.

“Just give me a second, okay??” Hunter snapped again. Shoulders relaxing, he took a deep breath and then crawled over to where he had laid Flapjack in the tent after returning. Very close he whispered, “Be right back!” and then gently patted him on the head. Before getting up he got down a bit closer and whispered again, “I love you!” and quickly pecked him on the cheek. Clover buzzed over his shoulder in curiosity.

“I really will never have a moment of privacy, will I?” Hunter muttered, slightly embarrassed. “Clover?”

The palisman nodded. Hunter held out his hand and Clover transformed. “Let’s go find our Willow.”

--

Hunter landed on the large branch that was as wide as two small boats right by Willow’s head. She was lying down on her back with her eyes closed and he noticed her freshly calloused hands looked quite swollen. She looked up and grinned an “I-told-you-so” face, but her eyes immediately widened and she looked away, hoping her sweaty face hid the fact her cheeks suddenly got hotter.

Clover buzzed back to their normal self and then winked at Hunter. He blinked aggressively, face flushing. Aside from his trousers and boots, all of his clothes were on the ground still.

He sat down rather stiffly, after walking a couple of feet closer to the trunk of the tree. His eyes focused on the camp down below, where their supper was cooking. Sooner or later they would need to go back down to flip it over, right?

“Are you planning to climb back down?” he asked, refusing to change his gaze.

Clover buzzed more higher pitched than usual, crawling onto Willow’s stomach. “No, we can fly back down together! Unless you wanted to climb down?”

“No!”

Willow laughed, and then finally sat up, turning her body to face him. “I know you think it was silly for me to do something like climb a tree when I could just fly but—“

“It’s not silly; it’s impressive,” Hunter said in a flat tone, still focusing his gaze toward the ground.

Willow was quiet for a second, looking at his neutral expression. He looked tired. She scooched over and bumped his shoulder saying, “That means a lot. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled.

They stayed there for a few minutes in silence. Willow was still pretty sweaty and Hunter’s trousers definitely needed to be cleaned so she refrained from leaning on him. She sat only a couple inches between them and then laid down again. Hunter was cursing himself in his mind after he nearly let out a whine of disappointment upon realizing she had lain back instead of on his shoulder. He was gradually getting used to her getting up in his personal space all of the time and now, without her there, it felt like something was missing. Before they would try to sleep, they would sit and watch the fire until it would die down to a few embers. She would sit right next to him, with her hip touching his and sometimes even begin nodding off on his shoulder. It made him laugh, especially when she’d suddenly wake back up and deny it ever happening.

After the first night by the river, Willow made a separate pelt puff moss bed for him. They rebuilt the tent together, making it big enough to suit both of the moss beds she set up right next to one another. Despite the little space between them, almost every night she would end up rolling toward him in her sleep and hold onto him. Eventually, she’d roll back and wake up in the morning, completely unaware of her sleep-hugging tendencies. At least, he was pretty sure she was unaware. He had not said anything to her about it yet, mostly in fear of her lecturing him about not sleeping but it’s not like it’s his fault he can’t sleep! Another part of him didn’t want to tell her because he was afraid she might stop. Even if her sleep-hugging could cut off the circulation of his entire body, it didn’t bother him. He accepted his fate each time. Should it be death by the hugs of Willow Park, then so be it!

And so, trying to put that image out of his mind, he laid back into the same position she was in. He closed his eyes and just breathed.

Willow’s mind was on a moment that they had shared in her room at home on the Boiling Isles. Hunter had walked with her again for the third or fourth time after flyer derby practice and her Appa had answered the door. And then Papa was peeping through the window. They had insisted on inviting him in for dinner, despite her protest. She was glad that Hunter continued to walk her home but at that point they were still barely acquainted as teammates, much less friends. Hunter, when she had turned around to see how he felt about going inside, looked very uncomfortable.  Before he could make any excuses though, Willow caved to her father’s invitation and put her hand behind Hunter’s back to push him inside as welcoming as she could.

Dinner wasn’t ready yet so they went to her room, leaving the door open (her Papa insisted), and Hunter stood in the middle, immediately entranced by his surroundings. Willow was pretty sure he had never been inside a girl’s bedroom but from his expression she was wondering if he had been in any bedroom at all. Her room was fairly ordinary for any witch her age, aside from the extra plants and vines hanging around in corners and crawling on the walls. When Hunter smiled wide enough to reveal the gap in his teeth, she knew he was genuinely excited about something. He was gaping at her bookshelf, cocking his head to the side to read the titles off the spines, like he was trying to memorize each one.

“You can borrow some of my books if you want,” she had offered, and he jumped.

“Uh, that’s not necessary,” he had gulped, “I was just—I was just admiring your collection. I had no idea there were other witches that liked to read.”

Willow sat on her bed with a confused face. “I’m not sure how I am the one to break this to you, but a lot of witches like to read. I just collect mine because… well, I had a hard time visiting the library sometimes. My Appa will take me book shopping when I happen to know one I’m looking for.”

“The only books I’ve been able to read are from the castle library.”

“Not the public library?”

He shook his head. “It’s a… pretty limited selection. I’ve tried telling my uncle more about the books that could be of use there but he’s pretty strict.”

“Is he the castle librarian?”

“Not exactly. But the other coven heads are nice enough to occasionally sneak me copies of the ones I’m interested in. Do you—do you really mean it? That I can borrow some of your books?”

“Yeah! As long as you give them back at some point! I need them for school sometimes.”

“That won’t be a problem. I’m a pretty fast reader.”

“Mm, I don’t believe that at all.”

“Excuse me?” he had asked. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“You’re the slowest scroll-typist I know!”

“That’s different!” he had huffed.

Willow smiled at the memory and turned her head to look at Hunter. His eyes were closed.

“We probably should head back down, we don’t want the one side of our dinner to burn,” he said, without changing his facial expression. Willow jumped, not really expecting him to speak, but she nudged her way closer to him and whispered in response, “Let’s go!” and then he jumped, eyes shooting open.

“Come on, Hunter, keep up!” she said jokingly. The moment he jumped she reached for her palisman to fly down and immediately Clover transformed right into her hand. “Hop on!”

He gingerly placed one of his legs over the staff and—

“Hold on!”

Willow took off. Hunter yelped, not totally prepared for a sudden take-off. His arms wrapped around her instinctively and his face smooshed into her back, clasping as tightly as he could.

Willow was grateful to be lead flyer at that moment because in that moment her face was red as a tomato, feeling Hunters arms latch onto her. The ride was very quick and upon landing they immediately flipped the hogfox over so the other side could cook evenly. The second it was flipped, Hunter went over to put on his undershirt and then returned to the fire, sitting next to her. Gently, she poked his side. He gave her a stern glare of bafflement.

“It’s nice to see you vulnerable sometimes,” she said, gently poking him again.

Right. He did not put his armor back on.

“Thanks for taking care of the meal plan tonight.”

“I’m just glad I was able to catch something.”

“Me too,” she replied, and then placed her head on his shoulder. Hunter’s heart fluttered.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 – Titan(s)?

“Day seventeen.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Willow replied, not completely awake yet. “I know it’s too early for this kind of conversation but… why do you even bother counting at this point?”

Hunter remained on his back, looking up. “Because the Day of Unity, if I’m counting correctly and I know I am, is exactly five days from now.”

“Why does that matter when we’re here? I mean, I know it matters, because we have our friends and family back home, but there is absolutely nothing we can do while we are stuck here.”

“That might be true but what if we do find a way back—“

“I hope you mean when we find a way back.”

“When we find a way back, we want to be somewhat prepared, don’t we? But that’s beside the point, that’s not why I’m counting down the days.”

Hunter got up and looked down at Flapjack, who was still not back to his normal self. “If the Day of Unity passes and… and we’re still here and nothing has changed…”

“That would confirm Belos is a big fat liar.”

“You don’t know that! It could be that he miscalculated or that it didn’t go according to plan—“

“If Belos isn’t lying and the Day of Unity removes ALL of wild magic, then not only are Clover and Flapjack toast, but this forest may fall apart because it’s literally built out of wild magic!”

Hunter’s eyes watered. “That’s why I hope…. I hope he’s wrong.”

Willow sat up and put on her glasses to look at him.

“I don’t say this lightly,” he said softly, “but I hope… I hope he is the—the big fat liar you, the human, and the owl lady all think he is.”

Willow’s eyes widened, but not at Hunter.

“I’m afraid of what that will mean, though,” he said turning to her. “For me. What does that mean? Is he even my real uncle? How can I even ask that!”

Hunter’s head fell in his hands, utterly embarrassed at the idea.

“Hunter—“

“What!” he snapped, and a tiny chirp answered him. His breath suddenly escaped him and his knees felt weak.

Willow jumped up and Hunter collapsed in her arms.

“Flapjack?”

His palisman flapped his way up and gently nudged his cheeks, where tears were beginning to flood. Willow’s eyes were beginning to water as well and both of them couldn’t help their smiling and crying all at once.

“Come on, Clover, it’s a group hug!” she called to her own palisman, and Clover met her cheek as well.

“I missed you,” Hunter whispered.

--

Willow was happy to see Hunter and Flapjack reunited. She missed seeing him laugh especially since she was emotionally drained after the past couple of weeks, feeling she had to keep up a cheerful attitude just so Hunter would not bring her down. It’s not that she wasn’t upset by Flapjack’s statue-state, she was. But on top of that, she was worried about home. Yes, she knew she was better off not dwelling on the fact that the Day of Unity was approaching, but… she didn’t want to admit defeat. She didn’t want to admit that they might be stuck here permanently. How could she admit that to Hunter, let alone herself? Hunter had the habit of seeing the glass half-empty so she forced herself to see it half-full.

She didn’t mind spending time with him, even after learning he was the Golden Guard. From the very beginning of that day she knew he was capable of incredible things, if he could just have the patience to see things through and have a little faith in other witches besides himself.

The more she got to know him, however, she began to understand Luz’s description of him: a “bad but sad boy”. She didn’t know Belos was his uncle, but she did grow to understand his uncle was extremely controlling and manipulative, based on the rare instances Hunter would actually talk about it.

He was the best flyer on the Emerald Entrails without a doubt but he would flinch at any instance a player would pretend to fly into him and then redirect their flight path. If they lost a match he would his bow his head, practically kneeling before her and say something like “do what you feel is necessary, Captain, I know I was at fault for losing this one.” He would brag about how fun it was to join the Emperor’s Coven and then describe in length the tortuous orientation he had to survive before earning his place.

As a team they had gotten to know him for what kind of player he was, and gradually, who he was, but Willow knew more. Each time he would leave after walking her home or spend time with her outside of practice he would put on his Golden Guard mask, hide Flapjack under his cloak, and change his posture. She felt sorry for him, someone who believed in Belos and still felt the need to hide his true self from the Emperor, the Emperor he followed dutifully no matter what. The Emperor who promised great things would come to him.

She was afraid for when Flapjack was finally ready to share more information about the first Golden Guard. She was afraid of what they will learn. How many Golden Guards had there been, anyway? Hunter had said he never met his predecessor. She wasn’t sure how Hunter would react. He said he hopes that Belos is a big fat liar but she knows he doesn’t want to hear it out loud. Admitting Belos was wrong meant he was living a lie his entire life. Admitting Belos was wrong would mean admitting he was on the wrong side of things his entire life. It would mean he would have a hard time trusting in himself and that it would take a lot of time and effort to unlearn Belos’ teaching. For her as well, if she was being honest. She was raised to believe that every witch was to belong to a single coven and in the beginning that teaching made her feel lost and pathetic. She wasn’t good in the Abominations track at school, she liked doing other kinds of magic. What if plant magic didn’t have a coven in the first place? Would she be forced to live as an outlaw and outsider like Eda, the Owl Lady?

Not that she didn’t feel that way already in this endless forest with no other witches in sight.

“Willow, I have a thought.”

“Uh-oh,” she responded with some cheek in her voice.

“Belos can speak to the Titan, right?”

“So he claims.”

“Right,” he replied, and then stepped over the semi-sharpened bones they both had been working on since their last hogfox meal. “What if it wasn’t THE Titan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if there is more than one ‘Titan’?” he posed. “What if this place… is where titans come from?”

She looked at Flapjack, but with his tiny wings he simply shrugged. Without answering, she ran over to the river that had been dutifully following downstream (from a safe distance), hoping to reach an edge or endpoint. Hunter followed her curiously.

She leaned over the edge of the river bank as far as she could without losing her balance and focused her eyes on what was underneath the water.

“I’m looking for clues,” she said, knowing Hunter was staring at her, waiting.

“Clues of… titans?”

“Maybe, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” she stepped back and huffed. “Not out of the ordinary for this place, anyway.”

“It’s just a dumb theory.”

“No,” she corrected. “It’s not.”

“The only sign we have is enormous trees, it doesn’t mean that there would also be bigger beings. It’s a dumb theory.”

“It’s not, though. This forest is full of wild magic, and you know what witches believed before Belos’ reign, right?”

“That they were practicing wild magic and it was chaos.”

“That their wild magic came from the Titan!” she said with some enthusiasm, spreading out her arms.

Hunter face went a little pale.

“These trees aren’t…” his voice quivered, “they aren’t palistrom, are they?”

The forest suddenly felt more eerie than usual and Willow thought for a moment before answering.

“I’ve never seen uncarved palistrom wood before so I can’t be 100% certain but something tells me our little friends here would have warned us before starting our campfires.”

He let out a sigh of relief and Flapjack cooed reassuringly.

A small and empathetic smile crept on her face. She wondered if there were any palistrom trees in this forest because if so, that could mean a lot if they could bring back some to the Boiling Isles. Not just the wood, but the seeds, if possible, so they could begin replanting. It would be truly a dismal demon realm without the existence of palismen.

Out of the blue, Hunter grasped her wrist that was closest to him and she turned her head. The blush drained from her cheeks when she saw his graven expression. “Flapjack said he’s ready to tell us about the first Golden Guard… and…the real Belos.”

Willow nodded slowly, transferring her focus off of her musings and onto the present. Hunter’s hand on her wrist was a tight grip but it didn’t hurt. She twisted her arm a little and he let loose, a little panicked at the gesture he made without realizing. Instead of allowing him to pull away though, she took his hand, and squeezed it back, interlocking their fingers. Hunter’s shoulders loosened a small fraction, and they started walking back to the camp together in silence.

--

Reluctant to let go, Willow separated her hand from his to retrieve the mushrooms and other options for a meal they had collected the other day. She knew it would likely be unwise to listen to Flapjack’s recollections on their empty stomachs. Hunter rekindled their fire after gently placing Flapjack on his bed of moss.

“We’ll be ready soon, buddy,” he said, petting his small friend. “Just keeping you a safe distance from the flame and then we can all sit in the tent together.”

Flapjack let out a grumbled warble.

“I’m sorry, we just haven’t eaten anything today yet,” he laughed gently. “And as happy as I am for you to be back… I’m a little afraid of what you’re going to share. I promise I’m not trying to put you off though, I would never.”

Clover buzzed behind him in agreement.

After Willow finished cooking up something for both of them to eat, she brought it over in two of her small spell-thrown bowls and sat next to Hunter. Clover crawled over to sit on her knee.

“Before you begin, Flapjack,” Willow stated, “I need to make an announcement.”

Hunter’s face perplexed.

“No matter what you tell us, no matter what the truth is—you agree Hunter is a good palisman companion?”

Chirp!

“You agree he is a good friend?”

Chirp!

“You agree he is a good witch?”

Less enthusiastic chirp.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Hunter asked, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

“It means Flapjack has a good sense of humor,” she chuckled, “but also, I just wanted to remind you are all of those things, even if we find out Belos is a big fat liar,” and then quickly placed the gentlest peck on his forehead. “Okay Flapjack, we’re ready,” she said, and then grabbed Hunter’s stiff hand and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.”

Hunter nodded robotically and both of their eyes, as well as Clover’s, were on Flapjack.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 – Origins, Part II

Flapjack's story began with a human named Caleb Jasper Williams. In his attempt to fit into the Boiling Isles, he changed his last name to “Bloodwilliams” but that didn’t help much. He, along with his human friend Philip, stuck out like sore thumbs half the time. The cardinal did not know their complete history before their arrival to the Boiling Isles, but he did witness some of the tension that grew between them over his own existence among a few other things. Philip had a grudge against the magic that existed in the Boiling Isles but Caleb had a more innocent fascination for it. Caleb's curiosity is what led him to the creation of his palisman...but it took some time for him to get there.

When the humans had a somewhat wider understanding of where magic came from, Caleb was interested in finding ways for humans like themselves to use magic, wild magic. Philip was never exactly against this idea, (Caleb had insisted this to Flapjack much later), but his bias against witches grew strong alongside his desire for power and control.

After having been thrown out of quite a few towns, they made their way to a town that was well-known for the many tradesmen—er, tradeswitches?—and they settled on exploring the area. Caleb was delighted to discover a witch family that specialized in woodworking, particularly with palistrom wood. He had only read about it in one of the libraries he ended up getting banned from so did not recollect much, but he did remember reading that this it contained wild magic and it is where witches’ palismen came from.

When he entered the family shop, a young female witch greeted him and they became fast friends. She said that they have never carved a palisman for a human before but they also had never met any humans before! She was entranced and insisted he meet the rest of her family.

Every day in that town he would go to visit her and their family and over time, he began to grow more and more uncomfortable around his friend, Philip, who now had a deep hatred for witches, and was concocting a master plan to destroy their natural wild magic ways by setting up Covens, where witches could only use one type of magic, dependent on the Coven they chose (or that he would choose for them). By the time they had reached this town, he already had several plans in place to begin speaking in town-squares and scaring the local witches into thinking that “wild witches” were the cause of chaos and evil, and that only he could save them, as the Titan spoke to him and said so. Caleb agreed to help him with is endeavors, but he would wear a mask when they were both out. They both had masks. Philip called himself “Belos”, and decided Caleb could be his “Golden Guard”.

Caleb felt guilty each time he would play along, particularly when he was at the woodworking family’s dinner table. They didn’t know who he really was. Getting to know them, however, gave Caleb some hope to convince Belos that witches were not as bad as he claimed, that wild magic, was not as evil or destructive as he preached.

One day, Elizalyn, (that was the young witch’s name he had come to know), threw her arms around him when he entered their shop. He was taken aback but also nervously thrilled. He had come to like spending time with her a lot.

“Caleb,” she sing-songed, “last night, my father told me you’re ready! It’s time to carve your own palisman!”

Caleb was floored. He had asked on the first day they had met if that it was a possibility for a human to have a palisman but he never wanted to push the subject too far, afraid they would find him suspicious of some kind of malice towards them. Most witches he had come to meet were very protective of their palismen.

Elizalyn continued to dance around the shop excitedly. “You might not be a witch, but you’re definitely one at heart,” she winked, and then kissed his cheek. “I’m almost certain that with your own palisman, treating it with tender love and care, the Titan will definitely grant you the ability to really become one of us.”

A stab of guilt staggered him a bit, but a new thought sprung just as quickly. If a palismen could grant him power, surely Philip would be able to see the good in that!

Entering the workshop felt like walking on sacred ground. Elizalyn took his hand and brought him to the table where she had already set up the block of wood. Her parents were out in the marketplace. “Are you ready?” she asked, eyes sparkling.

“I—I don’t know,” he said honestly, with his heart beating a little faster.

“Don’t fret so much,” she replied softly. “You can take all of the time you need.”

“Do you—do you mind if I carved him, alone?” he winced, unsure of how she would react.

“No, of course!” she jumped, feeling a little embarrassed she had been standing only inches away from him. “It’s a personal thing, I understand. I will be in the front of the shop, just holler if you need anything!”

And then he was alone. Well, not for too long. “Would it be a sin if I made a reminder of home?” he asked out loud. He knew it didn’t matter to ask as he had already thought for a long time what kind of palisman he felt made sense to be his companion, should he ever be able to carve one of his own.

A red cardinal. He wasn’t perfect-looking but he was perfect. He had carved his own palisman out of the palistrom wood and sat there admiring his work for a few minutes before thinking perhaps he should could call for Elizalyn. This small bird was his own reminder of where he had come from, from a nest he used to watch that was in his neighbor's yard every morning. Occasionally he'd approach the nest and offer parts of his breakfast and they would nibble right off his hand. He had not seen any kind of bird like a cardinal since his time on the Boiling Isles so it felt like the right choice.

But his new companion had not come to life and while he as read a great deal on the subject now and has learned so much from Elizalyn and her family… he didn’t know how that part worked.

She returned with a huge grin on her face. “He’s beautiful, Caleb!”

“Thank you, that means a great deal coming from you,” he replied, fiddling with his thumbs.

She smirked. “You’re confused why he isn’t chirping and flapping around, aren’t you?”

“I mean… I was going to ask, eventually—“

“Don’t worry,” she laughed. “I’ll show you.”

She walked up behind him and took one his hands, placing a small carving tool in one of them. She held his grasp on it and then traced a circle with a few intricate lines inside, on the bottom of the cardinal’s feet. A glyph! She knew about glyphs! Were palismen.. was the secret to palismen wild magic glyphs?

“Now,” she said, releasing her grip, “It’s time for you to do the spell.”

Caleb’s eyes widened at her, and then looked back on the small, sweet bird. He took a deep breath and picked up his carved creature. With a gentle tap of his index finger on the glyph, it glowed, and the little one came to life.

Caleb was entranced. “He’s real, he’s real! He’s alive!” he shouted, jumping up and down.

“And what’s his name?” Elizalyn asked, almost equally as excited as he was.

“Flapjack,” he said with a grin, looking at the little bird with love in his eyes. Flapjack chirped in reply.

“Looks like he’s okay with it,” Elizalyn said, smiling.

In one dramatic swoop, Caleb turned to face her, eyes meeting eyes, he reached for her face and kissed her, but pulled back immediately in fear of regret. “Are you—were you okay with that?” he asked, still holding her face.

Flapjack chirped curiously.

Elizalyn blushed a red almost as dark as Flapjack’s feathers. “Only if you tell me what a 'Flapjack' is,” she replied, looking directly into his eyes that were clearly worried he had overstepped.

His eyes watered and he began to laugh. They were both in a fit of hysterics when Elizalyn’s parents came back from a long day at the market.

“And what’s this?” her father boomed, as he walked through the door.

“Oh, it’s just Caleb has asked me to marry him,” Elizalyn answered, giggling, not daring too look at Caleb’s shocked face.

“I—I—um, sir, well, that’s not exactly—“

“Well we were wondering when that was going to happen, so what date have you set?” her mother said, unphased, as she walked towards the kitchen.

Caleb sputtered, completely unable to respond.

“Are you even going to ask what my answer was?” Elizalyn demanded, a little distraught there was no surprise in their reaction.

The freshly born palisman warbled in confusion, and then Elizalyn’s father bellowed in laughter. He patted Caleb on the back, congratulated him on his newfound friend, and then squinted at Elizalyn.

“Okay, fine, he didn’t ask me—“ she started a bit sheepishly, but Caleb cut her off in a small voice, “Will you?” and this time, it was Elizalyn’s turn to sputter in response.

“Well, give the boy an answer already!” they heard her mother shout from the other room.

Elizalyn looked at Caleb’s flushed face, clearly regretting his decision to ask, but it was her fault, she played the prank in the first place. “I’m sorry—“

“I didn’t really plan it this way, obviously—but then you just—“

“Wait,” she stopped, putting her hands on his shoulders. “What do you mean you didn’t ‘plan it’ this way?”

“I—I thought I could—I wanted to—just not now and—“

“You weren’t joking?”

“No,” he finally said, sternly, tired of his stuttering getting in the way. “From the first day I met you, Elizalyn, I knew that I couldn’t spend another day without you. You helped me fall in love with the Boiling Isles, with wild magic… and just… and then… you. I fell in love with you, I couldn’t stop seeing you, even if I was never able to do any magic myself, I just—“

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, I will marry you.”

He blinked, and their locked eyes began to water, and they began to fall into a spastic state of giggling again, hugging and laughing, utterly baffled at themselves and their engagement.

--

Flapjack recounted this part of the story with great endearment. He had only barely existed and he was able to witness genuine love in his first hour of living.

Hunter and Willow, however, were too focused on the fact that Belos was human. The first Golden Guard: a human. At the same time, Hunter’s heart swelled with some pride for his predecessor. Based on Flapjack’s description, he seemed to have a lot in common with him. All the same, they grew wary of how this story was going to end.

--

The little cardinal’s demeanor changed when he began recounting the next part of the story, and the two witches huddled a little more closer together with the other palisman in between them.

Caleb, after having dinner with his new fiancée and future in-laws, needed to have a more serious conversation with Elizalyn before he approached Belos with the news. He needed to tell her the truth. The whole truth.

She agreed to go for a walk with him and, in his astonishment, she didn’t try to immediately kick him out of town. Instead, her face grew more solemn and she asked if they could sit down to continue their conversation.

“It is an odd thing,” she said after thinking for a bit, “to find out you are the so-called ‘Golden Guard’ of that Belos guy. Someone who is so against wild magic… but who is really living the lie—Caleb or the Golden Guard?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re living a double-life. If we get married, that must come to an end.”

“I know it must, that’s why I wanted to talk about this before I proposed but then—“

“So who would I be marrying? Caleb? Or the Golden Guard?”

He was silent for a moment, and Flapjack looked up at him, staring at him curiously.

“I’ve always been Caleb,” he started slowly, “but the Golden Guard? It’s just a mask. Just like Belos is just a mask for Philip. It’s not who we really are.”

“So?”

“So you would be marrying Caleb. The Golden Guard would be no more.”

Elizalyn wanted to respond by kissing him once again but he answered in an unusually lowered monotone voice. “Belos is your friend and you don’t want to betray him.”

“I—“

“But in a sense, you already have, at least, to him. You have your own palisman now, your own piece of wild magic.”

“That’s true! I could change his mind about wild—“

“Stop right there,” she commanded, putting her finger to his lips. Caleb obeyed, allowing his excitement to die once again. “I don’t think that is something you can do just willy-nilly. You cannot put little Flapjack in danger. I can’t tell you to abandon Belos, but you and I know what he is doing is wrong. Right?”

Caleb nodded, and bit his lip, looking regretfully at Flapjack. He brought him into existence only to now worry for his immediate safety. If he were to tell Belos about him he would need to do it with Flapjack being present. He couldn’t risk him being there. Would he really start by telling him he was marrying a witch?

“I… I need some time to figure out how to tell him the news. Of us, of the palisman…”

“I think that’s wise,” she said mournfully. “I want to tell the world, all across the Boiling Isles, that I snagged the one good human,” she smirked, “but alas… his evil twin brother holds his life in his hands so we mustn’t do anything to jeopardize our love!” she sang, falling dramatically into his lap.

“He’s not my brother,” Caleb laughed, “but he might as well be. I’m… I’m grateful to have you by my side.” Caleb took her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers.

“Oh that’s what I’m missing—no elaborate jewelry, hm? Don’t humans seal marriage with fancy jewels or is that an old witch’s tale?”

Caleb laughed again and leaned down to kiss her with a little more fervor than before. “I don’t have anything like that but I could work on it.”

They sat there together without saying anything for a few minutes.

“How long would it take for you to gain Belos’ approval of…us?”

He looked at her, perplexed. “I don’t need his approval to get married, I’m just… I’m worried about his reaction. I’m afraid his bias against witches will prevent him from even being happy for me… for us. I’m afraid he will not take me leaving his side very lightly.”

“What if we eloped? That way, there would be no way he could try to stop us! The deed will have already been done,” she winked and then cackled.

“That would be true,” he said, face a little flushed. “But he is expecting me back soon, it’s getting late.”

Flapjack warbled with a smidge of worry.

“I—“ he almost choked.

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of him and you will see each other tomorrow. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Caleb nodded solemnly. They both stood up and before they parted ways, he leaned in to allow their foreheads to touch. “I promise I will never let Belos hurt you. Either of you.”

--

Walking back to the cave just outside of town where he and Belos were living for the time being gave him some time to think. He already felt her absence ache in his side, and his palisman—

Chirp!

Caleb stopped in his tracks and then slowly turned his head.

“Flapjack! You were supposed to stay with Elizalyn!” His brows furrowed as his eyes kept getting wider with anxiety. He was already more than halfway to the cave, he couldn’t just turn around—Belos was expecting for him to return by a certain time. He would get suspicious if he arrived late, he was always getting more paranoid by the day.

“Okay, listen up. If you are insisting on staying by my side as you are, that’s exactly what you must do, okay? You can hide behind my back under my cape. You can rest in my cape when we sleep. But, under no circumstances, must you tweet a single note. Is that clear?”

The baby palisman nodded with apologetic eyes.

“Look,” he said in a bit of exasperation, “I am sorry to talk to you this way. I just… Belos… he has this thing for certain wild magic and… I’m worried. I don’t want you to fall into his hands.”

Flapjack nodded again without chirping a word, and then fluttered to his side, latching onto his belt.

“Good idea, you can fit pretty snug right there,” he said with a half-smile, and he patted him gently on the head. “I promise I will take care of you, okay?”

Flapjack rubbed his cheek affectionately at his side in response.

Caleb let his arms to his side, keeping his new friend hidden from sight.

“I can do this. We can do this.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 – Origins Part III

“Um, Flapjack?” Willow interrupted, noticing Hunter’s body tensing up more than usual. “Maybe we should take a break?”

“I—I can’t believe—I, I mean he—it was never real. He just… he’s just some old human who hates witches but for what? Why did—why did he think making covens was going to help anyway? I just—I just don’t understand.”

The little cardinal chirped softly, looking down.

Willow nodded, and placed her hand on his back. “I think we should look at some of the positive things before we listen to the rest, is that okay?”

“What positive things?”

“Well, we know the name ‘Caleb’ came from a human that found the good in wild magic. I think you share a few things in common. He even fell in love with a witch!”

Hunter’s face flushed and he did his best avoid eye contact with her. “He still helped spread lies for Belos, which is all I have ever done.”

Willow winced.

“And so far, I don’t see any proof that Belos is my uncle. Where did I even come from? How did I really become the next Golden Guard?”

Flapjack shuddered.

“What? What is it? What do you know?” he persisted, raising his voice a little higher.

“We can’t push him, Hunter.”

“I know,” he slumped, head down.

--

Flapjack's story, continued: 

“So? How did he take it?”

Flapjack chirped.

“Don’t think you’re getting off easy, Mister,” Elizalyn said, wagging her finger at the little palisman. “I am still disappointed in you for running off like that.”

“You shouldn’t be too hard on him,” Caleb said, placing him on his shoulder. He fluttered his wings which tickled his neck and Caleb let out a short giggle.

Elizalyn crossed her arms in a small huff.

“I will admit—I hardly slept at all last night. Flapjack agreed to keep as quiet as possible and I was able to hide him in my cloak. Philip—err—Belos, he was not in a pleasant mood when I returned. Thankfully I think whatever happened to him yesterday kept him distracted. He was rather annoyed I was not there with him for his latest town ‘sermon’ about sigils and covens, though—I’m not sure how many more excuses I can come up with for the days I am not there by his side.”

“Excuses?”

“Yes, excuses. I could never tell him I was having a cordial dinner with a family of witches almost every night… a family of wild witches,” he said. “I mean, I may have been honest once, but he would never accept—“

“What has he—what did you even have against witches and wild magic in the first place?”

“Well, it’s dangerous.”

“So are humans, clearly.”

“Yes, and I see that now,” he explained, “but for Belos… it’s more than personal for him. His whole life he’s been bullied—by his parents, by his classmates, a-and then when we came into the demon realm—“

“Let me guess, he was bullied then, too?”

“Well, yes. We humans don’t exactly fit in here.”

“You were able to fit in just fine with us.”

“Yes,” he said again, rubbing the back of his neck, and shared a small smile. “I was. And I’m grateful.”

“Were you bullied in the human realm?”

“I’m a little embarrassed to say it but, yes. Philip took me under his wing, so to speak. There were others who were picking on me for my size and Philip stood up for me, he was familiar with those hecklers. It was a bit conniving, but his half-empty threat scared them off. Ever since then, we would do everything together. In our town at the time there was a growing concern for the practice of witchcraft—very frowned upon in the human realm—he threatened to tell the town their mothers were witches.”

“What would have happened if he followed through?”

“He has always been clever, most of the adults would always take his word over any of their own children. If he claimed their mothers were witches, they’d most likely believe him.”

“Why wouldn’t they claim the same about his parents?”

“He hated his parents; it wouldn’t have mattered to him if they were burned at the stake,” he shrugged uncomfortably, “and I know I was younger back then but my parents were already gone at that point.”

“Burned?” Her and Flapjack’s eyes widened. “Have you—have you—have you killed witches, Caleb?”

Caleb gulped. Elizalyn’s hands moved closer to her chest and she took a couple of steps back from him. “You never mentioned this before, even when you were telling me everything yesterday. It wasn’t everything, was it?”

He wanted to embrace her and reassure her everything was going to be all right but even Flapjack fluttered over to her shoulder. He was standing alone.

“There were many truths I was holding back, Elizalyn. I shared the same belief system that Belos continues to hold for a long time and gradually, that system fell apart from me, especially after getting to know you and the other witches in this village—but I could not break apart from Belos. I had to stick around, I was—I am afraid of what he has been turning into, without me he may never return to who he was.”

His fiancée did not change her expression. “He may have been bullied his entire life but that’s not a justifiable excuse for what he’s doing,” she said darkly, “or what you’re doing.”

“I have watched Belos commit countless crimes. I have no excuse but my own ignorance for standing by his side through all of it, but I have never killed a witch, human, or demon,” he held his head low, and dropped to his knees. “You have every right to take Flapjack from me. I know he would be safe in your hands. You have every right to break off our engagement. There is still so much that Belos hides from me but I still have known enough for a long time his pursuits do not hold noble intention and for that, I am deeply sorry.”

Flapjack flapped his way down to the ground to look up at his companion as he wept.

Elizalyn hugged her arms and closed her eyes. “I believe you,” she answered, “and it will take me some time to forgive you completely.”

He looked up, meeting her eyes. She bit her lip. “But for us to continue, you can’t wait around for Belos to change.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Flapjack won’t abandon you, that’s just how palismen are. You cannot go back.”

“But how would he—what kind of excuse would I—“

“We’re getting married today.”

Caleb shot up from his knees and cautiously took her hands in his, but could barely get any words out. His face looked like it could not decide whether to laugh or cry. “Y-you—“ he sputtered, “you don’t want to break it off?”

“Listen, I still haven’t forgiven you completely for your crimes,” she said sternly, “but I know I will. In time.”

He wiped some of the tears from his face.

“They may not be understanding at first, but we need to tell my parents the truth as well, if this is going to work.”

“If what will work, exactly?”

“We need to stop Belos, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I—“

“My parents have never felt fondly of the lunatic and we can’t go against him alone. We need to get married now so we can figure out the plan together.”

“They wouldn’t throw me out of the house?”

“Not if we’re married,” she emphasized, with a small smile curling her lips. “Because with that, they will know you are serious and not just playing some game. My parents take marriage very seriously, I don’t know if you could tell!”

Caleb let out a small, nervous laugh, but he nodded. “Okay,” he conceded. “How… do witches here, get married?”

Elizalyn smiled warily. “All we need is a witch that practices oracle magic and,” she turned to look down at Flapjack, “a witness.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 – Taking a Break

“I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting such a romantic story,” Willow said as she got up to retrieve the tea she had brewing over the fire that had died down.

Flapjack tweeted a positive note.

“Yeah,” Hunter responded. “Neither did I.” He looked up at Willow who had just handed him a cup of the tea. “It gives you some hope, doesn’t it?” she asked in an out-of-place upbeat tone, sitting down on the log closest to their tent to face him.

“Not really? Belos is still in the Boiling Isles. What good did it do for Caleb to marry Elizalyn if that didn’t change?”

“I was kind of joking.” She blew on her tea to cool it down a little.

“Oh.” He stared at the steam rising from his tea, and then looked at Flapjack's single scar across his left eye.

“I know Flapjack has a lot more to tell, but did you want to take a break and actually talk about it?”

Hunter was quiet for a moment, and then he let out a small laugh.

Willow sipped on her tea and stared at the embers left from the fire, and the reflection glinted a bit in her glasses. Hunter didn’t explain what he was thinking about until he got up and sat next to Willow on the log.

“Well?” Willow said, putting her tea down.

“I wanted share something stupid I was thinking about. I just think it’s funny, given our situation.”

“I’m listening.”

Hunter eyed the two palismen a little nervously, but he was still forcing a smile. “I don’t want to leave Flapjack for a second but I also don’t want him to hear what I was thinking about.”

Flapjack chirped in response.

“And that’s exactly why—you know what, forget it. I shouldn’t even bother—“

“Please tell me,” Willow said, putting her hand on his knee. “We’re out here by ourselves, who cares if Flapjack or Clover even hears our darkest secrets? That’s why they are our companions, our palismen. Besides, I don’t want secrets to develop between us, not even over something stupid.”

Her earnest smile at him had him frozen. He tried to get up so their legs weren’t touching but they were like solid rocks.

Her hand left his knee when she reached to pick up her tea again and her smile faded.

“It’s not funny, not really,” he managed to say quietly. “But I was thinking about the Day of Unity again. A part of me still hopes that at least something happens. I don’t want it to be bad, but the thing is, I still don’t really understand what it’s for or all about. I thought I did, but I don’t.”

“I know what you mean. It’s okay to have those feelings, Hunter.”

He swallowed. Hearing her say his name still made his face flush.

“It’s been a lot to take in so I’ve been trying to think about something else so,” Willow said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “may I have a turn at sharing something stupid that I’ve been thinking about?”

“You have stupid thoughts?”

She rolled her eyes but still laughed. “Sometimes. Are you ready to hear them?”

“I’m at your mercy, Captain.”

Now it was Willow who blushed, but she did her best to ignore it. “Whenever we get to where this river leads us—and if we—if we don’t find any answers I don’t-want-us-to-part-ways.”

Hunter blinked, taken aback by her mind wandering so far ahead. They had been traveling downstream in hopes of finding the edge of this forest…maybe they’d find the Boiling Sea or at least a larger body of water. Anything other than this endless forest, really. The hope was that maybe they’d see the Boiling Isles in the far distance but it was a slim chance. He didn’t mean to think so pessimistically but with his luck? Pfft.

 His mind was reeling though, at her statement.

“We were going to part ways?”

“See, this is why I said sometimes I have stupid thoughts!” she said in a little bit of a higher voice. She raised her tea to her lips, avoiding his gaze.

Hunter’s shoulders relaxed but he still felt tense. Of course he didn’t like the idea of coming to the end of the river to find out nothing that could help them but it didn’t cross his mind that they would…separate.

“You’re right, it was a stupid thought,” he agreed, cautiously imitating her gesture from before, placing his hand on her knee. The gesture turned into a couple of pats and he returned his hand quickly. “Where did it even come from?”

“I figured whenever we reach the end of this river we probably won’t find the answers we’re looking for. I hope we do find some answers but it’s difficult to hold that kind of optimism right now,” she sighed. “When that happens you’d come to the conclusion that you’re better off without Half-a-Witch-Willow and then I’d be alone. Again.”

Hunter’s body jerked slightly at hearing that phrase but then his face contorted in confusion. “Again? When I tried to take you and the team to the Emperor’s Coven or—“

“No, I wasn’t even thinking of you when I said that. It’s why it was stupid. Good point, though.”

At this point, Hunter put down his tea and his hands tightened into fists. Was he setting himself up? Was she trying to trick him into saying something more stupid?

“Can you please just explain what you’re talking about?”

She tugged on her hair, biting her lip. “I never really told you about what Hexside was like for me before Luz arrived, did I?”

Hunter thought for a moment, unsure how this could be related to what she was talking about in the first place. He did remember Gus occasionally threatening him to not ruin things for her because she’s had a rough year, or something like that—but when they’d spend time together outside of flyer derby practice they would mostly talk about what she was studying in school or what he had read in the latest book that she had borrowed for him from the school’s library. She didn’t share that much about her friendship with Luz or Gus, or anyone else for that matter.

“Amity, Luz’s girlfriend—she, well, we used to be best friends.”

“The youngest Blight?”

“Yes. You weren’t so nice to her when she was looking for Titan’s blood for Luz, if you remember.”

“I tried to warn them about the Fool’s Blood but they didn’t believe me!”

“And then she felt sorry for you so she let you keep the key.”

“She didn’t let—what do you mean let me keep the key?”

Willow blinked and let out a small chuckle. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, but she was able to save some of the Titan’s blood that leaked out of the key on her glove—so, she let you go. Isn’t that what happened?”

“I wouldn’t say she let me go, but—“

“She felt sorry for you. If you didn’t have anything to bring back to Emperor Belos, she said—well, she described how you were already digging your own grave.”

“I—no, you’re right,” he sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. “I’m not sure what Uncle would have done if I returned completely empty-handed.”

Willow placed her hand on his back and rubbed it gently.

“Anyway,” she continued, “Amity and I used to be best friends—until we weren’t. At the time, I really thought she just hated me for who and what I was. Even now it still hurts thinking about it sometimes. This year, she finally shared the truth about why she stopped being friends with me. Her parents—you know her parents, right?”

“The Blights? Yeah,” he scoffed.

“They didn’t like their most prodigal daughter hanging out with a witch who could barely handle doing a single spell circle. I was uh, late bloomer, so to speak,” she laughed, but then winced. “Her parents threatened to get me expelled or something like that if she continued to be seen with me. She wasn’t even allowed to tell me why.”

“For how long?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long ago did she stop being your friend?”

“I—I must have been about eight years old? Or seven? The memories are still a little foggy, even after she and Luz were in my mindscape.”

“They—I’m sorry—what?”

“It still never excused Amity for befriending the bullies of our class. That’s what really felt like betrayal. She was my best friend and then she abandoned me for the kids in our class that bullied me.”

Hunter was staring at her, mind-blown at the fact the human and Amity were inside Willow’s mind. That is not only dangerous, but it’s not an easy thing to do.

“So,” she said tugging on her hair again, “what I am trying to help you understand is that I’m afraid that you’ll leave, like Amity did. Or that you’d become my enemy, like Amity did. I mean, you sort of did do that when you tricked us and got us kidnapped—“

“I went back to save you!”

“Why did you do that, anyway?”

Flapjack suddenly flapped his way into Hunter’s lap and chirped at Willow.

“I see,” she said, smiling gently. “It is surprising you have a soft spot for palismen, but after hearing about Caleb… well, I don’t know. Maybe not.”

Hunter’s face flushed and Flapjack nodded at him. He nudged himself a little bit closer to Willow, unsure of how to express how he felt. He knew what to say but he didn’t know how to show it.

“Well, e-excuse me, for presuming we’d stick together until we find our way back to the Boiling Isles,” he said in a bit of a stiff voice and then coughed, “Not that things would just go back to normal after returning, I just—“

“Thank you for saying so,” she said quietly, and put her hand on his knee again. “If you could just remind me every once and a while, I’d appreciate it?”

Hunter nodded and Flapjack switched to settling into his lap, looking up at him with a slightly smug grin. Willow leaned her head on Hunter’s shoulder and moved her hand from his knee to hold his hand.

“Anything for you, Captain.”

Chapter Text

Origins, Part IV

Flapjack’s story, continued:

After picking out a few acceptable feathers and flowers to decorate her bright naturally red hair, Elizalyn took Caleb’s hand in hers and they walked into town. They managed to find one of the oracle demons that Belos had not convinced yet to bind themselves with a sigil (since somehow he managed to convince all of the oracle witches already). The demon was wary of the fact Caleb was human and at first was uncertain as to accept their request. Ignoring his hesitation, the oracle demon took each of their hands clasping them together in between his and immediately began marriage binding ceremony with Flapjack and Elizalyn’s palisman as their witnesses. His wariness vanished during the ceremony as his multiple sets of eyes began to see what was between them and their possible futures.

Meanwhile, Belos was in town earlier than he originally planned to set up his space for his usual preaching against wild magic. He selected an area that was clearly unconvinced, which was mostly inhabited by demons that practiced potions and oracle magic. He had been grumbling the entire morning because Caleb had left uncharacteristically early, before they even had a chance to discuss his plan of action for the day. He understood he wasn’t a child anymore but surely he could be mature enough to not act like one.

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

Hunter flinched. He was only sixteen and he had heard Belos repeat that to him more than once. His heart started racing, trying to understand how Flapjack could have known Belos was there—that could only mean—

“Breathe,” Willow ordered, and then reached for his hands which were clenched into fists. “You are not there; you are here with me right now.”

His hands relaxed only slightly and his eyes met hers and he finally let out the breath he did not realize he had been holding. Her focused gaze changed to the scar on his cheek and above his eye, and then the nick in his ear. “He can’t hurt you here,” she said a little under her breath, and then sat back down beside him, looking at Flapjack, noticing the scar over his eye as well.

“Keep going.”

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

“Flapjack, stop, it tickles!” Caleb giggled, “Not you too, Grackles!” The two palismen ignored his pleas until Elizalyn swooped in with both of her hands grabbing hold of his face. They flapped away from his shoulder and nested in her hair. His giggles came to a stop when her lips met his, but they could not stop themselves from grinning as they walked out the door.

“Congratulations you two,” the oracle demon smiled. “It’s been a while since I joined a pair that was truly meant to be.”

“And what does that mean, pray tell?”

A large shadow cast over the doorway and Grackles cawed a warning that fell flat on the newlywed’s drained faces.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice.”

“Phi—err, Belos,” Caleb’s voice cracked.

“This is the pathetic excuse,” he glared at Elizalyn (who sneered back), “you conveniently forgot to mention before leaving this morning?”

The oracle demon standing behind them by the door backed up to return inside. Belos’ eyes darted to the sign above the door as it shut and Caleb locked Elizalyn’s hand in his. He stood firm and the color returned to his face.

Belos’ jaw fell slightly as his eye twitched. His fist tightened around his own staff, the staff that he and Caleb had worked on together to create to channel artificial magic. He glowered at them.

“Let’s just go,” Elizalyn whispered. “He can process this information later without staring at us like we’re a couple of piles of fairy-slug slime.”

Caleb’s eyes met his mentor’s. He searched for any sign that the Philip he used to know was left.

Grackles cawed again and Flapjack flapped his way out of Elizalyn’s hair to sit on Caleb’s shoulder.

Seeing the palisman igniting a rage within Belos that had been festered inside him for a long time.

“That’s it—“ Belos scowled, and raised his staff to strike he former friend but in a small burst of energy the little palisman jumped off Caleb’s shoulder and took the blow.

“Flapjack!” Caleb cried, but Elizalyn grabbed him by his sleeves, “Come on, Caleb!” His eyes watered when he received a small coo in reply but his fluttering stilled in his hands. One of his precious eyes that he had carved himself was now gone. Caleb raised his head painfully to look at Belos one more time for any sign of remorse.

Disgust. Belos’ was disgusted and all Caleb could feel was betrayed and ashamed. Elizalyn tugged on him harder and Grackles quickly transformed into her staff. Caleb jumped on behind her—one arm around her waist and the other to hold his loyal friend.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered into his wife’s back. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too, love,” Elizalyn said as consolingly as she could, but a part of her felt disgusted as well. She could still barely grasp the idea of her husband being more than associated with a man made of so much malice but feeling his sobs soaking her backside, she knew it was already time to forgive him. She couldn’t waste their marriage by guilting Caleb any further. They were married now. They were meant to be united! She was determined about that and despite their somber start, she smiled.

Flapjack could see below them that Belos had gotten up to watch them leave. He shuddered upon seeing his hollow expression and nestled a little deeper into Caleb’s palm. He did not want to imagine what would happen when they crossed paths again.

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

Hunter couldn’t help but weep. He would ordinarily feel embarrassed at showing this kind of weakness but even Willow had her hand covering her mouth upon hearing the romantic tragedy.  She cradled Flapjack her hands and Clover nuzzled closely.

“Why did you even come back?” Hunter blubbered. “You knew I was the next Golden Guard, why would you pick me, after, after—“

Flapjack shook his head and cooed in a low tone.

Both Willow and Hunter suddenly felt stiff with hairs standing on end as they looked at one another.

“How…old are you, Flapjack?” Willow asked.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 – Origins, Part V

Flapjack’s story, continued:

Encountering Belos after eloping forced Elizalyn to explain their situation to her parents in a bit of a rush. It wouldn’t be long before Belos would figure out where they would run off to. Both of them wanted to believe that he would simply leave them be but after witnessing Belos strike a palisman like that—intending to assault Caleb… they really could not take the risk to stick around for long. They needed more time.

Caleb tried to convince in new in-laws to go with them, insisting that Belos’ fear of wild magic has only increased his aptitude for violence—that he might seek out palisman carvers explicitly—to do whatever it took to speed up his plan of destroying wild magic. They could not be convinced to run, however.

He could see some of the scorn behind their eyes, and mixed emotions. Flapjack insisted later that they really did love him as their son-in-law but trying to absorb all of the information about he and Belos was too much for them to process all at once.

“Start your family somewhere safe, my boy,” Elizalyn’s father said, “and we will send word when we believe it is safe to return.”

“We’re tougher than you think,” her mother added, handing him a basket of food, savings, and other supplies. Her eyes glistened when she turned to look at her daughter. “Take these too, in case—in case—“

Elizalyn looked down at what her mother dropped in her hands. It was a handful of palistrom seeds.

“In case you don’t find an orchard close by and you want to follow the family tradition,” her father finished. “It doesn’t mean you cannot return to work here but imagine if we expanded to two locations, huh?”

Everyone willed themselves to smile at his attempt to make the situation a little bit more light-hearted. It was a beautiful dream he described. At least, Caleb thought so. Standing there with all of them he felt as though he finally found a place where he belonged, where he didn’t have to prove himself to find a purpose.

“I promise we will return,” Caleb said, switching his gaze to Elizalyn. “And when we do, we’ll be ready.”

--

Caleb and Elizalyn found a place to settle down after hiding out in the local inn. The town was called Bonesborough. It was one of the few places that Caleb and Belos had yet to visit, reason being it was one of the more dangerous areas of the Boiling Isles. They had deemed it a place too far gone under wild magic, as it was particularly close to the head of the main island. Elizalyn at first suggested they go somewhere Belos had already been to, as perhaps he may never return to somewhere he was thrown out but Caleb reminded her he was thrown out with him. He wouldn’t be welcomed either.

Elizalyn agreed to find work in the town while Caleb spent most of his days strategizing and tending to their small garden behind their house. They knew it was a big risk for Caleb to be seen, at least until Elizalyn could find a witch who specialized in illusions.

Six months had passed and they had yet to hear of any news from Elizalyn’s parents.

“Caleb, we need to reach out to them,” she said while they were eating together one night. “I need to know they are safe. I’ve been hearing… rumors, all over town. I have a feeling that Belos is close.”

His brow furrowed. “If that’s true, we need to keep remaining low. Perhaps you should ask for some time off. You have a good enough excuse, you wouldn’t even have to lie.”

“That’s exactly why I want to reach out. I’m…I’m scared.”

Grackles landed gently on her shoulder and rubbed his head against her cheek. She placed both of her hands on her belly and rubbed it softly. “I need her guidance.”

“You will be a wonderful mother,” Caleb said, walking over to her. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her belly, and then her lips but Elizalyn continued to frown. “I want them here, Caleb.” She met his eyes. “What will we do without them if Belos finds us? Who will watch over our little one when we inevitably go up against—I’m not saying we’re not strong enough but you know he’s clever and he could—“

“I know,” he grimaced.

“What if he already got to them?” she whispered.

Grackles clucked at her sharply and her eyes widened, still locked with Caleb’s.

“If Grackles leaves to give word to them about our whereabouts or any other information, there is still a risk. Belos knows what both of our palismen look like.”

Elizalyn’s eyes glazed over, lost in her anxiety. Caleb hated making her feel more distraught. He was worried about being a parent too; he barely had any experience of having his own parents in the first place. He wished he could go back in time and ask his own father for advice.

“We need to weigh our options,” he said, standing up a bit straighter. “There are rumors Belos is already close by; he may find us as soon as tomorrow. We may not get a chance to warn your parents.” He reached for her hand and she took it, standing up with him. “On the other hand, he may still be lurking in your parents’ town, or worse, he is waiting in your parents’ house, holding them captive, for our return.”

His wife’s eyes hardened. “We can’t afford to send off Grackles as a scout. It might be the riskiest option but—“

“We need to go back. Together,” he finished, his face losing a bit of color. Elizalyn wrapped her arms around him tightly.

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

Despite the consistent low light in the forest, both Willow and Hunter could tell it was nearly dusk. They had become more and more accustomed to their environment; they almost felt comfortable in it. Almost.

Hunter was severely wrapped up in the story with thousands of thoughts running through his head about what Flapjack meant when said he wasn’t the “next” Golden Guard.

Willow was thinking about how Caleb and Elizalyn ran away, forced to abandon her parents. It felt oddly parallel, but at least Elizalyn had the chance to say goodbye. If she and Hunter ever—well, she didn’t want to think about that—she empathized deeply with Elizalyn. She may never have had a mother but she knew she wanted to grow up to be one. A mother that would never abandon her children, who would protect them at all cost. And her parents knew about this dream of hers. She told them everything and they supported her, despite hearing from a few of her teachers go on about how she would make an excellent coven head, that she should be recruited early so she didn’t have a chance to get “distracted.”

She looked at Hunter, who was lying down with his eyes wide open, doing his best to practice the breathing exercise she shared with him earlier. Her hands clenched on the moss she was sitting on, causing a few spikier plants to poke through, one of them which shot up right between Hunter’s ankles.

“Sorry!” Willow’s hands relaxed and the growth stopped.

“Can you practice somewhere else?” he asked, a little annoyed, but not angry. He just seemed confused.

“I—I didn’t even mean—I wasn’t trying to—“

Hunter sat up, first looking at the thorned vine that nearly took out his feet and then at her, and the surrounding thorns. They were slanted toward her.

“What’s wrong?”

She took off her glasses to wipe away any tears that started to form. Flapjack hopped onto her knee.

“Elizalyn was Caleb’s ‘distraction’, wasn’t she?”

The little palisman warbled mournfully.

Hunter turned away, feeling his ears heat up. The memory of the hundreds of pictures that Belos cast of he and Willow together flashed in his mind. “It wasn’t—it’s not what—“ he started to sputter under his breath.

She pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, resting the side of her head on top. Flapjack fluttered to sit on her head, which was facing Hunter. She didn’t want to say what she was thinking about out loud. It was cute seeing him a little embarrassed instead of stressing out about why they were stuck here. Clover buzzed at her feet and then Flapjack started tugging her hair with his beak.

“Hey!” Hunter got up and waved his palisman out of the way. “You can do that to me all you want but leave Willow alone.” He bit his lip. He didn’t want to upset Flapjack but wasn’t his teasing only reserved for himself?

Clover buzzed louder and Willow felt a bead of sweat go down her forehead.

Hunter looked at Willow’s tense frame. He squinted, trying to read her expression. Kneeling down and pushing some of the moss out of the way, he drew a light glyph in the dirt and tapped it. The small glow illuminated how on edge she seemed but she let out a small laugh when his eyes met hers.

“I, um,” she nudged Clover to stop nuzzling at her feet, “I’m not sure how comfortable I am sharing what’s on my mind right now. I know I said I don’t want secrets between us, even stupid ones, it’s just if I say it out loud—“

“It will make it real?”

She nodded.

“If it helps, I can remind you again that I’m not going to abandon you at the end of the river.”

She stifled the laugh that spurt through.

“What? You asked me to remind you sometimes, is that not—“

“Hunter, stop—it’s okay!” she insisted. “It does help. I promise.”

 He stared at her, feeling uncomfortable. Something was eating at her, but what could it possibly be? This wasn’t her backstory—well, he supposed it wasn’t even his own but it certainly felt like it—why were their palismen urging her to speak up?

Willow closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sat up straight.

“Okay. I am the one who said we shouldn’t have secrets between us, even stupid ones.”

Hunter and the palismen waited for her to finish, but it took a minute for her to jump to her next sentence.

“I am going to keep to that promise, which means you have to too!”

Hunter nodded anxiously, unsure if he’d be able to but he would certainly try.

“Before I share, can you promise to not think too hard about what I’m going to say?”

He hesitantly shook his head.

“Why?”

“I don’t think I can promise to not overthink anything.”

She covered her face with her hands. She knew that.

“Does it have to do with me?”

Her face grew extremely hot.

“Willow?”

“I want to be a mom!” she burst, and immediately hid her face in her arms, crouching as small as she could. “Eventually,” she mumbled into her sleeve.

Hunter cocked his head, still confused. “So? I think you’d make a great mom. Sounds like you’re the one overthinking but—“

She lifted her head slightly to meet his gaze.

“Um—“ he started, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Her head went back down. How can she be a mom if they were stuck here—well, they’d eventually find their way back to the Boiling Isles but if—if they didn’t—he gulped.

“It’s a stupid dream to have when you have no way home,” she mumbled. “And it’s stupid to think about when I’m still just a teenager. It just… came to mind again, when hearing about Caleb and Elizalyn.”

Hunter’s heart was beating faster than usual when he sat a little closer to her.

“You’ve…thought about it before?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled, “it’s silly, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s brave.”

She stared at him.

“You said your own mom abandoned you, didn’t you? And your best friend’s parents were the worst. But you have two great dads. It makes sense to me.”

“Have you ever thought about being a father?”

Hunter’s face went blank and he looked at the ground in front of him.

“The first Golden Guard was a father.”

“I know! I just—I don’t think I had ever given it much thought before,” he said, fiddling with his hands. “I mean, I have, but also, I haven’t.”

“That’s okay, Hunter,” she said, letting out a shy laugh. “We’re still just kids. That’s one of the reasons why I felt a little uncomfortable sharing. It’s not like it’s something I want right now, but hearing about Elizalyn wanting her parents to be there for her, for them, I just…it makes me miss my own parents because I know they’d want to be there for me if I was in her situation.”

Hunter continued fiddling with this thumbs, unsure of what to think or say. He remained curious about Flapjack’s story because he wanted to be open to learning something that was beyond what Belos had always told him. According to him, there were more than several Golden Guards in between Caleb’s time and his own. He hadn’t explained why yet but he hoped for more information about his own family. His real family. Did he even have a family? How could he ever think about starting a family without knowing one of his own?

“Hey,” Willow said, grabbing hold of one of his hands. “I know you couldn’t promise to not overthink but can you try?”

Startled, his mind came back to what she had confessed to him. “What was the other reason?”

“Oh,” she replied, taking back her hand. She looked at the concern written on his face and sighed. She really had to say it out loud or he’d be rotting with worry for eternity, wouldn’t he?

“I don’t want to believe it will happen, but what if we are stuck here for the rest of our lives?”

Hunter waited for further explanation because that statement really was not enough for him to see where she was going with her thoughts. She shut her eyes, praying she’d be able to face him again after saying it more bluntly. “If we’re stuck here the rest of our lives, together, will I ever be—will I ever get the chance, to be a mom?”

His face was still blank, expecting something more, waiting for something that was clearly something she would be embarrassed about. She still had her eyes shut, but she peeked one open and Clover shook their head.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, this is going to sound ridiculous when I spell it out for you. I was imagining in my head earlier a ‘what if’ situation, so please, please don’t overthink this—I was imagining us starting a family. Together.”

A silence fell for nearly an entire minute, until Flapjack nudged Hunter’s leg.

“I’m… I’m an idiot.”

“I’m sorry, I know talking about this just made everything really awkward when it didn’t have to be but you weren’t getting it, I just—“

“It’s not your fault that I’m an idiot,” he repeated, feeling extremely stiff.

Willow laughed and finally opened her eyes to face him. She remained where she was and placed Clover in her lap. Hunter was now lying face down, pulling apart the moss, attempting to bury his head.

“Just for the record, I think you would make a good father. Probably. I’m going to go climb a tree now, see you later!” Yes, Willow was brave enough to climb trees in the dark. She was even brave enough to befriend the Golden Guard. But talk about starting a family with him? If she kept going, she would end up admitting a lot more than she was ready for him to hear.

“Wait!”

Willow did not wait, but Hunter was faster. For the first time since Flapjack’s return, he called for his staff to transform and teleported directly in front of Willow, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“I know you’re amazi—you’ll make an amazing mother!” he panted. “I know what you mean by ‘what if’ situations, I imagine those all of the time. NOT that I’m imagining the same ‘what ifs’ I just meant you don’t have to be sorry! You don’t—you shouldn’t—feel embarrassed around me because of that.”

She gaped slightly at his troubled frown and wide eyes.

“Do…do you want me to help build another tent? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable if—“

“Let’s try something else,” Willow said, feeling a lot less awkward, and took his free hand. His ears continued to feel as though they were on fire but he did relax a little. She retrieved Clover transformed into her staff. “Follow me!”

--

They landed on the second-lowest branch in the tree that was closest to their camp. She released Clover and stretched out her arms. Using her magic, she contorted the twigs of the giant branch to arch over them and then created moss beds that were similar to the ones on the ground.

“I don’t understand, what are you doing, exactly?”

She carved a light glyph in one of the leaves with her finger so he could see. “I know it’s not practically the same thing as down there but it’s also not, you know? It got a little awkward in there so I decided to find a new place to start over!”

“I did say I could help you—“

“I know, but I promise you’re not making me uncomfortable. It’s just good to put ourselves in a new space, you know?”

“We could fall to our deaths, but sure.”

“Our palismen would never let that happen, right guys?”

Flapjack chirped in agreement.

“Speak for yourself but Clover literally always sleeps in, don’t know if we can trust them.”

“If you’re actually worried, we could go back down.”

“No, it’s definitely wide enough, it’s not like I’m a sleepwalker.”

Willow smiled. “Tomorrow we will be fresh for the rest of Flapjack’s story.” She fell back onto the cushiony moss and pulled up more as a blanket, snuggling in. “Goodnight, Hunter.”

“Goodnight, Captain.”

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

Flapjack’s story, continued:

“We were witch hunters, Caleb! Us! Together! How could you not only abandon me, but lie to me day after day because you were falling for the foul demonics of a wild witch?”

“If I told you what would have done? Would have allowed me to continue? She’s my wife, Belos!”

“She’s not human, Caleb!”

“And you’re not humane,” he responded in a stern voice. He looked back at Elizalyn, who had been sobbing over her parents’ bodies in the family workshop.

Belos breathed heavily and then more rapidly and he pulled out a dagger from his cloak. “You have not only gone out and created a monstrosity, done an evil that no human would ever even imagine themselves doing, you—“

“You murdered the only set of parents I had left in the world, the only grandparents our child would have ever known—and for what? Because I gave up on our mission? It was always your mission to begin with, you never listened to any of my suggestions. Go home, Belos. If you hate the demon realm this much, just leave. I know you can.”

Caleb turned his back to go over to grieve with his wife and Flapjack tweeted nervously. “He’s not worth it, little one, he won’t—“

Blood trickled down from the wound in Caleb’s side.

“Sorry, old friend,” Belos whispered, and loomed over him, as he fell, gasping for air. Flapjack was chirping frantically and all of a sudden, a loud shriek echoed throughout the entirety of the Boiling Isles.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find the right ingredients to fight side-by-side once more, don’t you think?”

Belos looked up from Caleb’s lifeless body to glare at the widow. “If you try to take him from me, I will not hesitate to destroy the creature inside you.”

They should have never returned here. Grackles cawed at Elizalyn, proposing an idea. “That already crossed my mind,” she snarled, “but if you’re up for helping me with that, let’s go.”

Belos had already dragged her husband out the door and Flapjack was following as discreetly as he could. He couldn’t just leave him, could he?

Her parents warned her once that any palistrom curse would have catastrophic consequences, no matter how you’d cast it; but now, not only were her parents gone, her husband too. All she had left was his palisman and her own and their child. She couldn’t even take his body for a proper burial.

Shouting across the field between them she aimed her staff above Belos and a bolt of lightning struck, freezing him for just a few moments. It was enough time for Elizalyn to cast the curse that this treacherous man would have to endure as long as the life of the eldest palistrom tree that ever lived; and gradually, he would become one of them.

She fell to her knees, unable to control her sobs. She would need to return home, but could it really be called home without him?

--

Flapjack’s eye widened upon seeing Belos’ curse take root. “This is why you’re coming with me,” he pushed himself to say, struggling to continue. “If I’m going to manage to make a pathetic imitation, but useful grimwalker out of you, I am going to need more than just,” he grunted, dragging him, “your corpse.”

He looked back, knowing very well the feeling of being followed. “I’m going to have to go back for your precious palisman.”

The little cardinal remained still as possible inside the bush where he was hiding.

“Palistrom is one of the ingredients, after all.”

--~--~--~--~-~-~--~-

Flapjack had agreed to finish telling his story after Hunter and Willow had something to eat and packed up their camp. They agreed it was time to move forward, and Flapjack could tell the rest of the story on the way to their next stop. They discussed the possibility of settling a camp more permanently inside the trunk of one of the trees, if it was permissible. The little cardinal wasn’t sure if it was better or worse to tell the story while they were moving, but nonetheless, he obliged.

He explained that after hearing Belos say he needed to collect palistrom, he knew he could follow no longer. He needed to find his way back to Elizalyn. Scared of going back to her parents’ house, he managed to eventually find his way back to their home. He waited for a long time but Elizalyn never returned. Flapjack didn’t know what to do other than to look for her and Grackles. It took him almost two years. He found them and they looked… happy without him. Elizalyn and Caleb’s little one was already beginning to walk. Elizalyn looked content but fragile. He didn’t want to remind her of the slaughter. Instead, he tried finding Belos again, hopes of finding if he had succeeded in his unholy quest of re-creation. Eventually, he came upon the Bat Queen and her palisman orphanage. He decided to settle there until he felt ready to come out again. Maybe eventually he could meet Caleb’s child but for now, he felt it best he stayed out of sight. Caleb was gone. They all needed to grieve in their own way and eventually, many, many years later, he met Hunter, who was the spitting image of Caleb. He had wondered if he was Elizalyn and Caleb’s great-great-great-great grandson or if he was the grimwalker Belos promised to create. However, after hearing horror-story after horror-story whenever the Bat Queen would adopt a new palisman… he knew. Some palismen got away and lived to tell the tale of how Belos tried to use them for his new “experiment” every couple of decades or so. And then it became worse, he began collecting them for their souls, to slow down his curse's side effects. 

“How many?” Hunter asked in a fragile voice. “How many Golden Guards did he—“

“I don’t think he knows, Hunter,” Willow interrupted softly.

“I thought I might learn who I am but now I am stuck wondering what I am??” he yelled, tearing off his cloak. “How could he murder—how could he take their lives like that? Do you even know their child’s name? What happened, Flapjack?” he sobbed. “What did he do to our—my—my family?”

His palisman bowed his head in shame but Willow stroked his head with the back of her hand. “This will take him some time. It will take me some time too, if I’m being honest. This was a lot to process, but I’m grateful you told us.”

Flapjack nodded solemnly and Clover buzzed over to comfort him as well.

“It just can’t be true—some of it has to be a mistake! I—“

“Deep breath in, 1-2-3-4, deep breath out,” Willow repeated her exercise as kindly as she could, just as she had done so many times in the past. “I think we stop here, okay?”

“Okay.”

--

(Edit: a little illustration I did that I already shared on tumblr but still, wanted to add it here too):

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 – Grimzoomer

It was particularly difficult the night before Belos’ “special day” for Hunter and the palismen. After learning from Flapjack he was some kind of grimwalker, which required at the bare minimum something from someone’s corpse and palistrom wood—he couldn’t help but worry he’d suddenly disappear or fall apart the moment Belos’ plan was fulfilled. He had to have known all along that draining the Boiling Isles of wild magic would eliminate his existence this entire time and he just... he raised him as his nephew.

Willow did her best to come up with ideas to keep his mind off things after he took his time to grieve and process his entire life was a lie. He was still processing it, and wasn’t sure if that kind of grief would ever leave him. He felt disgusted by it and ashamed. Every time he bathed he would scrub so hard his skin felt raw. And raw of what? Flesh? He wasn’t a witch. He wasn’t even a demon. Could he even be called a zombie? How much of Caleb was really a part of him?

One of Willow’s ideas to keep themselves distracted until the Day of Unity was to actually prepare for the day. It was not an easy suggestion to approach, even if she felt it was a slim chance that Belos had enough power to drain the wild magic outside of the Boiling Isles.

One day before the Day of Unity:

“What do you mean something special?”

“You’re worried—we’re both worried that Belos’ plan is still in effect and if it follows through…” she trailed off, not wanting to say it out loud.

“That I’ll drop dead or revert to a pile of bone and wood?”

Willow pursed her lips. “You don’t have to snap at me.”

“And you don’t have to tip-toe around me like I’m made of glass,” he spat, but not at her directly. “I mean maybe I am made of glass, but that’s beside the point.” He crossed his arms. “What is your point, anyway?”

 She sighed. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to write something like a last will and testament. Or maybe a ‘bucket’ list, as Luz calls it. I wanted to know if there was anything you wanted to do if you really are in your final days. If. That way, when the Day of Unity passes and you’re still here—you will have something to look forward to. I know we have our limitations in this place so if you want, we could just talk about it.”

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I forgive you.”

It touched him every time she forgave him instantaneously. He always had a bad habit of speaking out of turn and he never seemed to grow out of it, despite Belos’ discipline.

“I’ve always wanted to use magic for good. I was always trying to give Belos’ suggestions to help with his curse from the books I read on wild magic but he never wanted to listen.

“When Flapjack found me it was the first time I was able to use magic that wasn’t artificial. I wish I could have known what I really was—I mean I still want to know! There’s not much I ever learned about ‘grimwalkers’ other than they were some kind of extinct race of beings erected from a combination of abomination magic and potions. I didn’t realize the reason I was ‘half-a-witch’ was because I wasn’t a witch at all.”

“Well, that’s more than I ever learned. Except now they could probably use a name change.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, from my experience, ‘grimwalkers’ do in fact, walk. However I know one who can fly and he’s pretty good at it.”

Hunter laughed for the first time since Flapjack finished telling his story about the first Golden Guard.

Willow smiled. “It’s possible you just possess a different type of magical ability. I mean, don’t think I know any other witches that can teleport, with or without a palisman.”

“…Really?”

She nodded. “There’s plenty of magic from the illusion coven that can make a witch appear to teleport but it’s just a magic trick. Maybe we can try to figure out what else you can do.”

Clover buzzed around her head with glee and Flapjack chirped in response.

“It’s not a contest, guys,” Willow laughed.

“No, I think they mean we should think about how palismen use magic. If there is a part of me that is made from palistrom wood, we might actually have things in common.”

“That’s a great idea!” she replied, “I just, um, I actually don’t know a lot about palisman magic. I know they help witches in all sorts of ways with their magic and abilities but—“

“Palismen were the one type of thing created from wild magic that I was heavily informed about when I was—when I lived in the castle.”

“Right. We’ve talked about this before. I’m sorry,” she said, slapping her hand across her forehead.

Hunter took a deep breath and started listing off his facts and theories while he paced back and forth.

Willow sat down on a plant she uprooted into a chair to listen with enthusiasm. He reminded her of Luz when they had first met, full of questions and ideas. She tried her best to pay attention to everything he was saying but he was talking pretty fast and then suddenly trailed off. He blinked a couple of times, looking between her and Flapjack.

“Is there something wrong?”

“I think this is the longest anyone has let me talk without cutting me off,” he answered sheepishly.

Willow chuckled and then twirled her finger to erect a second chair made out of the same roots she was sitting on. “We could use a break from walking,” she explained.

Hunter nodded and obliged.

“Is there anything you can think of that you’d want to do that isn’t magic-related?” she asked, leaning her chair back so she could look up at the far-away canopy more comfortably.

He watched her gaze while she waited for an answer but he wasn’t sure if he had one. His mind certainly has had time to think about it the past couple of weeks but for the most part he had been explicitly avoiding it. It didn’t feel right to let himself desire things so nonchalantly when the likelihood of his demise was just around the corner.

“I’d like to learn a human sport,” she said, not changing her gaze. “After that one Grudgby game Luz thought I might be interested but based on her descriptions of all of the different kinds it sounded like she didn’t know how to actually play most of them.

“Still, maybe one day there could be a door between the human realm and the demon realm that remained open and we could live in a universe where witches, humans, and demons could pass through back and forth…”

“I think it would be interesting to visit the human realm,” Hunter said after she trailed off. “It would be interesting to see where… where my ancestors came from. I doubt I would be able to, though. Magic doesn’t work the same, if at all, in the human realm, right? Not even glyphs?”

“That’s true. I’m sorry, Hunter.”

“It’s no big deal. It’s not like we’re getting out of this place any time soon anyway.”

She sat up abruptly. “Okay, so what about something we could only do here, something we probably couldn’t even do in the Boiling Isles?”

“Find a palistrom tree,” he replied, without hesitation. “I don’t know why, exactly, or how, but I think if we did, I might find some answers, now that I know more of the truth.”

She laid back down. “There does seem to be a pretty wide variety of trees here, with the commonality of giganticness. With a river like that, I feel like there has to be some palistrom somewhere.”

That sat there wondering, letting the rush of the river and the leaves rustling around them fill their ears. Hunter was thinking back to Belos’ palistrom curse and his choice to murder his friend and then erect him again, over and over. A palistrom tree could go on living for hundreds of years untouched. If tended to regularly it could survive maybe even a millennium or longer. Of course, that is merely speculation based on some of the books he has read. It did make him wonder just how old Belos is, though.

“This might sound like a stupid question—“

“I thought we decided a while ago there are no stupid questions,” Hunter retorted.

“Do you… age?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you’re a grimwalker, did Belos… did he raise up a baby grimwalker or did he raise up a teenage grimwalker? I don’t want it to bother you, but it just came to mind—“

“No, it’s okay. It’s been on my mind too.” He started fiddling with his hands and looked down at his feet. “I know now that I've been lied to my entire life but I have been wondering if any of my memories from when I was younger are real.

“Belos always told me that he rescued me from the wild witches that killed our family. I’ve thought about it hard enough and I know I can’t remember what that family was like. All I can remember is my life in the castle and nothing before that.” Flapjack hopped up to sit on his knee and Hunter stroked his head affectionately. “That makes me believe that all of my memories are real, but I don’t think I can remember much past my sixth birthday. I wonder if he decided babies were too much work but still felt like he needed to raise a child-grimwalker because they are easy to manipulate and like to follow rules.”

“Mother Titan, Hunter,” Willow exerted, and immediately got up and walked over to him. 

“What? I don’t know how it works, but I do think I did grow up! I’m still—I think I do age, to answer your question,” he said and then squirmed. “What are you doing?”

She wrapped him in a tight hug and did not let go. “You didn’t have a childhood,” she replied, muffled into his chest. “You deserved a childhood.”

Hunter’s face flushed a few shades but in a few seconds, he relaxed. It was a little difficult to breathe because Willow did not loosen her arms but it felt safe all the same. He rested his arms around her and allowed his chin to rest delicately on the top of her head. It was the first time Willow embraced him where he felt it was okay to hug her back.

“I hope that someday you do get to be a mother,” he mumbled almost unintelligibly.

At this, Willow’s grip tightened slightly and made Hunter squeak.

“Sorry!” she squawked, pushing herself off of him and jumping back. “We can start walking again,” she added quickly, “if you want, that is.”

He hesitantly held out his hand, unsure if he had to ask or if the gesture was enough for her to take it. When she looked up, Flapjack chirped unexpectedly and then transformed right into his hand. “Did—did you want to race ahead?” he asked, somewhat bewildered.

She blinked when Clover followed suit, and then laughed. “Let’s go, grimflyer.”

He squinted, shaking his head, but still with a smirk on his face.

“Okay, so the name still needs work,” she shrugged, and then jumped on her staff and rocketed off.

“Whoa, who said you could have a head-start!” he yelled, and then teleported ahead of her.

“Who said you could cheat!” she shouted, trying to keep up.

“Where are we racing to, anyway?”

“Wherever we feel like stopping, I guess!”

“I’m flying above the river!” Hunter announced, and then teleported about 20 feet directly above the rushing water. “No obstacles!”

“You could fall in!”

“First one to spot a palistrom tree wins!”

Willow huffed, but she was determined to follow not too far behind. It was nice to feel the thrill of the wind rushing through her hair and to fly for fun again. The afternoon was almost over and she was glad Clover wanted to play. They too, wanted to keep their minds off what tomorrow might bring.

All of a sudden, she heard Hunter cry out her name, and her eyes widened. She zoomed ahead, following where his voice came from, which was on the opposite side of the river. She flew over and came to a brusque halt when she saw Hunter hovering in front of a tree they hadn’t seen yet. It appeared there was a cluster of them in the surrounding area ahead. Hunter’s mouth was hanging open in awe but his eyes looked alarmed.

“I know the trees are huge here but—“

“Are these palistrom?”

He nodded. “I have never seen a palistrom tree…so alive,” he breathed.

Willow’s mouth gaped open slightly and her eyes sparkled. She never imagined she would actually get to see a live palistrom tree, let alone a forest of them. They were virtually extinct on the Boiling Isles. “They’re beautiful.”

“We should camp here for the time being,” he said as his glistening eyes hardened. “I…I want to be here if tomorrow really does drain wild magic everywhere—“

“I understand,” she said, biting her lip.

Hunter flew up to one of the higher low branches and sat down, letting Flapjack sit with him. Willow followed and she noticed the palms of his hands were pressed against the bark.

“I’m not human, I’m not a demon, or even a witch but—“ he said, looking at Flapjack and Clover, “I’m still my own person. I still think for myself, I exist!”

He began to hyperventilate so Willow sat next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Palismen have their own souls because of the wild magic in palistrom trees which has to mean I have—I am—I have—“

“You have a soul, Hunter,” she confirmed. Both Flapjack and Clover nuzzled his cheeks in agreement, which made him laugh a little bit into a small hiccup. Willow reached over to wipe away the tears that had streamed down his cheeks.

When his eyes met hers, he couldn’t control the gratitude he felt. For Flapjack sticking with him, for Willow pressuring him into flyer derby, for the truth—and the mere fact that she isn’t afraid of him—she trusts him—he couldn’t bear the thought of disappearing on her because of the evil Belos had deliberately arranged to destroy his existence. The second she reached to wipe another tear away, he seized her hands and gently placed his forehead against hers.

“Thank you,” he wept softly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 – Wild Vicious Violent Chickens

Rubbing her eyes open, Willow woke up to the sight of Hunter whistling softly at the edge of the palistrom branch they had fallen asleep on. Flapjack was flapping around and chirping along.

Clover was still asleep, nuzzled by her side. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was the fifth day after the Day of Unity and still, nothing had changed. Hunter stopped whistling when he heard her getting up to stretch.

“I don’t mind, you know?” she said, reaching past one side of her body and then the other. “You don’t have to stop because I’m conscious.”

Hunter did not return to his whistling, but he acknowledged what she said by giving her a small nod. Clover opened their eyes in a sullen manner but then shook herself awake. She and Willow left the tree briefly to collect some breakfast and boil some water. When they returned, Hunter was hanging on the branch from his knees attempting to do sit-ups. Attempting.

“Hungry?”

Hunter yelped and Flapjack transformed below to catch him. Willow grinned. “I made some tea—and you’ll never believe this but I found some wild chickens!”

He stared at her roughed up hands that presented three large eggs, somewhat speckled in color.

“…What kind of chickens?”

“There’s an area around the border of where the palistrom trees start further down the river—actually now that I think about it, maybe they’re turkeys?” she stopped, trying to remember the details, “No, no, they were definitely chickens—“

“Vicious chickens, it looks like,” he said, pointing to the scratches along her arms. “Are you okay?”

“Oh I’m fine, I spell-cast some aloeshrooms close to our tree, they should be big enough to use after we eat. Come on!” After jumping off her staff mid-air onto the branch, she walked over to the trunk where they had been making themselves comfortable the past few days. Hunter followed her and sat down, taking some of the vegetable items she gathered. He hesitantly accepted one of the eggs. It was still hot—Willow must have just boiled them along with the water to make the tea.

“We used to have chickens in our backyard,” Willow mentioned, seeing his uncertainty. “I may have gotten a little over-excited when I found them.”

“How did your family get rid of them?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

“Well you got rid of them, didn’t you? You said you ‘used’ to—“

“They weren’t wild chickens, Hunter!” she chuckled. “My Papa grew up on a farm. He decided it would be nice to take care of some of the farm’s chickens in our backyard but eventually neither he nor Appa had much time for them and I had school so…they went back to my grandparents’ farm.”

“So I guess they weren’t nearly as violent as these chickens.”

Willow laughed again. “I mean, our chickens were pretty feisty too. Maybe half the size of the wild-violent-vicious chickens, but still feisty.”

She finished peeling away one of the eggshells and ate. Hunter watched and then did the same. When the tea had cooled off enough for them to drink, they sat next to each other against the trunk of the tree. They each sipped slowly, listening to the rustling of the leaves that surrounded them. He kept glancing at the lines of dried blood on her arms.

“Do you think the aloeshrooms have grown enough yet?”

Willow blinked. “I’m not sure, but maybe? They tend to grow slower than other spell-cast mushrooms but I can check—“

“I can do it,” Hunter stated, and then set his cup of tea down.

“…They’re right at the bottom of the tree, close to where we had been collecting firewood from the other side of the river.”

He and Flapjack took off to find them and Willow smiled to herself, shaking her head. The scratches really were not that bad. She was wondering to herself if they ever returned to this area, that perhaps there was a possibility they could domesticate the wild chickens. She could grab eggs by herself but she’d definitely need help with rounding up the chickens themselves. They did briefly talk yesterday about the possibility of returning here if they found nothing at the end of the river. The atmosphere the palistrom trees emitted was different than the trees on the opposite side of the water. It made them feel safe, protected, and the ground was abundantly lush with edible plant life. And now they knew there were chickens!

“Okay, we can start with the worst one—where is it?”

Willow nearly jumped. Hunter had returned and was now inspecting her arm, lifting it up by her wrist. She could take care of the minor injuries herself but his concern left her almost dumbstruck.

“My elbow—there’s going to be a scab on that one later for sure,” she said, her face starting to feel warm.

He broke one of the aloeshrooms in half and rubbed one of them into the larger scratch. His eyes did not look up at her once when applied the rest to the remainder of her scrapes. With his gloves off (he wore them most of the time!) she noticed now, up close, his skin looked severely scarred. They appeared to look as if they had been burned, healed, and reburned. His hands didn’t feel rough but she could see from the scars on his face to the nick in his ear… and at his hands, his gentle hands… Did Belos really put him through all of that, knowing he had a plan to just kill him later? How many before Hunter were forced to suffer as he did? Were these the hands that created Flapjack, that loved Elizalyn? Willow’s eyes watered. She wondered if anyone did this for him or if he always had to tend to his own scrapes and bruises alone.

“Did I—did I do something wrong?” Hunter asked, still holding one of her arms.

“No, I—I’m just amazed at who you are.”

Still coated in the aloeshroom slime, she grabbed his hand anyway, interlocking their fingers. Hunter grimaced slightly, but blushed when his eyes met hers. He suddenly felt extremely aware of how little space there was between them.

“It’s not that you’re a different person, but you do seem different now, since the Day of Unity has passed.”

“Well, I didn’t revert back to a pile of ingredients,” he shrugged, “so I guess that’s good.”

“Can I ask you to promise me something?”

“Again?”

She squeezed his hands gently but had a cheeky look on her face.

“Promise you’ll help me domesticate the wild-violent-vicious chickens whenever we come back here?”

“Are you insane?” Hunter nearly shouted, ripping his hands away from hers.

“It’s pretty clear I would need the help so…” she trailed off, tapping her fingers together. Her face was still a bit flushed, thinking about Hunter had just tended to her arms as well as the idea of him doing it again in the future.

“Anyway, don’t you mean if we come back here?” He wiped what was left of the aloeshrooms along the bark of the tree.

She frowned. She did mean “if,” but her expectations of returning to the Boiling Isles continued to get lower and lower each day. She wanted to hope for something that felt less impossible.

Flapjack chirped and nudged Hunter’s leg.

“Okay, okay, I promise! Geez.” He shooed away his palisman and leaned back against the tree to sit next to Willow again. She smirked and Flapjack fluttered over to sit in her lap.

“Traitor,” Hunter scoffed, and his palisman tweeted a quick come-back. His ears grew hot.

“We don’t have to domesticate the wild-violent-vicious chickens if you don’t want to,” Willow offered, and then let her head rest on his shoulder.

“Oh, you can’t back out of it now,” he replied. “We are domesticating those monsters whether we like it or not.”

She giggled which in turn make him let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, Hunter.”

-

Bonus doodle added:

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 –  Cozy Cold Nights

It had been over three weeks after the Day of Unity had passed (by Hunter’s countdown) and the wild magic surrounding them had not dissipated. Hunter had not reduced to a pile of ingredients and the palismen were still alive and well. Whatever happened on the Day of Unity on the Boiling Isles did not happen here.

Interiorly, Hunter did not feel reassured. His deepest fear was that his death was inevitable and it could happen at any moment without warning. Willow could tell he was still anxious but she had a feeling that anxiety was never going to leave him completely. They agreed since the palistrom wood appeared unchanged and the palisman felt healthy it was time to move on.

Over the next couple of weeks of following the river downstream, they noticed that daylight was appearing brighter each day. This was giving them hope that they were reaching the end of the river and the edge of the forest.

 --

In the evenings, they spent a lot of time theorizing why nothing had changed over the last couple of weeks. It was all they could do to keep their minds off worse things, especially on this particular night. It was colder than usual and everything in the forest was damp. The shelter they had built together was shoddy compared to ones they had put together in the past, but it’s what they could do with the energy they had left.

They started exchanging more theories once they felt comfortable enough inside and the opening let what little light there was in so they could still see the outlines of their faces as they spoke.

Perhaps Belos never found the power source he needed. Or maybe someone managed to destroy the door before he could try opening it. Maybe Belos’ plan went accordingly but it wasn’t strong enough to reach wherever they were. They theorized that maybe he actually needed Hunter himself as the power source. They weren’t entirely sure what other ingredients Hunter had been composed of but it had to be more than just palistrom. If he didn’t have a witch’s bilesac but could still yield a palisman staff there had to be something else. Willow wondered if Belos decided that once he was able to open the door to the human realm perhaps he decided to change his mind about the “Day of Unity” and simply left the Boiling Isles behind to never return.

“I remember Belos telling me once that the Human Realm had rain that wasn’t boiling,” Hunter remarked. “It’s not like here, though.”

Willow looked up at him as he peered out of their shelter, watching a droplet hit his nose. He frantically brushed it off and she chuckled. When it rained here, the atmosphere was quite cool and foggy. It has never down-poured since their time here but every so often a mist seems to pass through and condensation will drip down from the canopy.

“I wonder if plants grow more like here in the human realm.”

“If that’s true, the human realm has more magic than Belos could ever dream of,” he muttered, then slumped back down next to her.

A brisk gust cut through the shelter causing their palismen to stir frantically. Willow waved her hand in a small circle, commanding the large leathery-like leaves to weave together. The air settled inside their roughly-constructed tent but it was now pitch-black. Flapjack and Clover huddled close together between them and Hunter shivered. It was going to be a long night.

“Can you share your cloak?”

He looked up and felt a warm puff of air on his cheek. Willow was extremely close to him and thank Titan she couldn’t see his face right now because—

“Almost forgot Luz’s light glyph,” he heard her say to herself, and within a couple of seconds their tiny space was illuminated in warm light. “They last so much longer than spell-casting it for some reason.”

The palismen were pleased to have the light and were making happy noises, nuzzling together. Willow placed her hand on top of Hunter’s and his spine straightened at the touch.

“Are you going to…” she trailed off, noticing his demeanor. “Are you okay?”

  He sat there, frozen, unable to produce an answer. He stared at the ground, still feeling Willow’s breath on his cheek. It was one thing having to go through the Emperor’s Coven training with the rest of the scouts but it was something else entirely spending night after night inches away from Captain Willow Park.

“I’m cool!” he finally splutterd, letting out air he didn’t know he was holding hostage in his lungs. He hugged his knees and his face planted right on top. “Why is this hard?” he mumbled.

“Why is what hard?” Willow asked, scooching a bit closer to him. “Like, specifically?”

Hunter lifted his mopey face to look at her. She was making herself more comfortable by taking one end of his cloak and wrapping it around herself. He then adjusted himself by crossing his legs and sat up a little straighter. She wasn’t holding his hand or leaning her head on his shoulder but their arms were touching. It felt different than other times she had done this because it was so much colder than usual—cold enough that it made him long for her presence to be as close to him as possible but where they were—it was just so small and it made him feel as if—

“I think I might be claustrophobic?” he cracked.

“Oh?” she asked, concerned, and started to unwrap herself from his cloak.

“Don’t—“ he said, grabbing her wrist, but immediately loosening it. “You—it’s not you making me feel that way. I think.” He let go of her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“It is a pretty small tent,” she said, searching for a way to make him feel more at ease. “I would tear an opening but I don’t think our friends would appreciate it much.” Willow nodded towards the palismen, who were now fast asleep inside the small basket that she had spell-weaved a few days ago for food-gathering purposes.

“Yeah, I’d rather deal with this than Flapjack pecking at me.”

“So is it okay if I sit next to you?”

He nodded.

“Is it okay if we share your cloak?”

His eyes widened. It just clicked that she had asked that earlier. He immediately unfastened it from his neck and laid it over both of them like a blanket. The Golden Guard patch stared back up at them. Flapjack may have stated that the position of the Golden Guard was never worthy to begin with but knowing it originated from Caleb made him feel worthy enough.

Willow rested her head on his shoulder and his head leaned to rest on hers. The gusts outside grew a bit louder but nothing seeped through. He felt safe again. His hand itched to hold hers. It would be the perfect time since Flapjack was asleep and wouldn’t get the chance to tease him about it later. No, it was a stupid idea. If he did it, he’d probably get sweaty and she’d get uncomfortable. He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh which made Willow lift her head questioningly. When he didn’t provide an answer, her brows furrowed. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable but clearly something more than the size of their tent was bothering him. She set her head back down on his shoulder again but not without a frown.

“Dammit,” Hunter spat, turning his head, glaring at his perceptive friend, his beautiful, tenacious, perceptive friend. “It’s ‘I Have A Stupid Question But You Better Not Make Fun Of Me For It’ time,” he stammered.

Willow half-smiled. She couldn’t laugh—not much, anyway. She was proud of him.

“Okay, shoot,” she said, flipping around to face him.

Hunter’s face flushed immediately, as he was not expecting to look directly into her warm and inviting kind eyes. He covered his face, eyes included, then mumbled into his palm, “Can-I-hold-your-hand?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Don’t make me ask it again!”

His face was now beet-red, which made Willow’s cheeks tinge a slight rosy pink.

“I um, genuinely didn’t hear you the first time,” she laughed nervously, “but I promise you won’t ever have to ask it again after you say it just one more time? Please?”

He removed his hand from his face. Willow sat there, waiting.

Mother Titan, this was unfair. Unless—unless this would never have to happen again..?

“You promise I will never have to ask again?”

Willow felt suspicious from the quiet eagerness in his voice. “So long as this is not a stupid trick—“

He shook his head. “It’s just a stupid question. I feel dumb for asking it and I just want—I don’t want to have to ask it again if I don’t have to.”

“…Okay, fine. Go ahead, then.” She squinted curiously, wondering what she had just set herself up for.

“May I hold your hand?”

It was Willow’s turn to feel stiff. She wanted to laugh but she couldn’t. She wanted to give him an answer but her tongue was tied. He asked so purposefully and formally. It shouldn’t have surprised her but it still caught her off guard. It felt silly, too. He had no issue jumping to help heal the scratches on her arms weeks ago. Why would he—

“So it really was a stupid question, I’m sorry.” Hunter crossed his arms and closed his eyes, desperately wanting this moment to be over. 

Her heart skipped a beat. 

“I promised you would never have to ask again and I’m keeping my word," she said, holding her arm up as if she were about to give an oath.

“Well what is that supposed to mean if you didn’t even—“

Willow flipped back around, almost whipping herself into Hunter's side. She pulled his hand out of his cross and with her other hand she grabbed the cloak to throw it back over them. Her fingers interlocked with his, which felt almost as if they had a slight tremor. She squeezed and his hand relaxed.

“You never have to ask if you want to hold my hand, Hunter,” she said, looking directly into his eyes. “If you want to, you have my permission. Anytime.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16 – He Couldn’t, He Wouldn’t

Over the next couple weeks of traveling, they had been flying extensively to speed up their travel time. Flapjack and Clover needed to regain their strength. Since it appeared that sunlight was scattering more and more through the trees, Hunter and Willow were certain that the edge of the forest had to be close. It wasn’t nearly as close as they had imagined. They had exhausted their palismen and were forced to walk once again.

They decided to set up camp for a few days to recuperate. During the day, Willow would take Clover in her basket to collect food and explore the area while Hunter would usually stay at the camp to explore unique glyph combinations. At night they would share each other’s findings and muse more about the wild magic that thrived here.

“I wish I had a book to read on it, or even some kind of journal to write what I can about it,” Hunter sighed, poking at the campfire. “It’d be nice to not to rely on my memory for each one that turns out to be useful.”

“I wish I had some of my textbooks with us—they would certainly come in handy here.” Willow laid out her findings along a pelt puff moss bed she grew and noticed one of the plants she had picked she mistook for something else. She picked it up to inspect it more closely and a small gasp escaped her lips.

“This is lychee cotton!” she whispered excitedly, passing the small fuzzy plant to Hunter.

“I don’t recognize it- is this… good?” he asked, wondering if he should taste it.

She swiped it away from him. “Please don’t eat this,” she laughed. “I’m trying to remember where I picked this—Clover, do you remember?”

Clover took a quick peek and nodded a little uncertainly.

“Hm. I want to go back and see how much more there is, but it is getting closer to nightfall. I should probably wait until morning.”

“Are you going to fill me in?”

“This little guy,” she waved in front of him, “is our ticket to getting a better wardrobe as soon as our clothes finally wear out completely.”

Hunter looked down at his trousers and then back at Willow, examining her Hexside uniform. They would wash their clothes as often as they needed to but they only had one set of clothes each.

“The thing is, I haven’t exactly tried spell-weaving actual clothes from lychee cotton before… a blanket or robe is simple enough but I don’t know about pants or shirts or things like that. I hope there is enough for me to practice or I could get some samples and grow them later on…”

As Willow continued to think out loud, Hunter had his mind on his belongings back at the castle. It was perhaps childish to wonder what had become of his bedroom and everything he had collected for his own there. Several books, mainly. He never had the time to keep it tidy. He tried imagining who would be responsible for cleaning it out, and smirked at the idea if Darius were to be tasked with it. Then he frowned. More likely it would go to Kikimora and her scouts, if it was to be tasked to anyone. If he had to choose, he hoped it would be Steve, one of the scouts that he had gotten to know during his training. If it was Darius, at least he wouldn’t trash his room. He remembered him saying that the previous Golden Guard was his mentor. Did he know… did he know?

“Isles to Hunter,” Willow called, waving her hands in front of his face. “Where did you go just now?”

He blinked and then stared at her.

“Do you think—how many Coven Heads knew?”

Willow frowned, perplexed, but Flapjack chirped a clarification.

“All of the Coven Heads had to have known the Golden Guard before me. Lilith wasn’t in charge for that long. They had to—someone has to know, don’t they?”

Before Hunter could clench his fists, he looked down at Willow’s free hand. He didn’t have to ask. He didn’t have to ask. He swallowed and got up to sit next to her then as quickly as possible took her hand in his.

“Darius has to know. He has to,” he whispered, holding tightly.

“I don’t know how much any of them could know,” Willow approached, her face slightly warmed, “but my guess is at least some of them know something is off about the way Belos does things.”

“Darius told me the night I thought I was rescuing you all from the Emperor’s Coven that—“

“You mean the night you had us all kidnapped?”

“However you want to look at it, okay?” he retorted. “He told me, after I demanded him to let you all go free that I would make my predecessors proud. That he knew my predecessor.”

“Maybe some of the Coven Heads are working together against Belos in secret.”

“I just feel so stupid for not seeing any of it to begin with!” he cried, raising his voice. “Does Darius know I’m a grimwalker? Why didn’t he—if he cared at all why wouldn’t he—“

His grip on Willow’s hand tightened but she didn’t wince. Flapjack tugged on a strand of his hair to break his attention and he let go. She responded by wrapping her arms around him and squeezing.

“What—what is this?”

“Do you honestly think,” she began without letting go of him, “that you would have believed Darius if he tried to tell you?”

He paused and then shook his head. He placed his hands on her one arm wrapped around in front of him, not wanting her to let go.

“It’s not your fault, Hunter.”

“I wish… I wish he could tell me about him now.”

“When we return you are going to make sure that he does.”

He nodded and Willow released her embrace.

They sat there a while in silence after Hunter reached for her hand again to hold it a bit more gently this time. There was not a single witch or demon that ever held his hand in the castle. He always had to rely on himself, even as a small child. Belos may have raised him as his nephew but he never experienced that kind of physical affection from him. He wasn’t sure if it felt normal or not so maybe it really didn’t. He had permission from her to hold his hand at any time but did he ever really need to ask for that kind of permission? She never asked him permission to hold his hand and that didn’t bother him. She rarely asked permission to be up in his personal space and it almost never bothered him. Did she… like it as much as he did? Or is this just how witches outside of the Emperor’s Coven are?

“Did you celebrate your birthday in the castle at all? I mean, did Belos give you a birthday to celebrate?”

“Birthdays weren’t really a thing in the castle but I did have a birthday. I guess it’s not really a birthday for me but I wouldn’t do anything too special regardless.”

“Like what, though?”

“I’d buy a book from one of the shops in town as myself. Without my mask. Oh, and there was that one time Steve and I played a prank on Kikimora. That was definitely one of the better ones.”

“Okay, that is something I need to hear every detail on,” she laughed. “Spill.”

--

The next morning, Willow and Clover set out to find where she vaguely remembered the patch of lychee cotton was. She knew if she was able to experiment making sets of clothing with her magic she might be able to do something else with it as well. She didn’t know much about bookbinding and wished she had Amity with her for some tips but she was pretty sure she would be able to fashion up something.

“Aha!” she shouted. There in front of her was the lychee cotton- and a decent amount of it too! Before attempting her experimentation, she plucked a few to collect in her basket so she could experiment with more later. Concentrating hard she waved a large spell-circle with both of her hands to transform the lychee cotton into the first stage.

--

Hunter was busy at the camp rambling away at his palisman.

“Even chances have to be earned, Flapjack—we both grew up seeing ourselves half-a-witch. So how are we so different? How is she like... that?” he exasperated. “Maybe it’s because I’m a grimwalker and that is what makes me the way I am. But we’re not that different, are we?”

His palisman chirped cheerfully and Hunter sighed. “I know it’s not worth worrying about but it’s better than worrying about other things like what it will be like going back to the Boiling Isles.” He was lying down on one of the moss beds Willow had made staring up at the canopy.

“We need to make a plan—no, scratch that—I need to make a plan.” He turned over to look at Flapjack who was looking at him curiously. “Your plans get us in nothing but trouble.”

Flapjack warbled in denial.

“We already talked about going back to the palistrom wood area if we don’t find anything at the Edge but what if do find something? What then?

But even if we don’t find anything and we do go back to the palistrom wood area—what are we supposed to do with ourselves? Wait around until someone rescues us? Build a cute little treehouse and have a yard down below full of giant vicious chickens—and you know Willow would want a garden too—how would I even fit into that equation?”

Frustrated, he drew a small light glyph in the ground and tapped it, watching the small glowing orb rise up in front of him. “I’m good at a lot of things. I had to be. And now that I know the truth… more than anything I am determine to live. Belos may have given me a life but he can’t take it from me. He won’t. So why—why is imagining a future with—“

Willow’s voice carried across the forest. “Hunter!” she shouted.

His ears perked up at the sound with concern. He couldn’t tell if she was excited or—no, no time to waste. He reached for Flapjack and teleported his way closer to the sound of her voice.

“Hunte—oh, you’re here!” Willow stopped and looked up, grinning. His face flushed. She was fine. He let Flapjack go after landing safely on the ground in front of her. She was fine.

“Guess what?” she asked, shielding her basket from his gaze.

“..What?”

“Like I said this morning I was going to go and see if there was more lychee cotton to see if I could spell-weave any clothing—which honestly, I definitely need more practice in—but you’ll never guess what else I was able make!”

Hunter cocked his head, trying to see if it was in the basket or something she was wearing.

“Close your eyes.”

He hesitated for a second but her eager eyes convinced him it was going to be okay and did as she requested.

She took both of his hands and placed something in them for him to hold. Flapjack chirped and then Hunter blinked, staring at the object she handed to him. It was… a book!

“Where did you—“

“I made it!” she said triumphantly. “It took some experimenting with different spell techniques I remember in some of my abominations classes applied to my plant magic but I was able to work it out and once I got the pages done figuring out spell-weaving the spine was easy!

“I will admit though, I didn’t get a writing utensil yet, I was actually going to ask you what you might prefer, some type of ink or...”

Hunter wanted to kiss her.

He couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He was frozen.

“Do you… do you like it?”

He nodded stiffly.

“Okay, good!”

Clover eyed Flapjack, who had a delighted smirk on his face.

Hunter felt like he had fairy flies churning in his stomach.

“Let’s go back to camp?” she asked tentatively.

He laughed. He started laughing in small giggles at first, but then it became hysterical.

“Um—“

“This—this is amazing,” he almost choked, “I don’t know how to—is there something I can—“

“Hunter, there’s no need. We have to help each other survive, right? I thought this might help?”

She smiled and walked past him to start going towards the camp. Her cheeks turned carnation pink the second he caught up with her, flipping through the blank pages.

“You’re amazing,” he exhaled.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17 – Steamy

“He’s been acting weird the past couple of weeks.”

Her palisman buzzed doubtfully.

“Weirder than usual, Clover,” Willow said, rolling her eyes amusedly. “Since we’re flying today, I may not get a chance until later to talk about it with him. He has been writing a lot though; I think it’s been good for him.”

Clover made another noise more softly in her ear as they landed on her shoulder and Willow’s ears flushed.

“He’s taking notes the wild magic here, and the glyphs. I sincerely doubt he would write about what he thinks of me. He can just tell me that.”

Clover disagreed.

“Well you don’t have to call me out like that. We may have been here for a few months already but I don’t think I’m ready to approach him with that idea. It’s been nice just…having a friend. And he’s still processing a lot.” Willow looked up from their tent she was dismantling to see Hunter shooing Flapjack away from his face as he was trying to eat some of his breakfast. She chuckled. Thank Titan for Flapjack. “We both are.”

Clover murmured softly into her chest.

“Yeah… he did.” Willow kissed them softly on top of their head. She couldn’t imagine if Hunter hadn’t gone out of his way to warn them. They were like-minded in that way—they were both determined to protect the ones they cared about. He was afraid for her, which in the moment, felt strange because before he always seemed to be slightly afraid of her. She snorted at that. She couldn’t imagine Amity ever feeling that way. Her friendship with Amity was gradually building into a relationship she could rely on but it didn’t feel as if Amity could really see her for who she is or who she had become yet. Gus had offered to sit down with her and explain several times but Willow never wanted to force her perception to change. She wanted it to happen naturally and that would take time.

She was curious about Hunter’s perception of her now, though. She wasn’t going to spy on the journal she had given him as Clover suggested—that was a serious invasion of privacy she refused to fall into.

But they were close to the end of the river and which meant things between them might shift. He promised he wouldn’t leave her—and reminded her every single night, mostly to tease her, but also, she believed, he recited his promises to her every night so he wouldn’t forget. It was very sweet and not something she was used to so she never felt inclined to stop him from the ritual. The list was getting longer though, which made her giggle.

If there was a portal or door to the Boiling Isles at the end of the river, they would have no choice to go back. They had talked about where they would stop by first, which would likely be the Owl House. She wanted to go home first but Hunter was convinced that Belos would most likely have scouts watching the house for their return. He did suggest going to Hexside though, instead of the Owl House. It might be the safest best, considering. That way they might be able to find intel through her classmates and friends on where it was actually safe and if they had news about Willow’s parents. It’s not like they could keep a firm plan, but they should at least have a list of ideas to improvise from.

If there was nothing at the end of the river, there were two options they were considering. They could travel along the Edge, if where they were in fact was an island or perhaps a section of the Boiling Isles they had never visited. At least by traveling along the edge they would have clearer sunlight and might be able to see land in whatever sea this forest was in the middle of. However, they have no idea how large this land truly was—if was an island or something massive as a continent. They’d never be able to fly high enough to see over to the other side, there was no way for them to tell. Hunter suggested if they walked along the edge at night they might be able to see constellations. Even if they weren’t familiar, maybe they could use the stars to navigate.

Willow still had some doubts about this option though. Even if they could navigate via the stars, she was worried they would eventually get lost and never find their way back to the second option on the table: travel back upstream to where the palistrom wood area flourished. Hunter did admit that he worried about that as well, and she could tell that he already seemed wistful about going back.

But what was the right call?

--

Flying was definitely the best way to travel. Above the river so long as they were careful, they could catch up on all of the time they had lost by camping out. Sunlight was no longer scattered—it was pouring in. They were finally able to see what was beyond the trees and it was… a cliff. The river ended in a long waterfall to a rocky beach below and beyond that was nothing but a vast ocean.

Hunter and Willow had nothing to say when they finally made it. Wordlessly they made their way down to the rocky beach, a bit further away from the waterfall to avoid its splash. In the sides of the cliff behind them they could see there were caverns of odd sizes, including one directly behind the waterfall. There were several tide pools and the salty sea that thrashed on the shore smelled familiar. Steam surrounded them.

This was definitely the Boiling Sea.

--

Hunter hugged his knees as he stared blankly ahead. Flapjack settled on his shoulder, glancing at Willow and Clover. She sat cross-legged on one of the more flat-topped rocks and was stroking Clover’s back. They both knew that the chances at finding answers were slim but they did at least get one. They may not be close to the Boiling Isles but this was the Boiling Sea.

Hunter picked up pebble by his foot and then stood up. He then threw it full-force as far as he could into the water. It plinked a couple of times on the surface and then bubbled downward.

His eyes glossed over and he fought back a grimace.

“I wish I knew what I was hoping for but,” he cracked, “I know it wasn’t this.”

Willow tried to smile, but the curve of mouth wobbled. If she spoke, there was not a chance she would be able to stop herself from crying. Instead, she sat there, gaze unchanging, fixated on the endless, bubbling sea in front of them.

Hunter turned to look at her and frowned. There were sprouts of thorny vines beginning to form around where she was sitting, sprouting through the rocks. “Captain?”

She blinked, and then looked up at him. The vines stopped forming.

“I think we should fly back up. I don’t think spending much time in the Boiling Sea’s steam will be good for us.”

She nodded and took his hand when he reached down. Before calling their palismen into their staff forms he pulled her into a snug embrace. He could feel himself starting to sweat profusely and his heart started beating faster as soon as Willow crumpled into his chest. It wasn’t fair to her that they were stuck there and she could easily blame him. He wished he had answers for her. He wished he had answers for himself! He didn’t know how to get out of what he just put himself into either, feeling very uncertain about letting go.

Willow then pushed him gently and he loosened his arms, looking down at her with his eyes wide in a slight panic.

“Thanks for keeping your promise so far,” she said quietly, and tried to give him a cheerful smile.

“You aren’t—you don’t have to pretend to be happy about it, you know,” he replied, with a pit forming in his stomach.

She winced, holding back a flood of tears. She was happy. She was. She was happy he kept his promise. She just… she didn’t know what she was hoping for either. All she knew is that it wasn’t this.

Clover nuzzled gently at her cheek and then buzzed forcefully at Hunter, startling him out of his own thoughts. Willow turned her head, staring daggers at her palisman for interfering but before she could come up with an excuse, she felt Hunter’s lips press firmly on her forehead. Her face suddenly felt extremely hot.

“We should go,” he said gently. “Before the steam burns your skin clean off.”

She looked at him blankly and he stared back with a straight face. She finally laughed.

“You’re right,” Willow said without her voice wavering. She called for Clover to transform and after one more longing look at the sea, she shot through the air.

Flapjack chirped at Hunter, who still held his gaze upward, watching Willow fly. He chirped again.

“Okay, okay!” he whined, “You don’t have to mock me.” Flapjack transformed and Hunter joined Willow in the sky. “Sometimes I really don’t know what it is you want from me,” he mumbled, unable to prevent himself from smiling, “but I think I finally did something right.”

edit (added doodle):

Chapter Text

Chapter 18 – Building Bridges

Hunter and Willow made camp near the cliff side to settle for a few days before making a final decision on what to do. The chance of them seeing the Boiling Isles in the distance from another side of…wherever they were…seemed like a decent possibility knowing that they were surrounded by the Boiling Sea. They were also a bit tired of being surrounded by the darkness of the forest—it was nice having actual sunlight and the ability to keep track of time more easily.

“I think if we walk the perimeter, we have to leave something here,” Hunter said, looking out at the waterfall. “We need to make sure we can recognize it, otherwise we could be going in circles for an eternity, even if we fly for most of it, we don’t know how long—“

“You’re right,” Willow interrupted. “But what do we have that we can spare to leave?”

“There are a lot of rocks at the bottom of the cliff. What if we built something with them up here?”

“That’s not a bad idea, they could definitely last through whatever weather that might pass through. But how would we—“

“Glyphs!”

Willow grinned at Hunter’s exclamation, but her smile turned into a small frown. He looked nervous at suggesting the glyphs, like she might shut him down.

“How do you feel about going down there with Flapjack to make a giant ice glyph around a bunch of boulders?” she asked, placing one of her hands on his shoulders. “Once you tap it to bring them up, I can use my vines to swing them over.”

“You got it, Captain!” he said, feeling a little bit taller.

“We’ll have to be quick—don’t want the Boiling Sea melting down the ice before I can grab them.”

Hunter saluted to her before jumping on his staff to fly down. She shook her head with a giggle. He had reminded her of Luz and the way she tended to say things. The thought of telling him that made her laugh.

--

Combining the boulders with broken down branches and clay, Willow was able to create a bridge across the river. It pretty much depleted any energy she had left for the day and she collapsed after finishing the last touch. Face plastered with concern, Hunter teleported to her side to catch her. Willow’s glasses were lopsided on her face and her eyelids drooped.

“I say…we stay one more night here,” she yawned, shutting her eyes completely.

Hunter looked up at Clover who then settled themselves comfortably onto Willow’s lap and Flapjack followed.

“I guess everyone is calling it an early night, huh?”

He was answered with Willow’s light snoring which made him laugh. He was already partially holding her weight from catching her mid-collapse so he placed his other arm under her legs and lifted her up. The palismen cuddled a little more closely together and looking at the three of them together like that made his entire body feel warm.

He walked them over to their tent and gently laid Willow on the soft moss bed. Her glasses were still lopsided on her face but before removing them, he took out his scroll to take a picture.

“She won’t get mad, will she?”

No one answered him.

“That’s okay, she doesn’t have to know,” he whispered, holding the scroll close to his chest as he left the tent.

He grabbed his journal and found one of the leftover boulders in front of the bridge to sit on. There was still plenty of daylight left.

“Dear Caleb,” he began writing, “You would be amazed at what Willow is capable of—of what we are capable of. Today I managed to utilize ice and fire glyph combinations to help her build a bridge over the river…”

Chapter Text

Chapter 19 – Vacation: Part I

A routine evolved as they went along the perimeter. They would fly for a couple of days and then they would camp for a few days more. Every so often they would walk and occasionally take a break or two to gaze out into the horizon. The Boiling Sea was so much vaster than they could have ever imagined.

Willow kept her strength up and pushed on for her family and friends back home. She was doing this for them so she could go back to them. She needed to be there to protect them or rescue them, whatever it turns out to be when they finally make it back. She hoped they were okay. She hoped her parents weren’t overwhelmed with worry.

Hunter was motivated by Willow and almost Willow alone. He did care about the life on the Boiling Isles but he knew for a fact that most witches didn’t care for him. Going back meant facing Belos. Going back meant admitting his mistakes and owning up to them. He owed anyone who was hurt by the Emperor’s Coven so much more than his apologies and he winced every time the thought would come up. Would he choose to go back if it weren’t for the fact that Willow would be by his side upon their return? He honestly wasn’t sure.

It had been almost 6 months since they started trekking the perimeter and they still had yet to see any evidence of where they came from. They hadn’t even made a complete circle. The first couple of months they were convinced wherever they were was an island of some kind but now? Neither of them wanted to admit how lost they really felt.

They had gotten good at the survival thing though, Hunter had to admit they were a decent team.

Today they were starting a long overdue “vacation” from their traveling. Yes they would take breaks periodically but they needed a week to rest this time and some extra time in the shade. Hunter and Willow both were almost against it but their palismen insisted there was no way they were going to continue to fly if they didn’t get more than 3 good night sleeps in a row. 

A couple of days ago they settled on an area to build camp and immediately started setting it up.

“What if,” Willow half-smiled, “now hear me out—“

Hearing those words sparked Hunter’s skepticism faster than usual.

“What if we built our own hot springs?”

He stared at her, and then gestured towards the cliff. Flapjack also shared in being perplexed.

“We can’t go in the Boiling Sea, it would kill us—“

“Speak for yourself,” he shrugged with a smirk.

“Okay, grim-swimmer, no need to brag! I was just saying it would be a nice way to actually relax.”

“So what you’re actually suggesting is a bathtub?” Hunter asked. “Why don’t you just make a bowl out of clay like you usually do—but bigger?”

“Maybe I will,” Willow huffed, and then marched out closer to the forest’s edge. Hunter watched her until she turned around and shouted at him, “That’s actually a smart idea, thanks!”

“No problem,” he chuckled, and looked at Flapjack who was sitting on his shoulder. He chirped curiously.

“I don’t think there is anything out there that can help me ‘relax’. I have two moods, Flapjack. Tired or Anxious.” He sighed. “Or both.”

His palisman fluttered away in disagreement and Hunter rolled his eyes. “I wish I could feel differently but if Willow is going to use this as her alone time… I don’t know.” He looked up at the horizon. “The closest I feel to calm is when her head is on my shoulders or when she hugs me in her sleep!”

He blinked. Flapjack had left his presence to join Clover, who was by their tent. I guess this is my alone time, too, huh?

Hunter exhaled. He walked over to sit closer by the edge. There were a couple of boulders he could climb up and sit on to watch the horizon ahead of him. As soon as he made his way up there he looked behind him and saw Willow hard at work. She was almost done firing her tub. He smiled and then turned back to face the sea. He took off his boots and then carefully removed the new gloves that he and Willow managed to spell-weave together a couple of months ago under his boots so they wouldn’t fly away. He stretched out his arms and legs to feel the breeze pass through his fingers and then sat a bit closer to the edge so his feet could dangle. There were wafts of cool air and then hot salty air that passed through. It didn’t smell great but it wasn’t that bad. He had gotten used to it.

He pulled out a small sheet of paper from his pocket that had a plant glyph inscribed and tapped it lightly on the rock. If he was going to lie out here for a bit he was going to need some kind of shade. He learned the hard way his skin burned incredibly easily with no clouds about.

“I can do this, right?” he asked, looking down at his hands. He took a deep breath, counted to four, and then let it out. “I can be alone… with my thoughts…”

--

“It almost looks spa-ready, don’t you think?” Willow looked over for Clover’s approval but they were not there. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead and walked over to the camp. The palismen were napping in the sun by the tent. She glanced around for Hunter but he didn’t appear nearby.

“I thought we talked about this,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. Going off alone without mentioning where you’re going was not really in either of their best interests. She scanned the area and her eyes softened when she looked up. A strange plant-like structure was on top of a couple of large rocks near the edge.

“Hunter?” she asked below, when she had reached the rocks.

He didn’t answer.

“I’m coming up—oh,” she smiled. He was passed out and drooling slightly. “I’m doing this for Flapjack, okay?” she said, pulling out her scroll and snapping a picture. Without even looking she put it back in her pocket and sat down next to him under the shade he made with the plant glyphs.

“I’m glad most of the nightmares have stopped,” she said softly, and gently stroked his head. He twitched so Willow put her hand back in her lap, not wanting to stir him. She tried to look away from him, to stare out into the horizon but that was getting harder and harder to do knowing there was nothing out there.

She tapped her toes back and forth after she brought her knees up and held them. “I wish Gus was here,” she said, resting her chin on her knees. “And Luz, too. I just think I miss Gus a lot more today for some reason. He always had a way of making you feel less alone.”

“That’s because he could literally make multiple illusions of himself,” Hunter slurred, cringing at the light peeking through the shade.

Willow felt her body stiffen at his voice but watching Hunter shield his eyes with both of his arms made her laugh. He smiled under his arms, feeling his cheeks get warm.

“I miss him too,” he said, sitting up. “I don’t know if I could say the same for the human but—“

Willow elbowed him.

“What? We were never friends. Plus I know her girlfriend hates me after what happened at Eclipse Lake! I don’t have to miss her,” he mumbled, and then sat his chin on his knees too.   

“She wants to be your friend, though.”

“Blight?”

“No, Luz!” she laughed. “She is determined to become everyone’s friend.”

“That makes me pretty much a nobody to her, then.”

Willow stared at him.

He looked down, remembering the moment he and Luz took down Kikimora—for her to rescue the palismen and for him to take them. He did find her unbridled enthusiasm and positivity to be a bit irritating but if the circumstances were different, maybe they could have been friends. For now, she was just another person he owed an apology to whenever they managed to return.

“Do you think… if things were different, would we have been friends?” his voice wobbled. “If I was just another student at Hexside instead of the Golden Guard?”

“I don’t know,” she grimaced. “You’re kind of a know-it-all, maybe you would have been friends with Amity?”

He scoffed at that, and she snickered. “I really don’t know, though. I used to be her friend, remember? And we’re working on being friends again. You might have been in the class ahead of us, maybe you would have been friends with the other Blights.”

Hunter shuddered.

“I’m only teasing. A little bit. They’re not that bad, anyway. Not anymore.”

He watched her shift her position, crossing her legs. She glanced at him and her cheeks were suddenly very warm. She looked away and started to fiddle with one of her braids.

“I’m glad we are friends now,” he said, carefully resting his head on her shoulder, praying this choice was not a mistake.

Willow was a little surprised at his gesture but she smiled and leaned her head on his.

“Me too, Hunter.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 20 - Vacation: Part II

That night they huddled by the campfire not saying too much. It was a long day and they had the rest of the week to do whatever they felt like doing that wasn’t trekking across this titan-forsaken island.

“I know you’ve been keeping track in your head this whole time, but you started writing down the days now, right?”

“So?”

“Well, what was today?” Willow asked.

Hunter got up to get his journal and opened to the first set of pages where he had been tallying. His knees felt weak when he finished counting it up.

“It’s been almost a year,” his voice cracked. “Almost a year, total.”

It wasn’t good or bad news, it was just news. So why did her stomach feel so nauseous after hearing that? A year? So much could change in a year.

“In three days it will be exactly… a year.”

Willow broke out of her trance and looked at Hunter as he lost his balance, crumpling in front of her.

“I’m sorry, Willow,” he leaked in a crushed voice.

“It’s not your fault.”

“No, not—I know that. It’s not that,” he said, not wanting to meet her eyes.

“Then…what is it, exactly?” she asked, hesitant to reach for his hand.

“I know we have to go back, we have to find a way back,” he said, getting up. “We can’t give up, but--”

He let go of her hand and felt himself shrink in front of her.

“When are we going to accept that we are stuck here…forever?”

A sharp wind gusted between them. Willow felt her eyes hot with tears starting to form.

“It’s been a year, Willow. Is this an island or a continent? We have no idea where we are—“

“Not true,” she replied, stifling the breaking in her voice. “We know that’s the Boiling Sea.”

“It’s a boiling sea, who knows if it’s the Boiling—“

“What are we supposed to do, then? Hunter? Wallow in self-pity until someone hugs us and says everything is going to be all right when we know there’s nobody else here?”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks now.

He didn’t want to do this. He hated himself for upsetting her. He hated arguing with her. All she asked was how long they had been there. What he wanted to tell her was that he secretly hoped they’d never find their way back, that he could just spend the rest his days with her and her alone. He couldn’t though. It was selfish. It was horribly and utterly selfish. It was as dark as any of Belos’ goals and if he were to admit it all out loud it would mean they one in the same. That he was just as selfish as his “uncle”.

Willow had real family and friends back home. She would always have people to return to. She made him promise to not abandon her when they reached the edge—did she ask him that knowing he would be left behind in the end? They’re friends now, sure—but they were barely friends when this all started. She didn’t have to stay friends with him.

“I can’t accept we’re stuck here forever,” Willow said with her voice slightly shaken, “but I do understand that we might be here a lot longer than we bargained for.

“It doesn’t mean we should just give up.”

Hunter nodded stiffly, looking down at where he dropped his journal. It was opened to a random page he had already written in and seeing the first few words caused his face to flush deep scarlet.

Willow followed his gaze but he jumped in front of the book before she could see it.

“You’re right,” he yelped. “You’re right.” Sweat dripped down his brow.

She met his eyes, looking for honesty but found…distrust. She didn’t mind he kept most of his journal private but there was obviously something important he was hiding from her. Disappointed in her friend, she called for Clover.

“I’m going to go hang out in one of the trees for a while,” she declared softly. “I’ll come down when I don’t feel like being alone anymore.”

Hunter watched her wipe the tears from her cheek as she flew off. He turned around and fell to his knees, slamming his fists in the dirt next to the opened journal.

“Dear Caleb,” it read, “I don’t think we have access to any kind of oracle magic here but…I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life here, with her.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 21 - Vacation: Part III

Willow sat against the trunk, petting Clover in her arms. They were buzzing softly, feeling a little worried and confused.

If her parents were here, she was sure they would know what to say. She longed for their guidance. She briefly glanced down at the campsite. Hunter was face-down in the dirt with Flapjack tugging at his hair.

Her heart ached. She felt a deep sense of pity for him, he didn’t have any parents to miss—the only parental figure he had was the Emperor. Who was evil. Who definitely was planning to kill him next chance he got. Oh, titan. Belos definitely would have wanted posters put up all over Bonesborough of him and her, but it’s been a year. Would he have…would he have made another grimwalker at this point? She shivered.

She knew Hunter was afraid of going back. She was too. She just could not comprehend the idea of forfeiting to this place. That would be admitting defeat; that would mean allowing Belos to win. How could he, of all people, think that was okay?

And wasn’t he at least curious? Caleb and Elizalyn may have lived some 400 years ago but their child lived on, right? What if they started a family too? They could find their—Hunter could actually have the family he never knew he had all along. Wouldn’t he want to meet them?

And what about Willow? Was she just a “distraction”, like Belos said? Hunter wanted her to run away, he didn’t plan on running away with her. He didn’t—

Willow bit her lip. Her thoughts were running wild and it wasn’t helping. She looked down at the campsite again. Hunter was now lying face-up with his journal open upside-down covering his face. Flapjack was resting on top of it. She stifled a small laugh. She felt ready to go back down.

--

Hunter heard Willow’s feet touch the ground by his head and Flapjack fluttered out of the way. He slid the book down so he could see her looking down at him.

“I’m sorry,” he muffled through the pages.

“I’m sorry too.”

“I wasn’t trying to destroy every last hope we have, I just—“

“I understand where it was coming from, you don’t have to explain—“

“But I do,” he said firmly.

Willow offered her hand to help him up and he took it instantly. Once he was standing, he dusted off his clothes and then took a small step forward so there was little space between them.

“There has been something on my mind that I am deeply ashamed of and it just hit really hard after tallying up the days,” he said, fiddling with his hands as he spoke. Willow wanted to hold them but she didn’t want to startle him so she held back. He looked up to meet her eyes which were wide with worry. He took a deep breath. “I want—I would rather spend eternity here with you than to ever go back to the Boiling Isles.”

He flinched immediately, closing his eyes, waiting for any kind of response—but Willow stood there, still processing what he just said. Still with his eyes closed he continued, “It’s stupid and selfish of me to think that, cowardly, even, but here? It’s different. With you everything is different—and if we go back, what will I even have to go back to? It’s been a year. No one cares about me in the castle, no one has known me long enough from Hexside to care about me now—but you?” he cried, “You’ll go back to your parents. To Gus. To Luz. Titan, even the Blights—and—“

“And you.”

“What?” he asked, voice splintering.

Willow took his hands in hers and repeated, “and you.”

She waited for his breathing to slow down a little to continue.

“I’m not going to scold you for thinking my friends aren’t your friends right this second, but you know after we take down Belos together I’m not just going to forget about you, right?”

Hunter finally opened his eyes.

“…Really?”

Willow’s grip tightened around his hands which caused him to yelp.

“Sorry,” she said, loosening her hold. “It’s just, for such a ‘self-centered’ thought you’re really not giving yourself enough credit. You have a lot more to live for on the Boiling Isles than you seem to think. Don’t you remember your promise? From before?”

Hunter was quiet for a moment. He had to give her some credit too—she knows they could be stuck here for a long time—even if they were stuck there for decades she would still have faith in the people back home to embrace them upon their return. He may not be able to muster up that kind of hope now but it doesn’t have to stop him from trying.

“Can I ask you to make a promise to me, then?”

She looked into his eyes. This year she had asked him to promise her several things, even silly things—but he hardly ever asked the same of her. Even on the Boiling Isles she did this but the only time he made any kind of request like that was when he asked her to run.

She blinked, still staring into his pleading eyes. He was worn-out, but his question was genuine.

“I’m listening.”

Hunter let out the breath he was holding in and fought every urge he had to break eye contact with her. He had to ask her.

“We’re going to finish walking this perimeter—however long it takes—and if we make it back to your bridge without finding anything, will you—“ He bit his lip. “Will you promise to go back with me to the palistrom wood—“

“We already agreed to do that, didn’t we?”

He swallowed and his ears felt extremely hot. “You made me promise to help you raise those vicious chickens, which is insane, mind you—so I think it’s only fair I ask you to promise to help me build-a-house-or-make-a-home or whatever, for the both of us together—NOT THAT I MEAN IT LIKE THAT—I mean—it doesn’t mean we’d be giving up at that point it’s just if we’ve already turned every stone there’s no point in wandering the endless forest like we’re—“

But Hunter did not finish his rambling request; he wasn’t able to. Willow could have probably let him go on for more than a few minutes but the more he went on the faster he spoke and his words became increasingly difficult to understand. She got the gist of it from the first few words and as he continued her heart beat faster than it ever had before.

Without letting go of his hands, she stood on her toes and cut him off with a kiss.

At first, Hunter froze. It felt like time had suddenly stopped, like this was a hazy dream he was meant to wake up from. Willow leaned in closer, pressing her kiss more firmly which warmed his entire body, even down to his toes.

He melted. He melted and kissed her back.

As delicately as he could, he slipped his hands out from his gloves that were still in Willow’s grasp. His fingers enveloped themselves into her hair with his palms cradling her face which felt as flushed as he was. His hands felt rough on her soft skin but he held her so gently she barely noticed. He tried to bring her in even closer but then she giggled into the side of his mouth. He couldn’t help but grin back at her but he wasn’t patient enough for an explanation. He kissed her a second time, then her cheeks and nose, and then her lips again. Willow couldn’t suppress her laughter.

“You just—you just slipped your hands right out!” she laughed, raising up his gloves that she was still holding. “I don’t know why I’m finding that so funny but it just is—“

“I can…put them back on?” he asked, letting his hands fall away.

Willow saw his concerned face and simply dropped them.

“That won’t be necessary,” she said, and reached for his hands and placed them on her cheeks as they were before. His face went back to a dopey grin.

“You know, you never let me finish—“

“I promise,” she vowed, and his beaming face softened.

Maybe Hunter would be able to relax this week after all.

--

(edit: added bonus doodles)

Chapter Text

Chapter 22 – Waiting it Out

—flashback—

“Okay, but I am pretty sure Eda’s house is built from palistrom wood—“

“What makes you say that?”

“When Luz first invited us over and showed us around—the walls were literally breathing. The house itself is alive!”

Hunter thought about it for a moment.

“Doesn’t she have a …bird tube..demon..thing, that’s attached to the house though?”

“Hooty?” she asked. “I’ve thought about that too but he can still separate himself from the house, I don’t think he IS the house… well, maybe. I don’t know!”

Willow plopped onto the rug in her room and rested her head against her bookshelf. Hunter was still sitting on the floor against her bedframe when Flapjack tugged on a strand of his hair.

“Okay, okay! Yes, I’ll show her—“

Willow’s ears perked up. She watched Hunter pull an old book from his bag and when their eyes met his cheeks suddenly felt warm. She was watching him so keenly it almost made him feel uneasy—no one had ever paid him this much attention, he barely knew what to do with it. When he walked her home from flyer derby practice today he didn’t expect to be invited inside but he brought one of his books with him just in case. He didn’t expect to spend time with her in her room again but he allowed himself to at least be optimistic about it. He also didn’t expect her parents to not be home that day so whether she left her door open or not—they were alone. Together. He definitely didn’t expect that.

“Is that a book from the castle library?”

“Not exactly, but it’s one that I found and have held onto for a long time. It’s on different types of wild magic, very particular on elemental magic from the Savage Ages which I think is pretty cool—and there is a chapter on palistrom wood that is not like any of the other books I have—I thought maybe—maybe you’d like to see it,” he said, feeling his face flush more deeply when he saw her enthusiasm.

“Will you show me?”

Hunter nodded and opened the book on the floor so they could both see the pages at the same time. Willow crawled over and laid on her stomach as he turned the pages.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it—Eda does know a lot about palistrom wood magic—or at least, she should. Luz told us that her father was a palisman-carver—that her family comes from a long line of palisman-carvers. Maybe we can go to her house to confirm or deny our theories.”

“Now that you mention it, I vaguely remember hearing that about Lilith…when she was in the Emperor’s Coven. I’ve never asked her about it though.”

“Oh, look here!”

Hunter stopped his train of thought and glanced at the page she was pointing to but then got distracted by how much she leaned into him with her reach. Why was she leaning against him just to point to a sentence in the book? She didn’t have to lean on him—

“It says, ‘Although not advisable today due to their scarcity, many witches have used palistrom to build their homes, either partly or in full. In doing so though, whoever lives in said house must tend to their home or else the wood will begin to turn against the witch and may end up consuming whatever is inside until it can revert back to being the tree it once was.’

“Wow, that’s—“

“That’s why wild magic is considered dangerous,” Hunter said, cutting her off and closing the book.

She blinked.

“You still like learning about it though, don’t you?”

He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to bring up Belos’ curse without revealing too much.

“I’m trying to find something to help with my uncle’s… problem. There might be some wild magic that could help, it’s just—“ he bit his lip and averted his gaze to the floor, “he’s not interested in hearing about it unless—“

He stopped and Willow saw him tremble. His expression—he looked afraid.

“I’m technically not allowed to have my own palisman,” he said, breaking the silence. “I have to hide Flapjack when I’m in the castle.”

Her eyes hardened. Flapjack found his way onto Hunter’s shoulder and chirped worriedly.

“When I—when the human took back the palismen, this little guy wouldn’t leave me alone almost the entire time. I don’t even know why! They all looked so scared—“

Clover nodded in agreement, and shuddered next to Willow’s knee.

“—Scared of me. And then Kikimora got up and I thought as long as Kikimora didn’t bring them back, maybe Belos wouldn’t punish me too harshly for failing the mission, and besides—Luz technically saved my life and I owed her at least that much—but Flapjack showed up again in my room! I told him he shouldn’t be here but…”

Flapjack chirped again with some enthusiasm.

“But he chose you,” Willow said.

Hunter nodded.

Willow brought Clover up to her cheek to nuzzle them and they buzzed affectionately in response.

“Well, if it wasn’t for you, Caleb—I wouldn’t have Clover,” she said. “Now that I’m thinking about it, if it wasn’t for you, technically we wouldn’t have a flyer derby team.”

Hunter did not feel like this was something to be proud of—not when all he felt was guilt about it—especially after getting them kidnapped with their palismen and then having to stop Darius. It felt wrong to hear her say that to him.

“Can I see the book again?”

Brushing off his hesitation he handed it to her and then lied down to look up at the ceiling. It felt like abomination goo was bubbling in his stomach. Flapjack settled comfortably in his shirt and Hunter instinctively stroked his back. How could something so small feel so heavy on his chest?

“So it says here, while palismen have souls—palistrom homes embody something more like a spirit. It doesn’t explain the difference though, which is frustrating.”

“Maybe the head of the Oracle Coven could explain.”

Willow shivered. The only oracle witch she knew personally was Amity’s mother.

“I don’t know, with wild magic there is a lot of overlap… maybe Luz could ask the Bat Queen.”

Hunter’s brain short-circuited and he stared at her.

“Oh!” she jumped, remembering yes, she was talking to her friend… but he was still the Golden Guard. “Did Flapjack tell you how he and the others came to Hexside?”

He shook his head and eyed his palisman. The cardinal remained quiet.

“We could ask Eda too, of course, she might actually know more—“

“Why the Bat Queen?” he asked. “How does…how can the human know the Bat Queen?”

“You know how Luz is, she makes friends with everybody,” she laughed nervously.

Maybe he did underestimate the human after all. She might be over-trusting and gullible but if she was actually on good terms with the Bat Queen…that’s impressive. But why would that have anything to do with the palismen?

“Oh, also, look here!” Willow exclaimed, practically jumping on top of him, pointing to another page of the chapter. “It says that palistrom wooded areas can bring an entire forest to life—if you plant anything else around them, they are sure to grow more fervently and lush, guaranteed!”

While Willow had successfully shifted Hunter’s mind off of the Bat Queen, she did so by ignoring his personal space. He sat on the floor, leaning as far away from Willow’s face as possibly could but her eyes were impossible to avoid. His face felt hot but the rest of his body was frozen.

The second she realized just how close they were, Willow jumped away and stood on the other side of the room, laughing more nervously than before.

“I—I’m—I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, sorry—“

“No sweat,” he heard his voice crack. He was definitely sweating.

“Also, my dads will be home soon and you probably need to get back to the castle—“

Hunter nodded but his body remained on the floor. Flapjack nudged him but he couldn’t swat him away.

Willow had felt embarrassed before, but never embarrassed like this. Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he getting up? They just started becoming friends, why did it feel like she had fairy flies in her stomach? Why was he looking at her like that?

--

(back to present)

Willow chuckled at the memory. She had gotten so distracted keeping the Bat Queen, a palisman herself, safe from the emperor that she paid little attention to what she was actually doing. Yes, the Golden Guard had started walking her home from practice, fairly often in fact, but he still reported back to Belos. She was comfortable enough with Clover and the rest of the team’s palismen in his presence but she did not feel comfortable outing the Bat Queen’s secret.

When they return to the Boiling Isles, perhaps they could pay her a visit to tell her about this place. She wondered if…if the Bat Queen came from this place.

She looked over at Hunter who was tending to their new campsite, testing out a couple of glyph combinations to create a stronger shelter, at least for the next couple of days. Early that morning they noticed a storm in the distance that was headed in their direction. It looked like a rainstorm they were more familiar with, the kind of rain that came with the Boiling Sea.

They set up their camp more inland so they at least had partial shelter from the trees but it took some magic to add a bit more protection.

Seeing Hunter succeed at using the glyphs made her smile, especially when he knew she was watching. He’d look up for her acknowledgement or approval only to see she had been cheering him on the whole time. He would get a little flustered and suddenly freeze but eventually he’d be able to jump back into what he was doing.

That is what reminded her of when she had brought up the Bat Queen. Oh, titan. That was the first time she was close enough to kiss him but a couple of weeks ago she actually did.

Her heart fluttered.

She kissed him and he kissed her back.

What would the flyer derby team say? Gus?

What about Luz?

She giggled and pulled out her scroll. Pulling up her messages with Gus, she swiped through to see the several sent but not received messages she had written to him since she had been here.

Willow hoped that somehow Gus was receiving them on the Boiling Isles so he’d know she was okay. She hoped he’d share the messages with Luz and that they could all speculate what she and Hunter were really up to, wherever they are. Not that they were up to anything—Willow’s face flushed. Titan.

She missed her friends.

“Willow!” Hunter called, “Everything looks secure now. The boiling rain is almost here, we should probably get inside.”

Breaking out of her trance, she turned around and called Clover to follow her.

--

After putting out the campfire and closing up their tent, Hunter glanced at Willow. She was laying down in the newer version of the moss-lychee cotton bed she had practiced spell-weaving on their ‘vacation’ and was swiping through her scroll with a small smile on her face.

Without saying anything, he lied down next to her and Flapjack snuggled between them.

Willow lowered her scroll to turn and look at him. He looked disappointed.

“…what is it?”

“I thought you were looking at pictures—was it not okay for me to see..?”

Willow brought her hands to her face and laughed in relief.

“I thought—never mind,” she said. “I wasn’t looking at pictures, um, I was just writing a message to Gus. I know it’s stupid because he won’t see it—“

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Hunter interrupted.

Her expression softened.

“Maybe it’s pointless but it’s not stupid,” he shrugged.

She elbowed him.

“If it makes you feel better,” he added, “I write to Caleb in the book you gave me. If anyone is writing something that’s actually pointless, it’s me.”

Willow’s eyes bore into his and he suddenly felt a pang of regret for sharing. Who writes to someone who has been dead for who knows how long? Why did he even write to anyone—

“Hey,” she said, breaking his spiral. “I’m sorry for looking at you like I think you’re crazy. I was just a little taken aback.”

“Why?” he asked, folding one of his arms over the other across his chest.

“It’s beautiful.”

He blinked.

“I’m not poetic, I’m not sure if you can call what I write, beautiful—“

“It is poetic, though!”

“How do you mean?”

Caleb was… is a part of you, whether you like it or not. There’s nothing you can do to change that. He’s family you never knew you had until now. I’m glad the book is helping you connect with him.”

“He doesn’t write back, Willow.”

The sound of the rain thundered around them, splashing against the walls of their tent.

“He can never write back,” he said.

She shot up.

“Is there a reason you don’t want me to happy that you’re writing to him?”

“I—err—um, no?”

“Do you not want to write to him?”

“No!”

“So who cares if he doesn’t write back?” she cried, almost laughing.

“I don’t know, it just seemed stupid—“

“Well, it’s not. Maybe he didn’t quite start out that way, but Caleb was a good human. Even a good witch—I mean, he carved Flapjack, didn’t he?”

Hunter nodded, looking at his palisman who had fallen asleep.

“Have you thought about his son?”

Hunter felt the air go still.

“He and Elizalyn might have great-great-great-grandchildren living on the Boiling Isles.”

He nodded stiffly.

“Did Flapjack,” Willow said, lowering her voice, “ever mention Elizalyn’s family name?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered softly. “And I never asked.”

“She came from a family of palismen carvers.”

“And?”

“Well, that’s a trade! Trades are usually passed down. And something super rare these days, at least, on the Boiling Isles.”

“I know, but—“

“It means you probably wouldn’t have to search very hard to find his family—your family.”

Hunter sat up too, glancing at his book in the corner of tent.

“Even if we did find them…it doesn’t automatically make me a part of the family. They could be very different from how Elizalyn was for all we know.” Hunter wrapped his arms around his knees.

“Maybe it’s Clawthorne.”

He turned his head.

“Excuse me?”

Willow bumped her head into his shoulder. “You heard me,” she chuckled. “You could be related to the Owl Lady!”

Hunter’s face felt as if it was burning up. Was that actually possible? Titan, if it was, there would no way he could approach the Owl Lady about it, or her sister—he would never hear the end of it from the human either—

“If it makes it easier,” Willow suggested, “instead of bringing it up to Eda first, maybe you could talk to her father. He’s more familiar with palisman-carving—at least, that’s what Luz told me. Maybe they have something passed down that could prove—“

“She had nothing, Willow,” Hunter cut in. “Elizalyn might have had her son, but there was nothing else. Belos killed her parents, she had to abandon her home—she didn’t even go back to the place where she and Caleb—“

Hunter couldn’t continue; it felt as if he was about to choke.

A mumbled peep blended in with the sound of the rain and Flapjack lazily flapped his way between them.

“It’s possible there’s a chance Grackles is still around—if that’s the case, oh titan—you’d be able to learn so much!”

Willow’s eyes gleamed. It was possible she wanted to know more about Elizalyn than Hunter but it was hard for her to understand why.

Hunter sighed. It would be incredible if they found Elizalyn’s palisman but he had a feeling that Belos had already gotten to him, probably before his time. It was possible one of the other Golden Guards found him and brought him to Belos.

He knew Willow was trying to help him find solace in the idea of returning home. That there was something worth going back to, more than just herself and her friends—their friends, she insisted. He did find peace in the idea of returning with her at his side but there was still the smallest inkling in his mind that maybe it was all a trick.

He had been lied to his entire life by someone he trusted, someone he thought cared for him, more than cared for him—and all along he was a pawn meant to be discarded when he was no longer deemed useful.

Willow reached for his hand and wrapped it in hers.

“You don’t have to find them, you know. When we go back, you can start fresh. You’ll have the chance for a new beginning.”

“You do, though,” he stated. “You want to find them.”

She pet Flapjack with her other hand. “Yes,” she answered. “Elizalyn and Caleb mean something to me now. I feel like what happened to them… is almost happening to us.”

She said the last part of her sentence just under her breath so Hunter barely heard—he did hear, though. Her hand tightened around his as she leaned into him. His mind wandered to one of the days he was with her at her house.

—flashback, continued—

Willow was on top of him, seconds ago, showing him a page from the book he had brought. Her sparkling smile was inches away from his face which apparently made his brain do an entire mind-wipe because as hard as he tried, he could not get his brain to tell his legs to move. He was stuck on her bedroom floor, face fully flushed and limbs blocks of ice.

The only person who had ever gotten so close was the human, Luz, who only got such a chance because he had been knocked out. The difference from that experience, however, was that he was slapped awake.

In this moment he was already awake, very awake, and this witch—who he had been talking to over the last hour about palismen and wild magic—was enthusiastically sharing her ideas with him and—mother titan, too much time had already passed, it was already awkward.

“--my dads will be home soon and you probably need to get back to the castle—“

He looked up at Willow, gaping, who was now standing on the other side of the room by the door. Everything was fine until she—he couldn’t stop staring at her. She was clearly uncomfortable with his lack of response but was it really his fault he couldn’t move? He shook his head, trying to focus.

“Do you need a hand?”

He looked up again and she was standing directly in front him, offering to help him up. He nodded stiffly, but still felt as though his arms were weighed down.

Then she laughed. It was the cutest, sweetest laugh he ever heard come out of her. He looked at her, perplexed, but also in awe. It was obvious she wasn’t laughing at him but—

She bent down to grab both of his hands and pulled him up.

“Can you stand?”

Hunter nodded again.

“Okay, I can show you out,” she said, still holding one of his hands as she guided him out of her bedroom to the front door.

He stood outside on the front porch and before he could turn around to say anything at all—

“Bye then, see you next practice!” Willow squeaked and then shut the door.

His legs suddenly felt like jello and Flapjack transformed into his staff to catch him from falling. It was the first time the thought that Willow possibly meant more to him than just a leader, even more than a friend. When she jumped onto him he didn’t know how to react. When he made it back to his own room he collapsed onto his bed with his head in his hands. He liked being close to her. He never expected them to nerd out over a book together, let alone so closely.

He wanted it to happen again.

He felt the urge to bang his forehead against the wall for letting such a stupid idea slip into his brain. There were no friendships like that in the Emperor’s Coven. That’s not something that was fit for the Golden Guard. That’s not what witches like him were meant to have.

--

(back to present)

Maybe they did share something similar with Elizalyn in Caleb. They both had run away from Belos and they both… they both kissed.

Titan, it was stupid thinking about it. Why did he feel so giddy, it was just a kiss! They didn’t elope. They didn’t—they weren’t expecting a child.

Willow was still resting against him but her grip had relaxed and her breathing was slower. It sounded like she fell asleep. The rain was loud, but it was soothing too. It was the reason that memory came up in the first place because the second he had gotten back to the castle, a loud crack of thunder shook the walls when he walked through the gate. When he got to his room, the boiling rain was pelting down on his window.

All he could think about was in that moment in his room when he was stricken with a sinking guilt for bearing the smallest desire, a single hope, that he, a half-a-witch with an annoying voice, could have a chance with a witch like her.

And here he was, due to unforeseen unfortunate circumstances, not only sharing a tent with her but she was asleep in his arms. He wanted to laugh and cry all at once.

Hunter pressed a small kiss to her forehead and then removed her glasses. She began to stir so he lifted her head gently and laid her down on the moss bed.

Willow liked talking about the things they would do when they’d make it back but he didn’t like admitting that all it did was make him anxious. He said he would try to think more positively though, so he tried. He started off with small things.

Before anyone else would get any kind of ideas about them for being gone so long he wanted to talk to Gus first. Gus was protective of Willow and her closest friend. If he knew the truth from the very beginning it would be a lot easier for everyone to accept it.

After they find Willow’s parents he wanted to beg for their forgiveness for taking their daughter away from them for so long. He had to apologize to a lot of people but they needed to be the first.

He didn’t want to think about taking down the Emperor or asking the Owl Lady if he could stay with her—he wanted to jump ahead to the idea that maybe the human had somehow already defeated Belos and everything was now at peace on the Boiling Isles. He wanted to imagine being able to go to the library to read whatever he wanted. He wanted to imagine finding the family of oracle demons that descended from the one who married Caleb and Elizalyn and asking if one of them could—titan, why was he getting flustered? Willow was asleep. He was allowed to think these thoughts by himself, wasn’t he?

Maybe he was just getting a little too ahead of himself.

Yes, they kissed. Thinking about kissing her again plastered a goofy smile on his face that he couldn’t hide. But marrying Willow? Spending the rest of his life with her? Thinking about that made him feel like lightning buzzed through his veins. It made his chest feel heavy and light all at once. It scared him more than anything but it also delighted him more than anything.

How old were they now? It had been over a year. He let out a small laugh. They were still teenagers.

But he knew Willow had at least given it a small moment’s thought when she had talked about her desire to be a mother. It was still just a ‘what-if’ in her mind; she told him not to overthink it.

Could he even be a father if he wanted to? There was so much about being a grimwalker he didn’t know.

She had said he’d make a good father, but he was uncertain.

Now was not the time to let that anxiety set in so he scooted himself closer to Willow who was fast asleep. As long as she was nearby, he felt at ease. Hunter laid his head down and took in a deep breath and let out a long exhale.

They’d wait out the rain and then keep moving—it’s all they could do. For now.

--

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I'm crying because @marcadernorabiscado on tumblr gifted me these drawings inspired by this fic and I wanted to share them with you too with their permission:

Hunter with his heart eyes (brb, kicking my feet giggling at how cute he is it's adorable) and then some character designs of one of their future children (possibly the eldest daughter) and I have no words-I love it so much! It feels like the personality of both Hunter and Willow are captured so well and the style is so cute :3 so THANK YOU  it's amazing, I appreciate it so much!

if you want to share art/ideas/questions (literally whatever) with me on tumblr about TOH or ML, you are welcome to! My blog is @stuckinamok. 

another edit-more doodles (by me):

Chapter Text

Chapter 23 – The Lighthouse (1/3)

It had been over 2 and a half years since they started their journey along the perimeter, which meant it had been well over 3 years since they made their arrival to this lost land. They never gave it a name—both Hunter and Willow felt it would be strange naming it, even after all this time. They were determined not to lose track of the time they spent but calling this place anything meant their return home feel less real.

Their survivor skills had significantly advanced but this also meant their traveling time had slowed down. Willow’s talent for spell-weaving plant fibers with animal skin was proving more useful than ever. It also meant that they had been holding onto more items they needed instead of dropping everything to fly.

Hunter had taken on carving bones for future hunting as well as for building their campsites and other things.

Because they would spend more time in one place, it allowed them to also do a little more exploring around each campsite they settled themselves in. Willow had since spell-weaved herself her own journal to take notes in about the botany in the area and the magic surrounding it as well as making a few more for Hunter who would always write much more than she did.

If the water didn’t look especially boiling, they would sometimes take the time to explore the cliff side for signs of other life or anything, really. They were still looking for a way home and they had yet to find any signs of anything—that is, until today.

Every night they’d spend watching the endless horizon but where they had settled the last few days it had been extremely foggy. They could barely see beyond the edge of the cliff so it made sense to settle down for a bit until it cleared.

Willow had woken up earlier than usual and when she put on her glasses after stepping out of the tent she could hardly believe her eyes.

In the distance there was an island and on the island was a lighthouse.

Without waking Hunter or the palismen she ran to the edge to get a better look. The fog had indeed cleared and that island was definitely real. It was a bit further offshore and it was difficult to tell what was at the top (it looked a bit strange) but it was not a tree.

It wasn’t the Boiling Isles of course, but it was something! The sun had barely begun rising so she had to contain herself—she wanted Hunter to see for himself—but only after he slept in. He may not have had many nightmares for the past couple of years but he still barely slept. It was his birthday today, after all.

Well, it was a birthday of sorts. When Hunter had brought it up the first time it came around he felt embarrassed to tell her. He felt ashamed it was something he was holding onto—the day Belos gave him for his birthday. He wasn’t sure if it was actually Caleb’s birthday or the day Belos brought him into existence—and he never did much to celebrate it anyway as he’s mentioned to her before—but he wanted her to know, he wanted it to mean something to her, maybe something more than it ever meant to him.

And it did! She told him so. If he wanted to pick another day to make into his ‘birthday’, he could—but it was okay if he wanted to keep the day Belos had given him. It was his now, after all. No take-backs. He was nineteen now and Willow wondered how many of the Golden Guards, if any, survived that long. She kept the thought to herself but she knew Hunter wondered the same.

She exhaled a long, shaky breath. She would never truly know the torment that plagued him and sometimes she would kick herself for forgetting what he was. It was easy to forget in the moment that he wasn’t an ordinary witch—that he wasn’t a witch at all. It was difficult to comprehend something like that, especially when he didn’t fit in the demon category either. It didn’t bother her, but it worried her. There was so little they both knew about grimwalkers.

He was aging though, and to her, this was positive.

Hunter would jokingly disagree—saying he was looking forward to living forever, living longer than even the Titan himself—and she’d laugh at that.

He was taller now and had some facial hair. He personally found it annoying but Willow thought it looked good on him. She, however, had been the same height since she was twelve. She hadn’t cut her hair though, which was now down to her waist.

The sun made its way just above the horizon line and Willow walked back to check if Hunter had woken up yet.

He hadn’t. Even Flapjack was still asleep next to Clover who’d always sleep in the longest.

Willow smiled and closed the tent.

She loved him.

There was no denying that.

She wanted to tell her parents all about the boy she ran away with, she wanted to tell Luz she had already come up with a few names of their future children (that is, if they had any), she wanted to tell Gus that Hunter wanted him to be their first witness for when they got married—Willow giggled. She only knew this because she had overheard Flapjack muttering a complaint to Clover that Hunter wanted him to be the second witness. She wasn’t sure why but it was very sweet and it made her heart flutter knowing it even crossed his mind.

He loved her.

She wondering if Luz or Amity would be able to understand it—she even wondered if her own parents could understand it. They were older and married so surely they would… but she felt curious and uncertain about it. As of now, there was no one who knew her better than Hunter and there was no one who knew him better than she. When they’d return to the Boiling Isles… they would be returning as different people.

Would Gus even recognize her? Would she… even recognize him?

It made her a little uncomfortable to think about.

She has always struggled with the anxiety of friends leaving her but Gus was different. She knew the moment they’d see each other again there would be no hesitation to embrace one another—it was just… they wouldn’t be going back to the same Boiling Isles that they came from three years ago.

Titan, could Hunter just wake up already? She hating keep these thoughts to herself.

She looked up at the lighthouse and noticed a large winged creature perched at the top.

“That’s new,” she gaped.

--

Hunter shot up, startled awake by a loud shriek and the ground shaking beneath him. Flapjack and Clover were flying around him frantically and after swatting them away he noticed Willow was not by his side. Another screech came from outside which made Hunter’s heart lurch. Willow.

--

He tore open the tent and noticed the fog had cleared. His eyes darted everywhere; both Clover and Flapjack were flying around looking for Willow. Hunter looked straight ahead and noticed Willow’s signature thorny vines splitting across the edge of the cliff. He ran over to see the vines were hanging down but it looked as if they were nearly ripped out of the ground.

Clover frantically buzzed in his face, directing him to Flapjack who was fluttering around a pair of glasses with a cracked lense as well as Willow’s scroll. Hunter’s eyes hardened.

Looking up ahead at the clear sky he caught a glimpse of what Willow had noticed this morning.

A lighthouse.

A lighthouse that had a large feathered creature flying towards it. In its claws was as small figure. He couldn’t make out what or who it was but he didn’t have to.

He knew.

--

The Lighthouse (2/3)

Judging by the curve of the cliff side and using some of the more useful skills he picked up from being in the Emperor’s coven, Hunter estimated the lighthouse was about 10 miles beyond the shore. However, it did appear to be closer to the edge from a cliff side that was up ahead, which was not as easy to determine how far.

He knew he needed to act quickly—he couldn’t assume Willow could get out of this herself no matter how strong she was. He had no idea what that thing was. It could be a gargantuan bird but maybe it was a dragon? It was enormous.

Was it a titan?

The more he let himself spiral the more anxious he got.

Flapjack tugged on a few strands of his hair and his brain bounced back to reality.

“There is no way Willow would just… she’s either knocked out or hurt.” Or worse, his brain added.

“From what I can see that thing made that lighthouse into its nest—or whatever is left of the lighthouse, anyway. It’s difficult to tell, we need to get closer. We need to get closer without it detecting us.”

Clover and Flapjack muttered in agreement, wondering why it even came near them in the first place.

“You have to remember we are still visitors to this place. We may have been here a while now but there is still so much we don’t know. It was extremely foggy when we were approaching this area, we must have invaded its territory. I think we need to fly low along the cliff side, maybe half way between the water and here. Do you think you can do that?”

Flapjack chirped confidently.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Hunter shoved a few pages of drawn glyphs into his bag and took a deep breath. He was going to get her back. He was going to get her back.

--

Willow groggily opened her eyes and winced at the pain exuberating from her shoulder.

Oh.

From both of her shoulders. She could hardly move them at all.

She turned her head, trying to understand her surroundings. Everything was blurry.

Oh.

Her glasses were missing. Crap. This wasn’t good.

She tried moving her legs but they were… incased in something that felt like straw mixed with dried sludge. She couldn’t spin a single spell circle.

This was not good.

--

Hunter was halfway there and saw a large shadow of a second creature fly over the shore. He landed inside of one the large cave entrances that pored through the cliff and watched the creature land on the rocky island where the lighthouse stood.

It had a long, narrow beak that he imagined had several rows of sharp teeth. Its legs were also long and it appeared to have sharp talons at its feet as well as the end of its wings. He could have sworn he saw scales glittering against the sunlight but it was clear it was covered in feathers. Its wingspan was enormous. He definitely wasn’t going to be teasing Willow later about losing against it; it was terrifying.

He watched the creature fly to the top of the lighthouse to drop something from its talons and then flapped its way downward, watching the cliff side behind it.

Hunter swallowed. He was far enough away but if that creature—

It dove into the cliffside out of Hunter’s sight.

His heart was beating extremely fast and he felt legs shaking as he turned around. The cave he stopped in was empty, right?

He did not want to wait around any longer to find out. He reached for his staff and took off. Maybe it was better to fly over top of the edge after all.

--

Willow’s entire body now ached and she was going in and out of consciousness. Her memory of this morning had come back to her but only in fragments.

It was Hunter’s birthday.

She woke up early.

The fog had cleared—there was a lighthouse.

There was a shadow… a shadow of something flying behind or above her—but when she turned around it was too late, she was already airborne. She kicked and she screamed and she tried to get herself back down but the talons that gripped her only gripped tighter, crushing her bones.

Her arms felt weak but her breath felt weaker.

Hunter needed to find her. He would find her.

He had to.

--

—flashback: one year ago—

Hunter and Willow had been sitting quietly by the campfire, watching it crackle and flicker after the sun had already set. They had already eaten and she was holding a small cup of tea in her hands, waiting for it to be cool enough to take a sip. It was a little chilly that night so Hunter wrapped his cloak around the both of them like a blanket.

“Hey,” he whispered into her ear. “I love you.”

A smile crept on her face when she turned to look at him.

“Also,” he added, “I promise not to abandon you at the end of the river—“

“Hunter!” she almost shouted, elbowing him in the side which made him fall off the log they were sitting on, taking his cloak with him. She leaned over to see if he was all right—and he was laughing. Laughing big enough she could see his dimples and the gap between his two front teeth. Yeah, he was fine.

“You know you don’t have to remind me of that anymore, you’ve proven yourself, okay?”

She took a sip of her tea as he got back up to sit next to her again. He was still giggling.

“I love you too,” she grumbled.

Hunter grinned and then leaned into her to kiss her on the cheek. He wrapped his cloak around the both of them again and she returned his cheek kiss, almost reluctantly.

“I know,” he said, and his face softened when he looked at her. “But I really couldn’t leave you—I’d be lost without you.”

“You’re the tracker, not me.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean, then?”

Willow set her tea down so she could hold his hand. She looked down and noticed a slight tremor in his hands. Her eyes widened and she reached for his hand immediately.

“What did you mean?” she repeated, meeting his eyes. Her hand tightened around his, waiting for his answer.

Hunter swallowed. Was this really the right time?

It seemed like there would be no such thing as any ordinary circumstance for them. He didn’t want there to be, if he was being honest. He liked how things were right now. It was just them and everything about it felt extraordinary. Two half-a-witches somehow made whole. That’s what it felt like.

“I—“ he started but stopped when he looked down at her lips.

“Don’t get distracted now,” she chuckled, raising one hand and placing it on his shoulder.

His ears burned. He wasn’t trying to.

“You know I’m not leaving you either, right?”

“I know.”

“We’re in this together.”

“Forever, it seems like,” Hunter said, almost choking back on his choice of words. He didn’t try to save himself on that one though. He straightened up and looked beyond the campfire at the night sky. They couldn’t see the sea from where they were sitting but the sky felt endless.

Willow joined his gaze and adjusted herself so she could rest her head on his shoulder. There were some nights that made forever seem like a haunting fate but tonight was different.

Tonight, forever almost felt like home.

--

(back to present)

By now it was almost mid-day and Hunter had made it to the cliff that was closest to the rocky island that inhabited the lighthouse. Assessing his surroundings it was almost impossible to tell if Willow was inside the cave or inside the lighthouse—he couldn’t make out details from either location which meant he would need to get closer. He could teleport, yes, but that might wake the creatures he hoped were napping in the cliff side. If he did that he would have to quick and deliberate—he needed to know where she was so there would be zero mistakes.

Clover buzzed quietly by his ear and directed his gaze upward to the lighthouse. He couldn’t quite make out what was there, it was still a bit of a distance away.

“Can you… sense that she’s there?”

Clover nodded with concerned eyes.

Hunter sat down where he was to think. It was one thing to rescue to her but they both needed to be able escape and he had no idea what kind of state she was in. She could be hurt—she had to be hurt, otherwise she would have found a way out of this. Or she could be—

“No,” Hunter said to himself firmly. “She’s going to be okay. Clover?”

The palisman perched themselves on his wrist, ready for a command.

“I’ve never teleported this far before, but we need to try to make it one jump so we can get behind the lighthouse. Even if those birds wake up we can’t let them see us, do you understand?”

They nodded but still seemed a bit lost.

“I need you and Flapjack’s help for that,” explained. “I’ve never yielded two palisman staffs at once so I’m honestly not even sure if it will work but—“

Clover transformed and Hunter was now holding two staffs.

“—but we have to try, don’t we?”

--

The Lighthouse (3/3)

—flashback: The Boiling Isles—

“Whoa, Hunter—that was a sick trick move!” Gus yelled from the other side of the field.

Hunter couldn’t help but smirk proudly with the flags he snagged and did another flip in the air, letting Flapjack catch him before speeding up to place the flags on the pole.

Willow crossed her arms, still hovering in the middle of the field. She smiled but shook her head.

“He’s becoming such a show-off.”

Skara flew up and nudged her side with her elbow. “Isn’t that the reason you signed him up for the team anyway?”

“I asked him to join because, yes, he has some sick flying skills—but not because—“

“Here I was thinking you just asked him to come back because he’s cute!” Viney interrupted beneath them, where she had fallen when Hunter snagged her flag.

“Viney!”

“She’s not wrong, he might be kind of a loser but he has this kind of awkward charm—“

“Enough!” Willow ordered by spinning two spell circles, pasting a large leave over each of her teammates’ mouths.

“Is practice over?” Gus asked, with Hunter flying not too far behind him.

“It’s a little early, isn’t it?” Hunter asked before noticing Skara and Viney’s faces. He looked up at Willow, perplexed.

Skara peeled off the leaf about half-way and Viney managed to remove hers completely when Willow sighed.

“We were only teasing, Willow,” Skara said, looking up at her hesitantly.

Gus’ face fell and Hunter remained confused.

“I know,” Willow answered, “but it felt a bit more like ‘we were only teasing Willow’, without the apostrophe. You know, like old times?”

Skara bit her lip.

“I think we should just call it a day,” she said in a dull voice. “See you guys next practice, okay?”

“I’m sorry, Willow—“

“I know. I forgive you, I’m just…I’m tired.”

Skara watched her land gracefully on the field and begin walking away. Gus followed her and Skara sighed.

“I wasn’t trying to be mean, I thought they actually liked—“ Skara’s eyes widened, realizing Hunter was still there. “Um, what I meant to say was—“

“I think she knows you didn’t mean anything cruel by it,” Viney offered. “Willow is quick to forgive but I think when it comes to old wounds it can still be hard for her to deal with.”

“What…did you say to the Captain?”

They both turned to look at Hunter. His facial expression was complex—they couldn’t tell if he was upset or curious.

“It’s complicated, dude—but you don’t have to worry about it,” Viney said, patting him on the back.

“Well, now I am worried so if neither of you explain this I’m just going to ask the Captain herself—“

“DON’T—“ Skara shouted, jumping in front of him, “Please, please don’t do that.”

He raised his eyebrows and frowned.

“It would only upset her more,” Viney explained.

“Trust us on this.”

Hunter did not trust them—but he also did not approach Willow about the issue—at least not today. Gus was there for her and she would be there next practice.

He’d see her then.

--

(back to present)

Like lightning, Hunter streaked across the sky, making the middle of the day brighter than it had ever been. The sound of his teleportation echoed around the island like tectonic plates had just shifted, disturbing the slumber of the beasts below.

He almost cheered after successfully teleporting to the lighthouse in one jump but covered his mouth.

The roof of the lighthouse had been ripped off and whatever light that existed inside it before was no longer there. Instead, in its place, was an enormous egg.

Clover frantically flew around looking for Willow and Hunter felt paralyzed. He didn’t see her anywhere and all that was in front of him was an enormous egg. An egg!

Flapjack followed the other palisman as soon as he felt Hunter was steady on the balcony of the lighthouse and had a firm grip on the railing. His fists clenched around the railing while watching his palisman fly away. Why couldn’t he move?

--

Willow’s eyelids felt heavy, as if they were the cause of what was weighing her down. She forced them open to see what in titan’s name was yanking on her hair and recognized a familiar blurry red blorb. A second blorb buzzed by her cheek, making desperate high-pitched noises.

“G-guys?” she rasped, but her consciousness abandoned her again, even as Flapjack pecked at her head.

Clover flew back to retrieve Hunter who was still frozen at the railing. They almost considered him stinging him into action but he blinked, shook his head, and took one step forward.

His knees felt weak.

Mother titan, now was not the time for this!

Flapjack’s loud warbling sounded muddled.

“One step at a time, Hunter…just do the next right thing,” he said to himself. He took another step forward and grabbed a side of one of the crumbling walls. He swung one leg over and then got himself inside where the egg took up majority of the space. It was an egg, right?

Flapjack chirped again but this time Hunter could hear it more distinctly. His palisman was underneath.

“Captain?” his voice creaked, as he forced his legs to move.

The little cardinal was at the entrance of a spiraling staircase, chirping down at the figure tangled in a mixture of dry twigs and mud. Taking a couple of steps downward he could see that the mud was filled nearly too the top—Willow was trapped from her waist down.

Clover and Flapjack were pecking away at the mud when they all heard a loud screech outside the lighthouse.

Think, Hunter, THINK!

His palisman jumped away from the mud and tugged at his bag.

Right, the glyphs! But first—

“Willow, can you hear me?” he asked as he bent down, closer to her ear.

She groaned and then in a small voice, whimpered, “Can’t…see…”

Hunter let out a sigh of relief but he needed to get a move on. “Just hold on,” he whispered.

He planted a soft kiss to her forehead and selected a couple of glyphs to break down the mud. He place them face down and tapped them quickly, watching the structure fall apart right under his feet.

“Flapjack!”

His palisman transformed instantly and he was able to catch himself, but when he reached for Willow’s arms, she didn’t reach back. The color drained from his face.

Everything inside the lighthouse was caving in, turning into a soup and he just witnessed her slip under the surface.

--

--flashback: around 2 years ago--

“Is dating even allowed in the Emperor’s Coven?”

Hunter felt his stomach drop.

“E-excuse me?”

“In the Emperor’s Coven—were there rules about dating?”

Willow was a little preoccupied with some spell-weaving she was practicing but Hunter was right there when the question popped in her head. It didn’t seem like that weird of a question to ask, considering they ran away from the Emperor because considered her a “distraction” to Hunter.

“It’s more of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ rule, so long as it’s within the coven.”

“So say, for example,” she began, “if you asked one of the scouts on a date; that would be allowed?”

“I wouldn’t—that’s not—you know, it doesn’t matter, because I never will anyway,” he sputtered, turning a dark shade of pink.

Willow, ignoring his flustered response, only continued: “Well what about other covens? Would you be allowed to date someone, for example, from the Construction Coven?”

“Why are you even asking?” he spat, throwing his hands up in the air.

“I mean, I’m never joining a coven, not after what Flapjack told us—I was just thinking about my options and then was wondering what were yours.”

At this point, Hunter’s face was beet-red, and not even because he was embarrassed. He stared at her and she did not look up once—she was too focused on her spell-weaving. This was a casual conversation for her and it infuriated him.  

“I’m a grimwalker,” he gritted through his teeth, “It hasn’t exactly crossed my mind as something to consider.”

Willow finally stopped what she was doing and looked up. Hunter now has his back turned towards her and had just kicked away a couple of rocks that were in front of him.

“I…I didn’t think about that,” she said quietly.

“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”

He called for Flapjack to transform and then teleported himself up onto one of the mid-level branches of the tree closest to them.

Willow sighed. “I hate it when he does that.”

Clover buzzed in agreement.

“Time to bring our grimzoomer back down to earth,” she said as she stood up. “Well, so to speak, anyway.”

--

“Hunter?”

He didn’t answer, but he allowed her to approach. Willow sat a couple of inches beside him on the branch, watching him fiddle with his hands.

“I understand it’s not something you’d want to talk about and I’m sorry for bringing it up so indelicately. I could have worded it a bit differently.”

“I’ve told you, I’m not made of glass. You don’t have to be delicate around me.”

“I know, but I’m sorry anyway. I hurt you.”

Hunter was quiet for a moment, and then glanced down at her feet, which were dangling over the edge.

“I just…don’t understand how you can talk about something like that so lightly.”

“Well,” she started a bit sheepishly, “I wasn’t exactly thinking when I was asking—it didn’t occur to me that dating would be heavy topic for you. I was just kind of curious and started thinking out loud.”

“Do you not consider it a heavy topic in general?” he asked incredulously.

She blinked.

“I guess it depends?”

He stared at her in deep skepticism.

“I was speaking hypothetically earlier; I wasn’t asking for your dating history. I wasn’t trying to make it personal so it didn’t feel like any kind of serious conversation, you know?”

His skepticism continued.

“But now that it is serious, rules or no rules aside, as a grimwalker,” she stated, “what does that mean for you?”

Hunter could feel his heart beat a little bit faster as she began the question. His hands were sweating and his ears burned. He had been evading that question all on his own for a good while now because not only did he not have any kind of answer for it—he didn’t want there to be an answer. He didn’t want to be a grimwalker. And he was a grimwalker of a human.

It didn’t stop him from wanting to live but to face questions like that? It was stupid. It was stupid to imagine there was any kind of future he had that resembled a family, that resembled any kind of lineage.

Now that he knew what he was and had all the time of the world to think about it… all the time of the world to think about it while sitting next to a witch he cared deeply for… well, it was simply too much. He didn’t want to think about it.

“What do you want, Hunter?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want!” he snapped, causing her to jump. “Titan I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

Willow grabbed his hands and squeezed.

“Hey,” she said. “You matter. And if you think you don’t, you’d have to argue with one of the strongest witches in the world because you matter a lot to her.”

Hunter let out a few shallow breaths before trying to shrink away from her but she didn’t let him. His body was the most tense it had been in a while and when she bumped her head on his shoulder, he relaxed.

“You matter to me,” she said, “in case that wasn’t clear.”

He let out a small, shaky laugh.

“It’s just, what does it really matter when I don’t know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a grimwalker and I barely understand what that means for me. I’m 95% sure I’m aging but to what end? And if I am a copy of someone else, a human, what kind of chance does that give me for a family? A life expectancy? How could I date anyone knowing I’d have to burden them with that kind of uncertainty?”

“You could also fall to your death at almost any given moment.”

“Exactly—wait. What do you mean?”

“Hunter, you said it yourself. You don’t know your life expectancy. There are a lot of unknowns in front of you,” she stated, interlocking her fingers into his. “But guess what? I don’t know my life expectancy either.”

“That’s not the same—“

“Isn’t it? You can’t avoid uncertainty, Hunter. That’s just a part of life. There will always be a million unknowns ahead of you; the best you can do is just the next right thing—just take it one step at a time.”

She loosened her grip and then patted his knee gently before returning her hand to her own lap. Slowly, he turned to look at her. Her thought was still sinking in, but he was in awe—she was right. Their eyes met and she gave him a small smile.

“So what if you’re a grimwalker? Any witch or demon should count themselves lucky for a chance to go out with you,” she winked, and then turned her head away knowing her cheeks just turned a rosy pink.

Hunter shivered; the air felt dry all of a sudden and his hair stood on end.

“So… have you thought about my question?” Willow asked, turning back around.

He nodded stiffly then looked down at his hands again to continue fiddling with them.

“I want what Caleb wanted, but more than that,” Hunter replied. “I want Belos to eat the dirt he buried him with.”

His chest felt lighter after saying it out loud and he felt compelled to take in a deep breath. Willow was staring at him with most of the color drained from her face.

Hunter didn’t change his serious expression when he met her eyes again.

“It’s not that I feel obligated to live out the life Caleb wanted—a simple life of learning a magical trade and raising a family—it really is something I want,” he said slowly. “I’m afraid of wanting it because if it’s something I can’t have—then what’s the point, you know?

“But if I could have it? I want to live it so badly, Willow. I want to live it completely untainted by Belos’ evil touch and then I want show up to wherever the hell he ends up rotting and watch him eat the dirt he buried his friend in, the dirt he buried all of the Golden Guards’ in…”

“You want him to know he didn’t win. You want him to know—“

“I want him to know I lived!” he cried, and shoved his face in his hands. “That he didn’t—he couldn’t take that from me—I didn’t let him—I can’t let him bury me, Willow—I can’t—“

Willow scooted closer and wrapped her arms around him as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“Belos is going to eat dirt whenever we find him,” she said softly. “We’re going to make him eat so much dirt.”

--

(back to present)

Another screech made Hunter whip around to see the enormous creature up close. It had several large eyes that were looking in all different directions: at him, at the egg, at the stairwell, the horizon—and oh, yes, it did have several rows of sharp teeth just as he imagined.

He didn’t have a choice, though—Willow was drowning. He slapped a fire glyph and aimed it at the creature’s head and the ammo gave him enough push to shoot through the mud and find her.

It was the hot and felt like he was swimming through tar. Without thinking, he opened his eyes to search for her but to his surprise, he could see. In the mud were random animal carcasses, precious stones, twigs, and—Willow!

He was not going to be able to hold his breath for much longer so as fast as he could through the thick sludge he embraced her with their palismen held between them and a loud spark cracked through the lighthouse.

--

Hunter still had her wrapped in his arms when they teleported to the open air above the sea and another loud screech almost caused him to dive. It may have been the most awkward flight of his life but it was also the fastest. He skyrocketed to the edge, teleporting as many times as he could until they finally crash-landed into a large bush that was in the thick of the trees.

Those monsters were definitely not getting them now.

Willow!

“Captain?” he asked, grazing her cheek with his hand.

She coughed.

He was about to cry.

She was alive. She was alive.

He scanned her body for every scratch and wound—titan, it was a lot. They were going to need to stay in one place for a good while.

He wanted to hug her but he knew it would only make it worse.

“H-hey—“ she croaked.

He grabbed her least injured arm as delicately as he could and brought it up to his cheek, kissing the palm of her hand. “You don’t have to say anything, please, just rest—“

Stiffly, she shook her head and tried to move.

His grasp tightened around her arm and she cringed, twisting her arm. He let go and while she was extremely weak, she rolled over to lay on her stomach so Hunter could see her back. There was a lot of her skin that was caked in mud, but thank titan it was dried—the mud must have stopped her from bleeding out.

Willow started gasping so Hunter helped her sit up, cradling the back of her head.

“You’re okay, you’re going to be okay—“

“H-kkgg—“

“Willow, please,” he whispered, bringing his forehead to touch hers. His body ached but it was nothing. It was nothing.

“Some,” she coughed, “some birthday, huh?”

His glossy eyes met hers and she gave him a small trembling smile.

He tried to hold back the smirk but he couldn’t. He broke and a small laugh erupted from his chest.

“Yeah. It was.”

She was about to close her eyes when Clover nuzzled into Willow’s hand, tickling it slightly causing her to jerk. Hunter jumped and saw the palisman’s worried expression. Flapjack looked concerned as well. Reaching down, he pet each of them gently, one at time.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “I’m going to get everyone cleaned up, okay? She’s going to be okay.”

She’s going to be okay.

We’re going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24 – Clean Confessions

The patience Hunter had was remarkable for someone with such a short fuse.

“I’m telling you, I’m ready.”

“No,” Hunter replied, catching Willow as she keeled back over after trying to stand up. “You’re not.”

She huffed but admitted her defeat. Willow was determined to heal but she was determined to heal faster than her body was allowing her. It was fortunate so much of plant magic overlapped with healing magic but she wasn’t an expert. She knew a few of her ribs were broken, maybe even her collar bone…but internal healing was not something Willow was capable of.

Hunter, however, was familiar enough. With Willow’s spell-weaving guidance, he was able to construct a brace to keep her shoulders from collapsing; they needed to be supported in order for her collar bone to heal correctly.

It was a risky choice to stay put but the alternative would be even more dangerous in Willow’s condition. They had discussed going to back to their previous campsite so they could gather their belongings—well, more like Hunter debated with himself out loud to the palismen while Willow slept. He thought about going on his own because he knew he would be quick but the thought of leaving her alone in this state made him feel sick.

He decided to set up their camp further into the forest, well out of reach from the spider-eyed giant stork-like creatures. Clover kept Willow company as Hunter put everything up himself with what they had and he used glyphs where he needed them.

By the time he was finished, it was already nightfall. He called both palismen into staff form so he could secure his cape between them, creating an amateur stretcher.

Yes, he did teleport her out of that lighthouse and held her tightly as he could until they landed but there was no other option. He really hoped he didn’t make her injuries worse by doing that but he had a feeling her ribs were going to take a bit longer to heal than she probably expects.

“Captain,” he whispered, cradling her cheek, and her eyelids fluttered open. “You will be more comfortable by the fire, can you—no, not like that—“ She started raising her arm and yelped at the pain, making Hunter flinch. “I’m going to help you lay down and then we’re going to take you there, okay?”

Willow hated being coddled but everything hurt. Titan, everything hurt.

--

“I can’t even stand the smell of me, Hunter, please, can you just—“

“Clover has helped you before, haven’t they?” he asked, face burning. “I don’t’ know if—“

“If anyone is going to feel awkward about this, it’s me, so for titan’s sake, just get it over with and take off my shirt!”

Hunter gulped.

Yes, they slept next to each other every night but showering was a task they both appreciated as time spent without the other. He didn’t—they hadn’t— “Mother titan, okay, okay!”

Willow had already procrastinated on the issue long enough. She felt sticky with the brace secured around over her clothing. Maybe it had only been a day but she felt disgusting, and not that she cared to admit it, but also a little humiliated. She couldn’t even undress herself and the idea of relying on anyone other than herself for something so intimate made her want to curl up in a hole and rot there, especially with how clearly uncomfortable it made Hunter.

“I—I’m sorry I have to do this,” he stuttered, carefully unfastening the brace.

“Why?” she asked, when her glossed eyes locked onto his.

“W-what?” he said, removing the brace.

Willow winced in pain but breathed slowly. “I don’t want my back to get infected and that’s definitely not something I can clean myself.”

“I know. I don’t want that either.”

“Then why are you sorry?”

“I’m…scared,” he admitted, desperately wanting to break eye contact. “It sounds stupid, but I—I’ve never seen you so vulnerable.

Finding you in that lighthouse—for a split second I really thought I had lost you.”

With a damp cloth he gently began washing her face but Willow could feel his hands shaking. When he got close enough, she kissed his wrist and he stopped.

“I am—I was starting to believe we really did have forever in front of us but it vanished the moment you did.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, Hunter.”

“It’s not that—and that wasn’t your fault, anyway. I…” he stopped again, biting his lip. There was a memory that had been lurking in his mind that finally came to light but he felt unprepared to share it. “I’m afraid of what you will think of me.”

Breaking eye contact finally, he crawled behind her to assess how to remove her shirt without ripping any of the scabbing that had started to develop around her shoulder blades. The talons on the creature really did a number on her.

“Tell me what it is. You’re going to have to share it sooner or later—no secrets, remember?”

Hunter pulled out the sharpest knife he had and nodded.

“Belos, he…I was under the impression that he was suffering from a curse. I was the only one in the entire castle that would see him in his most vulnerable state.”

“The palistrom curse?” Willow asked, surprised. He had not brought up the Emperor in conversation for a long time.

“To be honest, I’m not sure—but yes, it must have been. I wanted to help him; I could see that it caused him pain. That was real,” Hunter admitted as he carefully began trimming around her wounds. “But in his most vulnerable state, where he was at his weakest—he was also the most terrifying.”

Hunter set down the knife and reached for the washcloth again to gently wipe around where he had trimmed. Willow shivered at the touch and cringed at her own movement. When he paused, she slightly shook her head. Just keep going.

“Every time I thought maybe I had found something to help him he would lash out at me for speaking out of turn. I’ve always had problem with talking when I wasn’t supposed to but I thought he’d at least want to listen to me if I had found something to help him.”

“When he lashed out at you…did he hurt you?”

Hunter flinched at the words. He would get back to that.

“It was the only time I really showed my face around the castle, so, in a sense, I was also vulnerable.”

“That’s not an excuse—“

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he tensed, and then set his knife down again and then got up to gather some of the aloeshrooms they started cultivating at the end of the day yesterday. He set them down when he returned, sitting behind her again.

“I want to be there for you, in every way possible—and I already screwed up so many times! I know you’re going to tell me not to blame myself but it is my fault we’re even here in the first place.”

Hunter was quiet for a moment, waiting for Willow fight him on what he said but she didn’t respond.

“I-I love you,” he mumbled, picking at his fingernails and not looking up, “But you don’t deserve—this shouldn’t be how this—how this happens!”

Willow exhaled another shaky breath. “Can you come over here so I can see you?”

He did as she requested.

“I love you too,” she said, “and I trust you with my life. I mean, you came through, didn’t you?”

Willow gave him a small smirk; Hunter nodded but he was still frowning.

“I trust you with my life, too. If it was me in that lighthouse I bet you would have gotten me out twice as fast.”

“Please don’t make me laugh, it hurts to laugh.”

“Why aren’t you scared?” Hunter asked suddenly, catching her off-guard.

“Should I be?”

“No, of course not—I—I don’t,” he sputtered, unable to unscramble the words from his brain.

“Please help me understand, Hunter. You have already done a lot—you don’t have to do everything for me, it’s already challenging enough for me to just sit and watch build camp by yourself; it makes me feel useless,” she said, biting her lip. “I do need help with this, though. I’m not scared; I’m embarrassed. It’s…kind of humiliating, being so utterly helpless that I can’t even take off my own clothes. I’m not some ancient decrepit witch who needs to hire a nurse from the Healing Coven to help her go to the bathroom! Are you—are you afraid of—why-are-you-afraid-of-me?”

Hunter stared as she blinked back a few tears. Why was he so bad at this? He reached over to wipe her face with the washcloth again, sitting himself a bit closer to her. When he set it down and looked back her eyes were shut tight. He grimaced but it might be easier to speak without her eyes locked on his.

“I know this is something I need to do—something you need; I shouldn’t hesitate. I’m not afraid to give you what you need, I want to give you everything,” he said softly.

Willow opened her eyes. She watched him begin slowly cutting away the rest of her shirt.

“I imagined doing this differently…under very different circumstances,” he murmured, meeting her eyes. His eyes were wide and pleading for forgiveness—which only confused her still. Her cheeks had gone rosy at what he said but he looked ashamed.

“I imagined it differently too.”

Did he hear her correctly or did he need to re-calibrate his brain—“You imagined it…too?”

Willow’s cheeks flushed even rosier and Hunter only stared harder.

Then something clicked inside his brain and he tried to suppress a giggle.

“Hunter..?”

“Titan, I’m an idiot,” he laughed. “How am I this dense?”

My idiot, Willow thought to herself, wishing she could knock the sense into him. She sighed, smiling.

“Willow,” he said, his voice returning to a more serious state, “I am only sorry because due to the unfortunate event of you being kidnapped by giant spider-birds, I need to help give you a sponge bath.” Oh, his ears were on fire now, but at least he was trying to stifle a grin instead of a sob.

“Just as well, I am also not sorry because I may or may not have daydreamed about this moment for ages now—even though I do wish it would have first happened long after we had returned to the Boiling Isles—“ (Willow looked at him curiously when he said this) “--I’m happy at least, that I’m here. That I can.”

“Have you really daydreamed about giving me a sponge bath? That seems oddly specific.”

He cut away her sleeves and the rest until her entire upper body was bare.

“Do you know how in marriage ceremonies they say vows along the lines of ‘in sickness and in health’, ‘for richer or poorer’, and all that?”

She nodded carefully, watching him gently wipe the mud and dried blood off of her chest. The washcloth was cool against her skin and his focused expression made her heart skip a beat.

“I never really grew up around anyone who believed in those kinds of vows, but I wanted to. I wanted to believe, at least,” he shrugged, and picked up a second washcloth to start cleaning her arms. “The idea of being infatuated with someone forever just never seemed believable to me—not in a marriage that actually lasts, anyway.”

“So,” Willow interrupted, “you’re not infatuated with me?”

He flushed, but put down the washcloth and looked into her eyes. “I’m not.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, maybe sometimes I am,” he said quickly, and then picked up the washcloth again, breaking her gaze. “I-I’m always—you always amaze me.”

Hunter picked up her hands one at a time to scrub in between her fingers.

 “I um, I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this with anyone before.”

“Not even Flapjack?”

“Well maybe a little with Flapjack,” he chuckled, and she smiled.

“Do you think we’ll get married, then?”

Hunter froze, still holding her hand.

“You didn’t finish explaining, by the way,” she said. “Why you’ve daydreamed about giving me a sponge bath.”

“Right,” he almost stuttered. “It might sound stupid but I wanted to look forward to those negative parts of the vows. ‘In sickness, for poorer,’ you know? That’s when I’d know for sure it was love, that it was real love and not infatuation, that it was never pretend or imagined.”

They were both quiet for a moment when he picked up her other hand to continue getting her clean.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Willow asked, watching his focused expression again, which relaxed when he looked up at her.

“I thought there were no secrets.”

“You know how you think I hug you in my sleep?”

Hunter paused what he was doing.

“How…I think—“

“I hug you when I can’t sleep,” she said. “I’ve never done it unconsciously. Well, at least I’m pretty sure I haven’t. It seemed to help you fall asleep too so I just never stopped doing that.”

“So this entire time, you’ve let me—Titan, do you know how many times I would just think out loud when—“

“Yep,” she replied apologetically. “It was nice though, your voice would soothe me to into feeling sleepier.”

“That can’t be true, you definitely didn’t—“

“I know you want to marry me and that you’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

Hunter felt like his stomach and heart just swapped places.

“Do you think we can secure the brace again? My chest is starting to hurt.”

“Sure,” he choked, “but we’re circling back to your eavesdropping as soon as that’s done.”

“I’m sorry for not saying anything about it before.”

“You don’t sound sorry.”

“Well, you do, don’t you?”

Hunter flushed beet-red. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Not especially,” Willow winced, as tied together a loose shirt he had adjusted, making it easier to dress her without raising her arms. Once he secured the brace, he helped her up and they walked over to sit by the campfire. She didn’t want to push him so she waited for him to finish cleaning up. When he was, he sat down beside her, his knee lightly bumping into hers.

“I wanted to wait to ask you after everything was over—after we got back to the Boiling Isles, after we make sure your parents and your—err, our friends are safe. I figured probably by then we might be old enough, seeing as…it’s been over three years since we’ve been here,” he ended quietly. “I don’t even know if it’s possible for us here so it was maybe the one thing—please don’t laugh—the one thing that has kept me motivated enough to believe we will find a way back.”

Willow didn’t laugh.

Hunter fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably, not sure if he could face her current expression. “I’m…I’m hopelessly in love with you Willow,” he said, just a decibel over a whisper. “I want…whatever life a grimwalker is allowed to have…with you. I don’t know if you know how grateful I’ve felt to be stuck with you here but it’s nothing compared to the guilt I’ve felt for the same exact—“

“I’m grateful too, you know,” she said, looking at the fire. “I told you about the pretend-sleep-hugging because it’s all I could think about when I was conscious enough to think in that sludge. I kept thinking ‘why haven’t you told him yet, Willow? You should have told him and now it’s too late!’”

Her eyes glimmered as the fire started to wane down.

“Can you please stand in front of me again? I can’t turn my head to face you.”

Hunter got up immediately but instead of doing exactly as she said, he knelt down in front of her, resting his head on her lap. Carefully, Willow placed her hands on his head, tracing her finger through his hair around his ear.

“I’m pretty hopeless when it comes to being in love with you too,” she said softly. “I didn’t bring up any of the sleep-hugging because if I did it would mean you would know that I knew some of the things you were thinking about and I guess…it scared me a little bit.”

Hunter lifted his head to look at her, worriedly.

“Not in a bad way, but it caught me off-guard the first time I heard you talking to yourself about it. You were always…incredibly serious about it. It surprised me.

“And then I was almost certain I was breathing my last breath when the only thought on my mind was losing that life with you.”

“You’re the one that told me nobody really knows their own life expectancy.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Hunter smiled against her leg.

“Thank you, by the way,” Willow said, petting his head, “for washing me and everything.”

He lifted his head again and then got up so he could reach her face, kissing her lightly on the lips.

“You can always count on me, Captain.”

Willow almost spit in his face—“You can’t make me laugh, remember?”

Hunter chuckled, and then kissed her again on the nose. “Do you think we will get married then?”

“I hope so,” she said. “One day.”

“Me too, Willow.”

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 25 – Stupid-Sharing-Time (again)

A couple weeks after Hunter’s birthday Willow, was strong enough to walk without any assistance. Breathing was still difficult and she still needed the brace to support her shoulders but her overall independent mobility was improving. She could spin small spell circles from her wrists and was getting better at doing them with her feet.

She could also finally bath herself without any help, although, she still needed Hunter to change the bandages on her back daily.

“What are you looking at?”

Hunter shook his head out of the trance. Willow’s scabs along her shoulder blades were now healed for the most part.

“It looks like you won’t need the bandages anymore; I think the aloeshroom ointment definitely helped,” he replied, lightly tracing his fingertips along the scars. He was grateful they had healed but a knot tightened in his stomach when he brought his hand to his own scar on his cheek. He didn’t like they were beginning to mirror each other.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

The days of recovery were going by incredibly slowly for Willow. She was glad she was finally able to help out a bit using some of her magic but it continued to pain her watching Hunter do most of the work. He was doing so much, and without complaining—without saying much at all, she had noticed. She knew that silence from him didn’t necessarily mean he was upset but there definitely seemed to be a lot on his mind.

Mornings were Willow’s favorite time of day before the incident with the giant spider-birds. She wouldn’t be awake first necessarily, but that never changed her routine. She would get up and stretch, do her work-out for the day, start something for breakfast if Hunter hadn’t already, and then they would eat together.

Mornings were different now.

Restful sleep wasn’t really an option until her ribs and collarbone fully healed so waking up at a reasonable hour was a gamble every day. The palismen would always cuddle with her until she was up but she would never wake up before Hunter did.

Today she opened her eyes to find his arm wrapped around her waist.

“Just so you know, I am awake,” Hunter mumbled against her side.

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Willow asked, cheeks a tinge pinker.

His arm felt snugger around her but not tight enough to remind her ribs were still healing.

“I see.”

She adjusted one of her arms to rest on his. It was quiet in their tent, aside from a small breeze making its way through the opening. She could hear the morning insects buzzing outside and the tree leaves rustling. Yes, they could afford to sleep in. She needed the rest; he needed the rest.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

“Do you think you can use the same spell you used to fix your glasses on our books?”

Willow looked at the damp pages Hunter was turning. There were few without blurred handwriting and several pages were stuck together.

“I’m not sure; the spell is a type of time-reverse spell so it’s possible but it’s been over a month since we’ve seen these… I fixed my glasses the day after they cracked.”

His expression almost broke her heart; when they returned to the campsite where the spider-bird took off with her they didn’t expect anything to be in good condition but… he really hoped their books were at least still going to be usable. At the bare minimum he expected them to be legible!

“Let’s take them with us anyway; maybe I can try the spell a few times over the course of a few days. I know I don’t have the capacity to fix them all at once but maybe they are still salvageable.”

He gave her a small nod and slung his bag over his shoulder with the books inside.

“How are you doing, though?” Hunter asked, noticing Willow itching at her brace. “We’ve been walking a lot today; do you need to take a break?”

“I’m fine,” she said, “I just wish I could put my hair up or just chop it off at this point. It keeps getting caught in this thing.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” he asked, dropping the bag to free his hands. “Did you want me to put it up for you?”

Willow flushed, although she didn’t know why. Hunter has already seen her half-naked—why did touching her hair suddenly feel more intimate? He had given her a sponge bath but she still asked Clover to help her wash her hair instead of asking him.

“You don’t know how to braid hair, do you?”

“No, sorry,” he answered sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. Even after the river made his hair instantly grow to his shoulders he was pretty quick to find a way to cut it back to his usual length. “It’s not something I ever learned.”

“That’s okay, I figured.”

Flapjack chirped at both of them.

“I suppose I could teach you… but you need to promise not to get frustrated if it doesn’t come easy to you right away.”

“What are you trying to say? I’ll have you know I was a prodigy back at the castle—you think I wouldn’t be able to pick it up?”

“You tried to teach yourself how to sew and didn’t you tell me Darius said it was ‘impressively bad’?”

Willow giggled at his flushed face, but then she gasped.

“It didn’t hurt this time, I think I can finally laugh again!”

The palismen cheered, flapping around her head with buzzing enthusiasm. Willow’s eyes had glossed over when she looked at Hunter; her face was beaming but it looked as if she were about to cry.

--

 “Okay, so it’s pretty simple—you just take turns putting one lock of hair over the middle lock of hair. The hard part is just getting used to holding the hair in your hands—don’t get discouraged if it ends up being super loose the first time.”

Hunter stared at the three spell-woven grass strands that Willow had laid out for him to practice with. It was simple enough—this didn’t have to be perfect, it was just practice.

She was right though, it was easy enough to intertwine the strands with them laid out on the ground but trying to do it with her hair felt impossible.

“If it’s getting too frustrating, you can stop—“

“No, I’m going to get it, just sit still—“

“I am sitting still.”

“Not you, your hair—“

“Hunter, can you please just take a break?” she asked. “You’re stressing me out.”

“Just give me a few more minutes.”

"You could cut it so we could match--at least that way it'd be out of my face."

Hunter's grasp tightened around the locks but didn’t pull on her scalp.

"Did you want to cut your hair?"

Willow didn't answer.

Hunter let go and picked up her comb again to untangle the mess he created. Yes, it definitely wasn’t as easy as it looked but something else was obviously bothering her. He tucked a few loose strands behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

“Is this about me doing too much?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, feeling the urge to fidget with her hair.

“I know it’s hard for you to let me do things for you; is brushing your hair one of those things?”

Willow bit her lip.

“It’s stupid.”

Hunter looked at her and smirked. “So is it stupid-sharing-time?”

She met his gaze but then rolled her eyes.

“Ugh, I guess!” she said, and then crossed her legs to sit more comfortably.

Hunter sat beside her and offered his hand for her to hold. She took it and the palismen fluttered their way into her lap.

“Hair is the one thing parents never did very well. They tried, believe me, but…Amity saw how embarrassed I was by it so she’d fix it any time we would play together. She was good at making my hair feel like me but she never actually showed me how to do it.

“When we stopped being friends my hair was a disaster again and I had to teach myself how to figure it out. After that, I just… I really didn’t want anyone playing with my hair or messing with it.”

“I could just help you put it up if you want, instead of braiding it?”

“No!” she said quickly, “I mean—it’s not that. It doesn’t matter what my hair looks like right now, it’s just getting caught in the brace. You can put it up for me.”

Hunter picked up the comb and hair tie and did his best to put her hair in a bun. Feeling his fingers run through her hair again made her flush. The bun was a bit loose but it was now out of the way of brace. She felt a bit defeated, allowing him to do this—but at the same time, she felt proud of herself. It touched Willow that Hunter literally dropped everything to do this for her.

Flapjack chirped with approval but Clover silently shook their head, which made Willow laugh again.

“Thanks for your support,” Hunter muttered at the palisman, and then sat back down beside her.

“Thank you,” Willow said, and leaned over slightly to kiss his cheek and saw the scar that traced over his jawline. She kissed it instead.

Hunter nodded stiffly, feeling his ears getting warm.

“It doesn’t bother me for you to do my hair,” she said quietly. “Actually, I would like it if you did it more often.”

“Even if it’s as bad as Clover says?”

She smiled. “Of course—remember, it just takes some practice.”

Willow kissed his scar again and his hand reached to cover it, eyes widening.

“I-I’m sorry—“

Hunter looked away; his body suddenly felt cold.

“Do you mind if I…spend some time with Flapjack for a bit?” he asked, calling his palisman into staff form. “I’m not upset with you, I just—“

“I do mind,” she interrupted, grabbing his wrist. “How can you say something like that right now? I did upset you, please don’t run off. I hate it when you do that.”

He blinked and then was staring at her pleading eyes.

“I-I wasn’t going to run off, I was just going to walk over to the next tree and—I just need some space to think!”

Willow let go of his wrist the moment he snapped but he didn’t move.

“You know I love you, right?” she asked. “I love all of you. Scars and all. I hope—I know you feel the same.”

He dropped to the ground and held his head in his hands.

“Yes, I know. I do,” he mumbled. “I just wish you didn’t—you should have to have scars at all. We’re not—you shouldn’t—“

Hunter kept sputtering out half-phrases, unable to complete his thought. Clover flew down and lifted his chin up to see Willow standing in front of him, offering her hand.

“I think it’s stupid-sharing-time again,” she said with a small laugh. “It’s only fair.”

--

They both agreed to wait until after dinner for Hunter’s stupid-sharing-time because it was clear their hunger was affecting their mood. They really needed to eat something before they snapped at one another for no good reason and because it looked like there was a storm headed in their direction; they needed to secure their shelter in case it came quicker than expected.

Which it did.

--

It was pouring boiling rain again and they managed to get inside their tent right before it hit their camp. Because they had been traveling daily, their tent was a pretty simple build but it was also small so it was easy to carry. It had just enough room to give them a space to sleep in and to keep their belongings dry.

“Hunter, do you think you can take off my brace now? I could use a break from it.”

He slapped a light glyph to the ground and watched Willow illuminate in front of him. Their eyes locked but hers drifted to his cheek.

His expression was serious and when she looked down he started removing the brace. Laying it gently beside her, he watched her take in a deep breath.

“It’s still sore,” she exhaled, “but it is nice being able to raise my arms again and move my neck.”

“I’m glad,” Hunter said softly, reaching for her hand. Willow ignored it and shoved herself into Hunter, wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t hug him without hurting herself but she could at least give a gentle embrace. He melted into her. His warm cheek rested against her neck and then he kissed it.

Lightning shot through his body—did he really just kiss her neck without even thinking about it? He didn’t move, though…and neither did she.

Willow felt fairy flies buzzing in her stomach and wished she could hug him with all of her might. It felt as if he just froze in place.

“Getting a little distracted from your stupid-sharing-time, huh?” she chuckled.

He shifted to face her. Their eyes met and she lifted her hand to trace her fingertip along the scar on his face. Her other hand traced the nick in his ear and then rested comfortably cradling his cheek.

Everything inside him burned; he wanted to explode but all his brain could focus on was Willow’s gentle gaze. He wanted to tell her everything but he also wanted to kiss her senseless and you just can’t do both at once—can you? His lip was trembling as he watched Willow’s eyes shift ever so slightly.

“Hunter, um—“

Thunder struck and they felt the ground shake beneath them, causing Hunter to let go of a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Captain, are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine,” Willow answered, face slightly flushed.

Hunter realized his hands were on her waist and he pulled them away immediately, turning his head. The rain was falling harder now, not making it any easier to concentrate on what he said he was going to talk about. Did they really have to talk? Her collarbone is still healing, Hunter, you can’t just jump her like—

“Hunter,” her voice cracked, “you’re thinking out loud again.”

He felt his stomach twist into a knot and his face grew beet-red.

“It’s never too late to start digging your own grave, is it?”

“I appreciate your blunt honesty, okay?” Willow said with a small, nervous laugh, putting her hand on her neck where Hunter had kissed her. “But I’m pretty sure that’s not what you wanted to talk about before.

“I mean, maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, but you need to help me understand, okay? You’ve never talked about your scars, not with me, anyway… a-and I want you to feel safe with me.”

“I do feel safe with you,” he said quickly.

“You flinch when I try to kiss your cheek—not all of the time, but definitely a lot. We’ve been stuck here a long time and I’ve always wondered about that scar, if Belos…if he…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. “It’s not even big, but that almost concerns me more.”

Hunter felt his body squirm. It was so stupid. He was 19 years old and who knows how far they were from The Boiling Isles—from the emperor. It annoyed him that he had anything at all to remember Belos by; and here it was—right on his face. He wore gloves a lot to cover his hands—he used to have a mask to cover his face but so did Belos. He was taught to hide any hint of weakness, not only by punishment but by example. He looked up to that pathetic monster and the memory embarrassed him.

“I told you I was a prodigy in the castle for a reason—I learned quickly. I learned quickly from everything—from books, from coven heads… and from Belos,” he said, lowering his voice.

“What did you learn?”

“I learned not to speak out of turn.”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, watching him fiddle with his hands.

“It meant: if I talked back to Belos against his wishes, he would lash out at me. His curse would lash out on me,” he corrected himself. “Although I may have learned it quickly, I still had a problem with talking too much. The first time, I didn’t know I needed to step away. The second time… I didn’t step away quickly enough.”

His shrug was startling to Willow. Why didn’t he act like this was a big deal?

“He didn’t torture me if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, noticing her concerned stare. “He just... he would lose control and take it out on me. I’m not saying it was right—obviously it wasn’t! I just—“

“He did torture you—those scars are miniscule compared to how he tortured you, Hunter.”

He blinked, looking up at her. Her eyes were glossy but her brow furrowed.

“I want to beat him up so badly!”

Hunter smirked, not noticing a tear falling from his own eye.

“H-he was always toying with you, it makes me sick.”

His smile fell at that. He wasn’t the only one that was toyed with. Without even counting all of the Golden Guards… Belos toyed with everyone. It made him nauseous thinking about it too but remembering the fateful evening he set out to protect Willow… Belos didn’t even give him a chance to bring her in by his deadline. He was set up to lead him straight to her.

Belos used him.

If Hunter proved no longer to be useful… he’d just get thrown away—just like all the others.

Before Hunter started blinking back tears, he felt Willow’s lip press against his jawline at the end of his scar for the third time today. He wanted to hold her there this time and never let her kiss break away.

“I know it’s going to sound dumb at first,” Willow started, just inches away from his ear, “but when I look at you and I see your scar—I don’t see the monster that did this to you.”

“What do you see, then?” he whispered.

“I see the smart, brave kid who stood up to an evil, manipulative bastard.”

“Willow!” he snickered, almost taking out her forehead with his own because he was laughing so hard.

“What?” she smiled. “It’s true.”

“Do you—do you really?”

She nodded.

“Can you,” he started to ask, pointing to his scar. Titan, his face felt warmer than ever. “Can you kiss me every time you see that?”

“I would have to kiss you all of the time!”

“I don’t have a problem with that.”

He shrugged which made Willow give him a small shove and they both burst laughing.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 26 – Willow’s “Birthday”

—flashback: little Willow—

Willow was shy; she had been since she was a baby. At almost 4 years she was starting to grow more extroverted but was still timid around strangers.

Today she was out with her Appa at the market—she agreed she wanted to come along to help pick out the ingredients for her birthday cake. She felt a bit nervous but Appa assured he would be holding her hand the entire time; no matter how many witches or demons in the crowd he would always be right by her side.

And there were many witches and demons at the market today. At least ten. She could only count to ten so she knew there were at least that many, but it definitely seemed like a lot more. It was overwhelming and Appa could tell she was getting a bit anxious as she clung to his leg.

“Willow, we’re at the flour shop—would you like to tell this kind shopkeeper what we’re looking for?”

She only clung harder, and then looked in the other direction.

“I’m sorry, Nedison, she’s feeling a little extra shy today. Could we have 5 pounds of the creep-wheat flour?”

“It’s no problem,” the tall man muffled through his mustache.

Willow lifted her gaze when she heard the shopkeeper walk away and noticed something outside the shop through one of the windows. Actually, she noticed someone.

“That will be six snails, please!”

“Sheesh, prices are going up, aren’t they?”

“Emperor’s putting an extra tax on any witch family without sigils,” he said, “and my wife still refuses to get one. It’s getting a little absurd if you ask me.”

Willow’s Appa nodded solemnly and pulled out the change from his pocket. “Thank you, anyway—Willow, can you say ‘thank you’ to Ned—Willow?”

The bell above the door jingled as both men watched it close. Willow had just run out without saying a word.

--

(back to present: a few days before Willow’s 19^th birthday)

“Hurry up, Flapjack, we’re almost out of time—“

“Almost out of time for what?” Willow’s voice said behind him.

“Nothing,” Hunter squeaked, and frantically shoved what he was holding under a plot of dry moss. Flapjack fluttered to sit on top of it, chirping in agreement.

Willow’s eyes narrowed as she let go of her staff, allowing Clover to join them.

“I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I?”

Hunter sighed. “Of course you will… I really thought I could pull this off, though.”

“Well, I still don’t really know what it is—you still have a solid chance at surprising me,” she said, giving him a comforting pat on the back.

His head fell in defeat. Ever since her first birthday spent here, he wanted to surprise her with something special but it wasn’t easy hiding anything from her. It wasn’t easy hiding anything period, considering their nomadic lifestyle, but he was still determined to try. As it got closer, Willow was able to start working out again—gradually, of course, but she was still grateful to return to a form of normalcy. Every morning she was out of the tent for an hour or two with Clover which gave Hunter time to himself.

He used this time to continue testing out different glyph combinations and there was one combination that came close to a form of mirroring objects as illusions. He eventually tweaked the glyph combination so that it made two-dimensional illusions of objects placed in the glyph circle. Today he mastered a combination of transferring the images from his scroll to pages of his journal using the energy mushrooms they would utilize for charging their scrolls in one glyph circle. That glyph circle was connected to another that held his scroll and then the third contained a blank journal. Now he just had to get her scroll without her noticing…

He was certain that there was no way Willow would figure out what he was up to because this was so much more than he’s tried in the past. Yes, she’d probably figure out he was up to something… but he could manage to keep it a secret, right? He really wanted to surprise her this time.

“This is going to sound crazy,” Willow said as she sat herself down next to him, “but I think I’m finally ready to tell you.”

“This sounds like it’s going to be a serious-story-time.”

She laughed a bit nervously. “Yeah… I suppose it will be. It’s not exactly important in the grand scheme of things, it’s just, I have a bad habit of keeping a lot of me to myself, you know? You do too, obviously, but—“

“But I talk a lot more than you do.”

Clover buzzed in agreement and Willow tried to fight the smirk appearing on her face. “You know my birthday is coming up—at least, pretty sure it is based on your calendar—“

“What! Really?” he gaped, keeling over in feign astonishment.

“I don’t actually know if it is my real birthday, and honestly? It probably isn’t…it’s the day my parents officially adopted me.”

Willow started fidgeting with her hair, watching Hunter’s reaction. He seemed…perplexed.

“You don’t know if it’s your actual birthday?”

“Guess we have that in common, don’t we?”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I never thought to? I’ve always celebrated my birthday as the day I was adopted, it was just…normal. I didn’t find out till later it wasn’t the actual date. But I was thinking about it the past few days and while it doesn’t really matter, I wanted you to know.”

Hunter stood up and took a couple steps forward, reaching for her hands. She welcomed them and looked up shyly.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, and then leaned down to give her a small kiss. Their foreheads met and Willow smiled.

Her ‘birthday’ always reminded her to be grateful, even if she wasn’t feeling it. There had definitely been quite a few of them in the past that she’d prefer to forget! But every birthday she has spent with Hunter so far had been unique. Her sixteenth birthday was definitely a downer at first because it was her first birthday spent without her family and friends. The day just reminded her of how everything had gone wrong and how her parents were probably worried sick.

Hunter did his best to make it better though—he tried making some kind of dessert and to this day neither of them could figure out what it was other than inedible. She’d always laugh thinking about it. For her seventeenth birthday he made her an armored vest from lizard-mole scales that he had been collecting for a long time. She knew he wanted to keep it a surprise so whenever she’d catch him working on it she tried to help spell-weave without him looking—he did catch her, though. She felt a little bad because it was clear he wanted to give her something he made on his own without any assistance so this year she was determined to ignore all signs that pointed to anything about what he was doing for her.

For her eighteenth birthday, he had decided not to make anything. He knew better! Instead, Willow caught Flapjack helping him learn how to dance. Willow still recovering from the spider-bird attack and the last of her injuries were just barely healed at the time—she almost started crying when Hunter explained that it’s something Caleb and Elizalyn would do together in their living room. His face was the most scarlet it had ever been when he started to talk about it but Flapjack was quick to jump into finish explaining when he fell into a sputtering mess.

How could he ever get more thoughtful and sweet? When he was ready, he reached for her hand and pulled her close to his waist—titan, she still got chills remembering it—he started whistling. He led her steps, back and forth; it was the simplest dance anyone could do. They could hear the trees rustling on one side of them and the waves crashing from the other and he just started whistling the faintest melody. It was as if they were dancing to real music.

She sighed; in a few days she would be nineteen, the age her mother ran away from her family. It pained her deeply that Appa might be at home or imprisoned in the emperor’s castle somewhere wondering if Willow had followed in his sister’s footsteps. She felt settled in the idea it might be a while before she ever spends another birthday on the Boiling Isles—but she would never become her mother. The uncertainty frightened her but she knew what she needed to focus on: just do the next right thing.

Everything inside her felt warm and fuzzy. Hunter was still holding her. What was the next right thing to do? Willow leaned in and kissed Hunter back. The kiss was heavier and  more urgent than the light kiss he had just given her. He felt her hands trace their way up to the back of his neck, grasp firmly, and then she pulled him into her. Hunter suddenly felt weak, as if his knees were about to buckle under him.

They did.

He was almost able to catch himself but Willow tumbled on top of him, gasping.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes darting around him.

“Better than ever, if I’m being honest,” he wheezed, moving some tousled hair out of his eyes. His face was very red.

“Oh,” Willow giggled. “I see.”

“Titan, how do you even do that?” he exasperated, covering his face with his hands. “I swear, any time you kiss me like that, I just—I—“

“You fall for me?”

“Literally!” he cried. “I mean, you remember the first time you did that? You’re a dangerous witch.”

“I wouldn’t have kissed you mid-flight like that if I had known—“

“I fell out of the sky because of you—“

“We were flying barely four feet above the ground and it wasn’t my fault you were trying to show off by flying backwards—“

“Fine, fine—but it still makes you a dangerous witch to be with,” he laughed.

“A price you are willing to pay, I think,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Titan, I’m hopeless.”

They both were.

--

—flashback: Little Willow, continued—

“Rose,” Appa said in low voice, “What are you doing here?”

In between he and the woman stood a young and confused Willow. She had gone out of the shop because a witch passed by in a hurry that caught her eye. She looked… familiar. She reminded her of Appa almost—but when she approached her—

“Am I not allowed to shop here? I don’t think this is your marketplace.”

“In the note you left you said you were never going to return but here you are—why didn’t you reach out to us? Why didn’t you call?” Appa’s voice was starting to tremble. “Why are you here?”

Rose flinched when Willow walked closer to her, reaching for her hand. Willow lowered her arm, looking up the woman’s grimace. She watched the skin crease around her mouth, making a face of disgust.

“Is that…”

Appa’s eyes were stone cold.

“Willow,” he said gently, getting down on one knee so they could see eye-to-eye. “We got the flour we needed. We can come back to the market later to get the rest, all right?”

The woman took another step back, clearly uncomfortable with Willow staring at her.

“She’s curious about you,” Appa said, when Willow latched onto his leg. “She must have seen you outside the shop and wandered off, following you.”

“How can she even remember what I look like?”

“You’re my sister, Rose. We have countless scrapbooks full of photos.”

“So she knows I’m her mother.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a cold but quiet statement; she said it just loud enough for the both of them to hear. Willow’s eyes grew wide and Appa clenched his jaw.

“She knows now,” he said, bending down to pick her up.

“Appa..?”

Rose watched her brother adjust his stance so he could carry his daughter with one arm and the sack of flour with the other.

“Are you coming home, then?”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She scoffed, tired of the scorn prickling all over her skin. Appa lowered his gaze and then kissed Willow on the cheek, finding a salty tear had made its way down her face.

“We’ll be going then,” he said. “Goodbye, Rose.”

“Why are you still mad at me? I gave you the daughter you always wanted!”

“That’s not what happened,” he said, feeling his throat tensing. He looked back and his older sister was visibly shaking. Willow’s arms tightened around his neck. “You left, Rose. We had no idea where you had gone—you left without saying a word—I was still a teenager! And the night of that flyer derby match—“

“That’s what you’ve been whining over all these years? Missing your stupid game? You know it was about sigils! Unbelievable—“

“—And the next time we hear anything from you was ten years later via a barely legible note taped to a basket with Willow’s name!” he cried. “No explanation…just sweet, baby Willow… and a hollow apology.”

Willow could see her eyes harden as she gripped the staff she as holding even tighter.

“Why even ask if I’m coming home? You obviously have lived well enough without me in her life,” Rose said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Willow was never your daughter,” he husked, “it’s what you said in your note.”

She didn’t have a reply to that.

“But I have always been your little brother.”

She turned around and started walking away.

“And you will always be my big sister,” he whispered, knowing she was too far to hear him.

“Appa?”

Willow’s small hands were on his cheeks, waiting for an answer.

“Let’s go home, sweetpea,” he said in an unwavering voice. “It’s a little too crowded at the market today.”

She didn’t know what to say other than to agree; it was too crowded… but as much as she wanted to, she was afraid to ask about the woman, Rose. A woman who didn’t exactly claim to be her mother but she knew she was.

“Will we see her again?” she asked, turning her head to look back.

“I… I don’t know, Willow.”

His voice sounded broken.

“Maybe we will, maybe we won’t,” she said, kissing his cheek, in attempt to cheer him up. “But you know what we will do?”

A smile returned to his face.

“It’s like you say, Appa—“

“The next right thing.”

--

(back to present: Willow’s 19^th birthday)

Willow was at a loss for words. Hunter’s attempt at being creative was always endearing but this was different. He used a book he had asked her to spell-bind (tricking her into making her own birthday gift, she teased later) and there were photos inside. He… he figured out how to transfer photos from their scrolls to pages with glyphs! And he really did fill the book—she was almost embarrassed because this must have meant he had seen every single photo she had ever saved on her scroll—oh titan, her face felt like it was on fire.

“Do you…do you like it?”

She nodded, covering her face with her hands.

“It’s not like I put in each picture individually, I managed to do it by just placing the scroll in one part of the glyph combination and then the book in the other—but we could look through it together, if you want?”

She peeked through her hands, noticing Hunter’s ears were very pink but he had a dopey grin on his face. He looked so proud of himself—he succeeded, after all, in surprising her. Willow smiled and as quickly as she could she swallowed Hunter in a hug. He squeaked in response which made her laugh.

“It’s perfect, Hunter,” she murmured, not letting go. “Did you want to start from the beginning?”

“Why don’t we start from the back? There’s an interesting picture of me doing sit-ups I’d like an explanation of—“

“I thought you said you didn’t see them!”

“Not all of them,” he teased, catching himself as Willow threw him off of her.

She smirked.

“I hope you know there’s going to be a book of your scroll next and we’ll see who’s embarrassed then—“

“Okay, okay—the book is all yours!” he laughed. “And we can start from the beginning if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Hunter,” she said, a little more softly.

He nodded and then returned to her side as she opened up to the first page.

--

—after a flyer derby practice flashback—

Willow had run out of the house to get the vegetables her Papa had requested from the garden, leaving Hunter in the Park living room alone with her Appa. He couldn’t understand why, but the feeling of her father’s eyes digging into his back was starting to make him nervous. Her parents had convinced him to stay for dinner and even though Willow seemed a tad annoyed at their insistence, Hunter felt almost indifferent. He was curious about her family…but more curious about how ordinary witches lived on the Boiling Isles. His memories of where he grew up were foggy and the idea of having a home-cooked meal made his insides feel warm.

“What are these?” he asked out loud, looking at the bookcase beside the couch.

“They’re family albums.”

Hunter turned around, startled. He didn’t expect a response.

“That dusty one you’re touching—the pictures inside are from when I was about your age,” he said with a small but tired smile.

“I-I I didn’t mean to be nosey, sir—“

“That’s all right,” he said, patting him on the back. “Just make sure you ask Willow permission before looking through them.”

Hunter looked up at him, perplexed—but he simply walked away from him into the kitchen without any further explanation.

“Which carrots did you want again, Papa?” Willow’s voice called through the back door.

“The ones you have there are fine,” he answered, pulling out a colander. “Go ahead and dump them here—you can wash up in the bathroom.”

She looked down at herself, not realizing just how much dirt she was covered in. She slipped her shoes off by the door and started walking through the living room, careful not to leave a trail.

“Oh! What are you doing here?” she asked, startled by seeing Hunter standing by the bookcase.

“You…invited me here,” he said in a flat voice. “Should I leave?”

“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant!” she said, her voice squeaking a bit higher than she expected. “I just thought you’d be in the kitchen or at the table. What are you…”

Willow trailed off, noticing the shelf his hand was resting on.

“Your dad told me I needed permission from you to look at this book,” he said, pointing to the album’s spine. It had a small photo of a younger-looking Appa and a young woman that Hunter did not recognize; she seemed familiar though.

The dirt on Willow’s arms started prickling her skin.

“Well, he’s right,” she said. “You would need my permission. You didn’t look, did you?”

He shook his head, even more perplexed.

“I’m going to go wash my hands—you should see if my dads need any help!”

Hunter stared the moment she vanished. Clearly these books meant a lot to the Parks… there were practically a hundred of them that filled the bookcases that surrounded the living room. Some of them were even on display on the coffee table. It felt odd to come across a barrier when it seemed to him Willow was ordinarily an open book—she was fine with him borrowing any of her books in her room so what made this book so different? He understood they were of her family, it’s not like it was a textbook… but her face when she saw him—she looked afraid.

He had never seen the Captain show an ounce of fear—not once.

He could barely wrap his head around it.

--

(back to the present: Willow’s 19^th birthday, that night)

Hunter had already gone to sleep but Willow cast a couple of firefly lilies so she could continue flipping through the book.

He had gone in and scribbled in notes by some of the photos they had taken together as well as teasing messages by the ones she had taken of him without him knowing. So he had seen all of the pictures, that little—titan, she couldn’t even be mad at him.

There was something else, though. Every few pages there was an envelope included. When they were looking together and came across one of them he asked her if she could open them without him present. “Why?” she had asked, and he said “because I’m too embarrassed to hear you read any of it out loud—but I swear I mean every word, okay?” so what did that mean?

She turned to the page from one of the evenings Hunter had eaten dinner with her and her family. It only happened a couple of times but her Papa was very insistent on taking a picture of them at the table together. She looked a little annoyed in the picture and Hunter just looked… awkward. She smirked but her brows furrowed when she looked at the envelope.

“What do you think is inside, Clover?” she asked softly, and pet her palisman who had snuggled into her lap.

Willow glanced at Hunter, who was still dead asleep. He had a small bit of drool going down his cheek and Flapjack was nestled in his elbow. She tried not to laugh, it was very cute.

Clover tugged on the envelope and Willow finally gave in to her curiosity. She opened it up and pulled out a folded, torn sheet of paper with her name scrawled on one side. Her cheeks flushed when she looked up at Hunter again, and then down at the photos. She inspected them a little more closely and her memory of that day became clearer.

“Dear Willow,

I didn’t have your permission then, to look at your family photo albums.  I hope, since we’ve opened up to each other a lot more since then, that when we come back we can look through them together. In the meantime, I hope this one will do.

With love Your

Love,

Hunter”

She wanted to cry.

“Papa is going to love him,” she sniffled, taking off her glasses to wipe her eyes.

Clover hummed softly in agreement.

“I just hope Appa doesn’t kill him first for running away with me all this time,” she said dryly. “I know… I know I’m not Rose. They know I’m not Rose. It’s just…we’ve been away for a few years now.”

Hunter stirred slightly, turning over in his sleep.

“I hope he understands.”

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 27 – Underneath it All

A couple of months after Willow’s 19^th birthday, she and Hunter set up camp again. Dense fog was a common reoccurrence as they travelled along the edge which definitely slowed them down but they were thankful for the regular breaks from travel.

Hunter has tried to come up with a glyph combination to eliminate fog as it appeared but the best he could muster would only temporarily remove a small area of fog that would only be swallowed by the surrounding mist a minute or two later. 

The next morning he left the tent after leaning over to kiss Willow gently on the forehead. Clover was quietly snoring beside her and Hunter did not want to disturb how peaceful they looked. He figured he could bring their campfire back to life and start setting up something for breakfast. He drew the glyph combination to get rid of the fog for a minute or two where he was so he could see properly and sat next to the embers that had died down from last night.

“It’s a shame I can somehow see things through dirt but I can’t through fog,” he muttered while throwing a tapped fire glyph onto the campfire.

Flapjack chirped quietly in response and nestled himself comfortably between Hunter’s feet.

A few weeks after Hunter rescued Willow from the lighthouse she asked him how he found her. He tried to explain it was by instinct but the truth was the second he opened his eyes after diving in the mud he could see. It was different than having his eyes open above ground but he could still make out the surrounding that swallowed him. Willow offered to help him test out this newfound ability by sending him underground using her plant magic but he declined. He wasn’t claustrophobic exactly; there was something about the reminder his existence came from someone who was buried that made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t have the magic to get himself out if someone buried him alive—knowing what he knows now if someone buried him alive he could watch Belos commit his own murder.

Did Belos bury the Golden Guards? Did he bury them alive?

“Was I really born out of someone’s grave?”

The fire crackled in response and Flapjack fluttered upward to sit in Hunter’s lap. He gently stroked his palisman’s back and patted him on the head.

“Maybe I should finally face my fear. What do you think?”

Flapjack looked at him curiously.

“It’s okay, I’m going to start small,” he assured, “Will you help me dig? The ground is damp now, it should be easy enough.”

Hunter walked around the fire and then crouched down when he was on the opposite side. Flapjack looked down at where he was pointing.

“I’m just going to put my face in and open my eyes. It will only be for a few seconds.”

He started to dig out a shallow bowl-like shape about the size of his head. Flapjack looked a little concerned.

“Look, if you’re that worried you can wake up Willow but I really wanted to try this out by myself first. It feels like a rite of passage, you know?”

Flapjack nodded and hopped a couple steps back.

“Okay. Deep breath!”

Hunter was now lying face-down in the ground. The dirt was cool and while it wasn’t completely mud it wasn’t dry either. It felt calming and uncomfortable at the same time. The hole was deep enough that some dirt trickled into his ears.

He forced his eyes open.

There were roots everywhere. And they were tangled and complex. Layers and layers below him, it seemed, but it didn’t quite go on forever. How far could he really see underground? He tried looking in different directions but it was difficult unless he actually moved his head to change his gaze. His heart beat faster the deeper his gaze reached to something that didn’t quite look like it belonged underground and then suddenly—

“Hunter!”

Willow yanked him off the ground and it felt like she had ripped him from the earth.

A blurred Flapjack chirped at Willow’s silhouette. It took Hunter’s eyes a minute to adjust to the light but when her features sharpened he almost jumped backward.

“Did you take a second to think about how it would look if I woke up and saw you faceplanted in the ground like that first thing in the morning?”

“I-I was only going to try it for just a few seconds—“

“What were you doing?”

Hunter felt nearly paralyzed. His hands were close to his chest and his face was still smeared with dirt.

“I w-wanted to try and see. I felt like I was ready.”

Willow sighed and sat down next to him. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Hunter. I looked at you and… ugh, you’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“No, I should have just waited until you were up, I’m sorry.”

“It was like I was giving a baby a bath and I turned around for one second and then suddenly the baby is face-down in the water helplessly drowning. That’s what waking up to your face in the ground felt like.”

Hunter’s face contorted into a confused laugh.

“W-what? A baby? Since when have you had experience—“

“I haven’t, okay? You just scared me, that’s all,” Willow said, crossing her arms. “Also, your face looks like shit.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to kiss me good morning?”

“Hunter!” she shrieked, jumping back when he started to lean in toward her.

He snickered.

“There’s tea on the fire,” he said, after his laughing had died down. “I’ll go wash my face.”

“Thank you,” Willow smirked, “and then you’re going to tell me if getting yourself face-planted was worth anything?”

“Yes!” he called back, but through the fog all he could see was the glow of the fire. “There’s something down there that I want you to see.”

-

As Hunter scrubbed his face, he pictured what he saw below in the few seconds he had. Beyond the layers of roots he could see something odd. The roots were shaped differently. In the more shallow part of the earth they clearly extended outward at random but the deeper he looked the roots seemed to curve around a large shape… almost as if something was buried there. It wasn’t a carcass… it didn’t look natural. He couldn’t tell if it was placed there or there all along but—

“Hunter, hurry up!”

“If the tea is getting cold just put it back on the fire!” he shouted back.

“This is more important than your tea—and you need to see it for yourself!”

He looked back and the fog looked like it was starting to dissipate. A much larger shape than the one he saw underground began revealing itself through the mist.

His heart dropped.

“Is that… is that another lighthouse?”

Willow met his eyes when he caught up with her.

“Did we somehow—“

“It’s not the same lighthouse,” Willow interrupted.

“Of course it isn’t, it can’t be,” he said and then grabbed her hand. “It’s too close.”

It’s not even offshore; it can’t be more than a few hundred feet away from us.”

Hunter squeezed her hand and she squeezed back.

“What did you see?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Underground? You said you saw something.”

“Oh!” he said, “That. Right. Well, it’s really nothing compared to this—“

“Are you sure?”

Hunter paused while he stared ahead. It was still barely light out and the fog was taking its time.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, “but I do think we should go back to the tent for now. We still can’t make out details in this fog, we should probably lay low.”

Willow nodded and picked up their tea. Hunter followed her to their tent but they left it open to keep watch on the fog.

“Looking underground… I don’t know how to explain it but I think you’d find it beautiful.”

Willow was listening but her eyes were locked the shadowy silhouette lurking outside.

“In what way?” she asked, adjusting her glasses.

“If I was actually in there I think I would have suffocated but it was like seeing the forest upside-down; it was an entirely new world, opposite this one.”

She turned back to look at him. His hands were flat on the ground and he seemed lost in thought.

“There was something else, though,” she said, putting her hand on top of one of his. “Something tells me you want to look again.”

“It was like the roots were wrapped around something big,” he said, gesturing an ambiguous shape with his hands. “Or something is down there in the way they can’t penetrate. It didn’t seem like it belonged there but who am I to judge, right? There’s still a lot we don’t know about this place.”

Willow watched him fidget, trying to sit in a comfortable position, but it was difficult when he was focused on uncertainties.

“Did you want to find out what it is?”

“How? It’s really down there, it’s not like we could—“

“Did you forget you sleep next to the strongest plant witch of Hexside or are you really that dense?”

Flapjack chuckled a chirp and Clover shook their head.

“I—wow,” Hunter mumbled, letting his face fall into his hands. “You’re selling yourself short though, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to be the strongest plant witch of the Boiling Isles,” he said, peeking an eye through his fingers. “Head of the plant coven has nothing on you.”

Willow blushed although she doesn’t know why.

“Terra Snapdragon is probably the most fearsome though, right?”

Hunter let out an anxious giggle.

“Maybe,” he said. “She is undeniably cruel. I don’t think I’ve seen her show an ounce of mercy toward a single witch.”

“Are you saying there’s a possibility she isn’t the most fearsome?”

Hunter’s ears flushed a deep magenta and he put his face in his hands again.

“I’m confused,” Willow laughed a bit nervously. “Do I scare you?” Why does he look embarrassed?

“You might be one of the most formidable and terrifying witches I have ever met,” he mumbled. “And that’s saying something because I thought I…”

He trailed off, clearly not wanting to finish his sentence. Willow leaned in very close so he didn’t have to say it too loudly.

“I thought I was the most formidable and terrifying...aside from Belos, of course, but that’s different! He's actually evil. And then you—you pulled me out of the sky! I’ve gone through all of the Emperor’s Coven training and there is absolutely nothing that made my heart beat faster than your presence alone.

“I’m just embarrassed to admit I actually thought I was cool, that’s all.”

Hunter crumbled into his knees, not wanting Willow to see his crimson face.

“I promise I won’t tell Gus,” she smirked.

“Are you joking?” Hunter shot up. “He already knows, he knew it from the start! Neither of you were afraid of me for a second!”

“That’s because we didn’t know you were the Golden Guard,” Willow said, patting him on the head.

“Exactly,” he pouted. “The only thing people feared was the mask. I was nothing without it.”

“That’s not true,” she stated firmly. “You were not nothing without it. I think you were more yourself and a little bit more approachable.”

“A little bit?”

“You’re a very expressive person; sometimes that overwhelms people. You remind me of Luz in that way.”

“You’re comparing me to Luz again.”

“Yes,” she huffed. “So? She was… not exactly approachable when we first met, you know.”

“We are nothing alike!”

“I wonder how she’s doing now,” Willow sighed, looking out the tent again.

Hunter blinked. The fog was nearly gone now.

“I hope she’s okay.”

“She has a lot of people looking out for her,” he said, putting her arm around her. “And I’m sure she’s smarter than she looks.”

“Hunter.”

“It was a compliment!”

“You really need to work on that before we make it back, you know.”

“I’ll try.”

-

By the early afternoon, the fog was gone. They could now see more than just the outline of the second lighthouse. The structure looked completely intact, unlike the first one they had encountered. It wasn’t too far either; they could probably arrive there in a few minutes if they flew.

“Should we investigate the lighthouse first or did you want me to uproot what you saw under our campsite?”

“It might be best if we wait on the lighthouse,” Hunter decided. “The fog’s only just lifted… you never know what might be lurking about.”

“Mystery below it is, then!” Willow proclaimed, and called for her staff. “Best if you get out of the way for this one.”

Flapjack transformed so Hunter could watch from the air a short distance away. Willow knelt down to feel the ground with her hands, deciding how she should go about digging for something she couldn’t see. She pointed her staff and began to run around the area where Hunter planted his face in. When she completed the circle, it glowed a bright green and the ground started rumbling.

Hovering above the center of the spell circle, she lifted her hands and then pointed them opposite sides of one another in a quick motion. The earth below cracked and a fault was beginning to separate the ground into two. Roots were uprooting, dirt was unburying… and then everything came to a sudden halt. A small, hollow sound echoed in both their ears and Willow’s eyes widened at what she saw below her.

They found a tunnel.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 – Mirror, Mirror

“Are you finished?” Willow asked, putting her hand on her hip. “We should see where this tunnel leads. I’m not facing these perils alone.”

Hunter blinked.

Willow had dug deep into the ground with her plant magic to find what was below the layers of roots. He wasn’t sure what it could be but this was really something he didn’t expect. She found a tunnel… but the moment she broke into it he heard a shattering sound.

Shards of glass came flying out and thankfully Willow was quick to catch them with the roots she had just pulled apart. When the dust settled, they approached the torn-apart earth, carefully stepping around the roots and vines that Willow had cast aside. When they peered over the edge, the palismen flew in ahead to inspect what was inside.

They could see that she had created a large, jagged hole in the ceiling and beyond that Hunter noticed something was glimmering sharply in his eye.

When they felt the structure was sturdy enough, they made their way down. The tunnel itself was only about a foot higher than their heads but the walls of the tunnel were lined with mirrors.

Hunter nearly took himself out the second he caught sight of the figure standing behind him. It was Willow’s reflection which was standing right next to his own reflection.

He barely recognized himself.

He and Willow periodically would take pictures with their scrolls but they haven’t stood in front of a mirror in four and a half years.

“Sometimes I forget how much taller you are,” Willow mumbled, also staring at their reflections. “Are you okay?”

He shook his head and then looked down one direction of the tunnel. “It’s unsettling.”

“What about it?”

“I just… I’ve never seen or read anything like this. And we’ve seen nothing like it until now? We’ve been traveling for ages and there’s no entrance? Where does it lead? Where does it even start?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out. I vote we walk this way,” she said, and pointed in the opposite direction of where he was facing.

“Why?”

“It’s in the direction of the lighthouse.”

--

Willow cast firefly lilies along the path as they made their way forward so they could watch their step. The ground felt cooler the further they walked and Hunter’s hands felt cold, even with his gloves on.

“I finally figured out what this place reminds me of,” Willow said, catching a glimpse of Hunter’s reflection on one side of the tunnel. “And why it’s giving me the creeps.”

Hunter looked at her, confused.

“Amity’s house,” she explained. “I swear, Odalia filled the house with anything that held any kind of reflection so she could keep an eye on whoever was there. Mirrors, framed pictures, vases, crystal balls… if it was shiny, it had a place in the mansion.”

Hunter’s hands clenched into fists and he bit his lip.

“Do you think someone is watching us?”

“I’m not sure but it’s probably best we stay on our toes.”

They were quiet once more and walked more slowly, looking all around as they stepped. Willow’s hand brushed past Hunter’s fist, loosening his grip. Her hand brushed against his again and this time he caught it and did not let go. When he looked to the side, he saw her looking at his reflection and she quickly turned her head back to face him. It was a tinge pinker than before.

“Is it weird,” she said, her voice almost shaking, “that I like looking at us?”

“What do you mean?” Hunter asked, squeezing her hand a little tighter.

“I guess it just crossed my mind… what are they going to see when they look at us like this?” she asked, looking back at their reflection again, gesturing with her free hand at their faces. “Are they going to see us or are they going to see someone else?”

“You had me but then you lost me,” he replied, sighing.

“Gus. Luz. Amity,” she said. “We’re…different, now. You know?”

“You mean we’re old?”

“We’re not—no, that’s not what I mean. They’ll be older too, anyway! I mean like… I just…” she trailed off. “I guess I’m afraid my parents are going to see someone else.”

Willow didn’t let go of his hand but he could feel her starting to freeze so he stopped walking and sat down. He pat the ground next to him so she would follow.

“What are we doing now?”

“Let’s take a look then, huh?” Hunter said, gesturing at the mirror they were both facing now. “What do you see?”

She blinked.

Sitting in front of her was a witch she thought she was and the witch she wanted to be. Her glasses were the same gold rims that she’s had since she was fifteen. Her clothes were both old and new but they were all made by her. She was more self-sufficient than she had ever been but the clasp that held her cloak together… it was her own reminder that she had someone on her side; that she didn’t have to do everything alone. It was Hunter’s clasp that came with his cloak from when he was the Golden Guard. His cloak was now long gone but she kept the clasp.

She had scars on her back that she would brag about to her Emerald Entrails teammates but was scared to tell her fathers about. She was strong but not exactly fearless. It didn’t matter though, because having courage is doing whatever it is even though you are afraid. She’s always known that.

Her palisman nestled into her hair, which had grown longer than she’s ever had it. It reminded her of her mother.

“Do you have your knife on you?”

Hunter looked at her, perplexed.

“I think I’m ready to chop this off. It’s weighing me down.”

“You want to cut your hair…right now?”

“Is that a problem?”

Hunter looked at Flapjack who appeared indifferent.

“We’re surrounded by mirrors so I guess it’s good to take advantage of the moment,” he said, pulling the knife he carved from bone a couple of years ago. “Did you want to do it yourself or did you want me to cut it?”

Willow wasn’t sure. It’s true that Hunter had his own experience with cutting his own hair after the river water made it grow down to his shoulders... but it’s not like chopping her hair would be hard. She didn’t want it extraordinarily short but it would be nice if it went back to the way it was when they got here.

Hunter removed his gloves and picked up his knife again.

“Ah!”

Willow jumped.

“How did you—“

“I did sharpen this like last week, I just nicked my finger, that’s all,” Hunter assured, bringing his thumb to his mouth. “I didn’t mean to startle you, take your time with your decision. Actually, just take the knife for now.”

He handed it off to her but she didn’t have firm grasp when he let go and when it fell, the clattering noise echoed down the tunnel.

“How did you miss—“

“You should have waiting half a second more—“

The knife lied on the ground between them in front of one of the mirrors. The tiniest amount of Hunter’s blood had splattered on his reflection.

Flapjack started chirping frantically, pecking at both of their heads until they faced the mirror. They watched Hunter’s reflection absorb the blood from the surface and then the mirror faded to black.

“W-what is this?”

Willow called for her staff and took a step in front of Hunter.

Her reflection only appeared in the mirror behind them but Hunter’s had vanished.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(flashback to one of the Golden Guard’s past)

“Everyone trying out today is seriously disappointing,” the Golden Guard muttered. “Did you all hear what I said? You’re pathetic. Stop wasting my time and go home!”

He turned his back to the crowd and began walking away but was met by a teenage Darius with crossed arms and a knowing look on his face.

“We all met or exceeded the Emperor’s expectations today; you’re his right-hand man and number one recruiter. Seems like you’re the disappointment, not us.”

The Golden Guard frowned.

“I could have you arrested for treason—why are you challenging me?”

Darius took a step forward to get in his face.

“Because you won’t. I’ve seen you break your own rules, Golden Guard,” he spat. “You’re hiding things from the Emperor.”

While his neutral frown didn’t change, Darius swore he saw his hands shaking as he pushed past him.

“Let me into a coven so I can—“

“So you can what?” he whispered, whipping around. “Help me dismantle the empire that was built on a system of lies that are meant to drain the Boiling Isles of magic and life itself?”

Darius staggered backward, eyes widened.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he sneered, and then continued walking away.

Darius stared and then felt a hand on his shoulder. Alador had caught up to him.

“Are you coming back to class? Whatever he said… just forget it. We can try out again next time.”

“Yeah,” Darius replied, still dumbfounded. “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

“If you say so,” Alador shrugged, and ran off.

The Golden Guard lowered his head and clenched his fists.

“It’s better this way,” he said under his breath. “But I can only pull this so many times before he knows.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(back to present)

“What was that?” Willow uttered, gripping her hand on Hunter’s shoulder to pull him closer to her.

“I-I don’t know—I’m not—that’s Darius—“ he stammered, feeling his hands starting to tremble. “T-that’s not me.”

Flapjack cheeped in concern, watching them both stumble backward. The mirror faded to black again.

Another image of a figure that resembled Hunter appeared.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(flashback to one of the Golden Guard’s past)

“I don’t have much time left—he’s not going to wait long after he kills me.”

A female witch grabbed the Golden Guard’s wrists and pulled him back.

“What if he didn’t kill you? What if you ran? Would he even be able to—“

“He’ll find a way. I’ve seen where he keeps…no, that’s really not the right word,” he muttered. “Discarded. I’ve seen where he discarded the ones before me. He’ll just take his pick from there.”

The witch didn’t let go of him.

“I could help, you know.”

He sighed. “It’s kind of you to say so. I’m grateful to everyone who has offered their help but we don’t have enough numbers. We can’t go up against Belos the way our numbers are scattered—“

“That’s not what I mean, Hunter.”

The Golden Guard broke his arm away from her, eyes glazed over.

“Then what is it?” he asked. “What is it that you’ve seen?”

Averting her eyes she instinctively reached for her pendant.

He shook his head before she could answer. “I asked you not to use your clairvoyance on my behalf, Chiarelle. No matter how many outcomes you are able to see you will never be able to determine which one is right until the moment has passed. Please,” his voice faltered, “let me meet my fate so you can follow yours.”

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(back to present)

“She said my name—“

“It wasn’t you, Hunter,” Willow said, squeezing his hand.

“H-he just—was I just—were we all…” he failed to finish his sentence.

The mirror that just faded to black returned to its ordinary reflective state and the echoes of their voices finally died down.

“I don’t know who that was …but Darius was—“

“Remember how I said this reminds me of the Blight mansion?”

Hunter only responded by taking a few deep breaths.

“I think whoever built this place was a very, very powerful oracle witch.”

“That…but that wasn’t the future—Darius, he looked almost our age. And I—sorry, Not Me looked older—“

“Oracle magic isn’t just about foresight—“

“I know that but that wasn’t me. My blood but not me,” he exasperated. “How do you explain that?”

Willow looked at him with a small grimace.

“You’re a grimwalker,” she said matter-of-factly.

He winced.

“You’re probably carrying the blood of a very long line of grimwalkers… whoever built this place either wanted to scare whoever found it or help them. I can’t really say for sure which.”

He knew the answer before she spoke but he just couldn’t say it out loud himself.

Willow picked up the knife and held it to her hand, studying it in front of the mirror.

“Don’t be stupid,” Hunter said, watching her. Willow glanced back without turning her head and then returned her gaze to the mirror.

“I want to test something,” she said, and then poked her finger with the tip of the blade, watching a small bead of blood settle on her fingertip. Clover buzzed nervously behind her and Flapjack hid himself inside Hunter’s shirt.

Paralyzed by her choice, Hunter watched Willow reach for her reflection and gently tapped the mirror so the drop of blood smeared on the surface. She stepped back quickly, still standing in front of Hunter. It faded into the mirror almost immediately and their reflections vanished once again.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(Flashback in Willow’s life)

“What am I supposed to do with you?” a witch that resembled Willow said, glaring at the baby the man in front of her was holding. “She has no place in my life. Tell me what to do with her!”

The baby whimpered, so the man lifted his hand in front of her so she could hold onto one of his fingers. They were gnarly but easy to grasp.

“She has my grip,” he said in a gritty but soft voice. The baby had stopped crying when her eyes met his.

“She has no place in your life either,” the woman said dryly. “Not in your line of work.”

“You’re just giving excuses,” he said, finally responding her. “You never wanted to be a mother, Rose, but here we are.”

“You sound like my brother.”

“Maybe that’s where she belongs,” he said, turning his back to her, cradling the child. “But how can I know that when you refuse to introduce me to your family because you’re ashamed of me but our daughter? How can you be so cold?”

Rose’s eyes hardened. When she saw the joy Willow brought to his face her body started trembling with rage. He wasn’t even paying attention to her; his eyes were locked on their daughter’s face, which now looked a bit sleepy. He may have looked gruff around the edges but his face softened at every glimpse he caught. His whole body felt warm while holding her.

“Willow deserves nothing but a life of love and happiness,” he said quietly. “So why can’t that be with her father?”

“How can you cuddle and coo at it when all I feel is—is emptiness?” she shrilled, calling to her staff. Instinctively, the man cowered, covering Willow’s head with his large hands.

“This is your fault, anyway,” she cracked, pointing her staff at him. “Give her to me and I will leave you in peace.”

“You don’t want her—let me go back home and I can raise her in the human realm! She would be safer there anyway—“

A bright light crackled and flashed, making the ground beneath them shake. In seconds, Willow was now in Rose’s arms and the man was knocked face-down in front of her.

Before Rose could make another a move, a shattering sound rang through the air.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(back to present)

Willow, heaving, was still holding onto the knife that she had thrusted into the wall behind the mirror. Her eyes welled with tears but her fury did not diminish. Fragments of the glass scattered everywhere and Hunter had recoiled to the ground, covering his ears.

Clover hesitantly flew out from behind her and landed on her arm that was holding the blade. Her jaw was locked but her expression contorted into grief. She felt herself shaking but she couldn’t move.

Hunter looked up and Flapjack peeped out from his shirt, still half-shielding his eyes. They watched a tear fall from her cheek and Hunter cautiously got up to stand in front of her.

She was staring at the epicenter where she stuck the knife. In slow movements he carefully place his hands one at a time on hers and waited until she lifted her gaze to meet his.

He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to. Gently, he prodded one finger at a time from the handle and the second it was free, Willow collapsed in front of him. Hunter pulled the knife out of the wall and placed it back in its sheath that was hanging from his belt.

“The test,” she spluttered, “it passed the test.”

Hunter got down to his knees so he could rest his hand on her back. He looked down the tunnel at the countless mirrors that were still intact.

“So it can show us our past… even memories that aren’t quite our own.”

Willow nodded, wiping her face on her sleeve.

“So you didn’t know…”

“I didn’t know my father was human?” she said, finishing his sentence.

He bit his lip. Hearing it out loud sounded crazy.

“I don’t think my parents ever knew,” she said quietly. “I don’t think Rose ever told them.”

“How did he even… how did he find the Boiling Isles?”

“Maybe the question is, how did Rose find the Human Realm?”

They looked at each other and then down the tunnel. Some of the firefly lilies were beginning to wilt.

“Did you still want to cut your hair?” Hunter asked, glancing back at her distorted reflection in the shattered mirror.

“Not just yet,” she said, pulling it back into a low ponytail. “Soon, though. Maybe when we get to the end of the tunnel.”

“Why do you want to hold off?”

“There’s something about this place that makes me not want to leave anything behind.”

They both looked at the tiny cuts on their fingers and shuddered. Walking into the unknown all of a sudden sounded a lot better than getting swallowed up by lost memories.

--

(added: a doodle of [traumatized] Willow!)

Chapter Text

Chapter 29 – Speak of the Dead

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Willow retorted, not trying to sound upset.

Hunter wrapped his arms around himself, letting out a deep sigh. He felt queasy after witnessing moments of his past lives. That’s what he decided to call them, anyway, the grimwalkers before him. The one Darius had met must have been the one right before him but the other one? The other one he wasn’t sure. At least they both seemed noble in some way.

Willow’s past was more piercing than his, though. Flapjack shed light on his origin years ago but for Willow to just now learn she was half-human? Was her father, her human father, still alive? Did he ever return to the Human Realm or has he survived on the Boiling Isles all this time?

“Do you think…if he’s still out there…do you think he’s looking for me?”

Hunter looked at Willow, who was twisting the ends of her hair with eyes glazed over. He was quiet for a moment and then wrapped one arm around her waist. They continued to walk without making eye contact.

“Based on what we saw? He must be.”

“If he’s even alive,” Willow drooped. “I could barely imagine having a mother in my life… and now? Three dads, total? Is that even allowed?”

She meant it as a joke but her voice sounded broken.

“Well I could use a dad, maybe you could lend me one of yours,” Hunter offered.

Willow stifled a small laugh and pushed her hair back behind her.

“When we get married they will become your dads too,” she said. “All of them.”

Hunter’s face felt warm as he turned his head away and caught sight of his own reflection. How can she say things like that so casually? His chest felt like it was on fire.

“Do you,” he coughed, “do you think they would be excited about that?”

“About having a son-in-law?”

“About us.”

“Hm,” she started, “I think they are expecting it. At least, they were expecting something. They could tell I liked you.”

“Back then? You can’t be serious. We were barely—I mean, I didn’t even go to Hexside—“

“Yeah, but you came over a decent amount after we started the flyer derby team. I bragged about you even before you walked me home the first time.”

“Oh?” Hunter asked in a sly tone. “You bragged about me?”

“You were the best flyer,” she blushed, “and you are the reason it was able to happen in the first place!”

“Anything else you bragged about?” he smirked. “My roguish good looks, maybe?”

Willow’s face flushed into a deep crimson before she sputtered, “N-no, I couldn’t tell my parents that, not without them teasing me about it!”

“But you do think I have roguish good looks?”

She rolled her eyes and he laughed.

“I did like you back then, you know? Maybe not deeply… maybe not exactly a crush.. but I did like spending time with you.”

“But I bothered you too,” he replied matter-of-factly. “You couldn’t trust me.”

Willow looked up at Hunter, who had just let go of her waist and crossed his arms.

“I’ll admit,” she said, “I was hesitant at first when you decided to continue playing with us. I was excited but you’re right; trusting you wasn’t exactly easy after what you did.

“But you kept coming. We all knew you were still the Golden Guard so maybe you were allowed to play with us just so you could spy but I personally thought that it could have been just an excuse you made up so you could play.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think you came up with a fake mission to spy on us at Hexside just so you could have a couple of hours of fun each week. You deserved it anyway; you were a kid who never had a childhood.”

Hunter smiled softly and Flapjack fluttered into his hands.

“Did you or the Emerald Entrails ever…pity me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he answered quietly, petting Flapjack on the head. “I see.”

“We weren’t friends with you because we felt sorry for you, Hunter—if that’s what you’re worried about—but we did feel sorry for you sometimes. It just seemed like you didn’t live a fair life. We hoped you’d eventually abandon the Emperor’s coven but we also knew that wasn’t an option. Not an easy option, anyway.”

“You were right about making up an excuse,” he said, not acknowledging Willow’s explanation for their pity. “I told Belos it was a mission to recruit more students but also to spy on the human. I never lied to him per say, but I definitely left a lot of things out.

“Of course, he figured it out in the end. That’s why we’re here.”

They were quiet again for a few minutes. It had been a while since they both had talked about their arrival to this place and discussed their future. They had their present mission which was to walk the perimeter and keep a look out for answers. Finding this tunnel was a huge deal; they hadn’t seen a trace of intelligent life since their encounter with the first lighthouse. Somebody built this place.

“Hunter, stop,” Willow said, catching his shoulder. Ahead of them was a wall.

“Is that it? We walked to a dead end?”

Clover buzzed her way above their heads.

They both looked up; there was a trap door.

--

After they each finished coughing a fit from the dust cloud that emerged, Hunter and Willow backed up into one another, marveling at what they saw. It had to be the lighthouse—there was a staircase that spiraled upward. The center of the room, however, didn’t seem like a lighthouse at all.

Not that the last one did either, Hunter thought to himself. Unlike the tunnels, the brick walls of the room were not layered with mirrors. Instead, crystals of all sizes and colors surrounded the room. When Hunter activated a light glyph it seemed as if the entire room started twinkling.

“Why do I feel cold and warm at the same time?” Willow asked, scanning the glittering room.

She closed the trapdoor and looked behind where Hunter was standing.

A small “oh,” escaped Willow’s mouth.

Hunter turned around. Hidden in the shadows under the staircase was the distinct shape of an upright coffin.

“Oh.”

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 30 – Speak of the Dead: Part II

-flashback (Chiarelle’s)-

Chiarelle was hurt, but Hunter’s dismissive order did not deter her from her plans to save him… or at least, the next him. The place she had discovered just outside of Bonesborough was the answer. It was warped by wild magic, likely fabricated by the Isles themselves.

She had gone out by herself after meeting with the Golden Guard at the Emperor’s castle. It was risky enough to meet at all but to the public, it was hardly something out of the ordinary. Chiarelle had been recruited to act as the Golden Guard’s informant; she was a wild witch that specialized in both illusions and oracle magic. Emperor Belos had heard of her and announced in the public square that the Titan had enlightened him that she, while still a wild witch, could be of purpose: so long as it served the Emperor.

She could be his eyes and so much more!

That’s what Hunter had described when he got close to capturing her and that’s when Chiarelle realized the Golden Guard wasn’t exactly the image all of the coven scouts painted him to be. His voice was shaking as he stood his ground, fighting back the haunting illusions she had surrounded him with. That’s when she realized he had come alone and not with his usual troop under his command.

“Come on, witch! I can’t…I can’t go back empty-handed.”

Chiarelle pounced through her illusions while simultaneously knocking the staff out of his hand and pulling his mask away. He fell back and she pressed her foot against his chest, shoving him into the ground. The wide-eyed, once feared Golden Guard, was now at her mercy.

This had Chiarelle a bit perplexed. Any other witch would not have given up so easily but his expression startled her. It was blank.

“I’ll meet a worser fate if you don’t kill me now,” he had accepted. “I can’t…go back.”

She didn’t take her weight off of his chest but she pulled her own staff away from his face. “Why do I all of a sudden pity you, Golden Guard?” she had asked. “Are you…powerless, without your staff? Are you even a witch at all?”

He clenched his fists but did not back down his hopeless, intent look.

“Why do I even bother asking, I’ll just get the answers myself—“

“Wait! What are you—“

Chiarelle did not wait. She couldn’t trust him, after all. She needed his memories to give her the answers. In one quick swoop, she nicked the side of his cheek with a sharp end on her staff that collected a small drop of blood. The small mirrored globe on the end of her staff absorbed it and Chiarelle’s eyes glowed as she locked her eyes on the images appearing on the surface. The Golden Guard struggled beneath her but she kept her foot firm and he could not escape. She could feel he was starting to hyperventilate, a common side-effect when one is forced to relive their own memories, but it would be over soon. The images began flashing by faster and faster as she began to absorb all of the information she could of his life and what he knows and Hunter (she learned his name) could feel the pressure of her foot decreasing by the second.

Chiarelle nearly collapsed, catching her foot on the ground by Hunter’s hip. He scrambled his way out, frantically looking for his staff, but Chiarelle caught his eyes again and he froze.

“It’s… it’s so much worse than I thought,” she whispered. “How could you stay, knowing what you know?”

“How much do you know?”

“How much of what you know he knows?”

“Ugh, you’re confusing me—this is why I’ve never liked oracle magic,” Hunter said, breaking away, putting his hand to his head. “Now that you feel sorry for me, will you at least give me something to bring back?”

“He doesn’t know, then; you’re trying to keep it that way.”

“Obviously,” he huffed, crossing his arms. Now that her illusions had dissipated, he felt a bit less on edge. She looked more concerned than defensive now. “Where is my staff?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she said, waving her hand after having spun a spell circle to keep it hidden. “I’m not going to give you anything to serve the Emperor—but maybe I can help you, grimwalker.”

Hunter felt his stomach churn.

“You might have figured that out about yourself but I’ve learned more than you can see yourself; I’ve taken your blood, remember? I just saw snippets of some of your past lives.”

His eyes hardened and locked with hers. “That’s not—that’s not how grimwalkers even work—“

“Do you want my help or not?” Chiarelle had her hand on her hip and the other holding her staff. “Hunter?”

“That’s not—“

“I get it, it’s a sick inside joke for ‘Belos’, but you don’t have any other name, do you?”

“I don’t.”

“Did you want one?”

“I… I don’t know. I haven’t had time to think about it.”

Chiarelle watched his stature soften. He wasn’t backing up anymore so she walked up and cautiously took his hand. Somewhat reluctantly he allowed it, and they both sat down in the dry grass.

“I can show you, you know. Some of your past lives, that is.”

“No thank you,” he said, pulling his hand away. “I… I know enough.”

--

(back to present time in the 2nd lighthouse)

“It’s…it’s not locked,” Hunter finally spoke, tracing his hand on the side of the coffin. A clump of dust stuck to his fingers. He shook it off and looked behind him. Willow had been bracing herself for something to spring out for the last few minutes but nothing had happened yet. He was impressed at her lack of fear, or at least, the lack of showing it.

The outside of the coffin, even under the dust, was a simple design. There was a small image in the center that resembled the symbol of the Golden Guard, but it appeared to have been carved rather poorly. Hunter’s heart pounded as he wiped the dust away, and Willow’s hand fell on his shoulder.

“It’s not possible, is it?” he whispered. “Caleb was—this can’t be his—“

“I agree, this can’t be Caleb’s,” Willow answered firmly. “But we should prepare ourselves; it’s possible one of the past grimwalkers made it here, just like us.”

Hunter swallowed and stepped back.

“I might have been able to dig my own grave but I-I I don’t think I can—“

Willow nodded and her hand left his shoulder when she stepped forward.

“I’m literally the walking dead,” Hunter mumbled as his forehead slumped onto Willow’s back. “Why do I feel afraid?”

“It’s not death you’re afraid of,” Willow stated, placing her hand where Hunter’s was on the side of the coffin. “It’s the unknown. That’s normal, alive or undead.”

“Thanks for that assurance,” he mumbled again, standing up a bit straighter. Willow braved a small smile, and then curled her fingers under the lid.

“Ready?”

Hunter called for Flapjack to transform into his staff.

“Ready.”

--

-flashback (Chiarelle’s)-

“If this is going to work, I need something more to trust you. You learned the truth about yourself and you’re still serving Belos—“

“If I don’t, he’ll know—“

“I know you’re doing this to keep yourself safe but what are you doing to take him down? You can’t just… let him continue!”

“I’m literally powerless, did you forget that?”

Chiarelle pulled a mirror with a handle out from her pocket and laid it out in front of them.

“What is this supposed to—“

“I told you I am not going to give you anything to serve the emperor but I can give you this,” she said, tracing two fingers around the rim of the mirror and then grabbed Hunter’s wrist and started to pull off his glove. He flinched, pulling his hand back. “I’m enchanting this mirror so you and you alone can use it so I’m going to need your hand, okay?”

He let his arm relax and she removed the glove, holding it up.

“Stay still for a second, okay?” she asked, reaching her other hand in her pocket and then pulled out a small fountain pen. Red droplets splat on the grass after she shook it for a couple of seconds to get it going. His eyes widened when she drew a small glyph combination on the palm of his hand.

“You’ll be able to wash your hands later,” Chiarelle said, and then guided his hand to lay flat on the center of the mirror. Hunter watched, nearly dumbfounded, as she concentrated on spinning a spell circle around his hand. The mirror glowed for a moment, and then returned to its ordinary state.

“I’ve enchanted it so the only people who can use this mirror is you or me! So in a sense, you will not go back empty-handed, technically.”

“That…that was wild magic.”

“What else would have it been, Golden Guard?”

He was quiet for a moment, and then wiped his hand on the ground.

“There’s some oracle magic that can make some witches uncomfortable,” Chiarelle said, filling the silence. “And now that you have my blood on your hands, literally, I think I feel comfortable enough to start building some trust.”

Hunter started wiping his hand even harder on the grass.

“What am I supposed to tell Belos with this?”

“Don’t be a fool by showing it to him; you are going to tell him you struck an agreement with me.”

“What kind of agreement?”

Chiarelle took the reflective ball out of her staff after handing him the mirror.

“You are going to tell him that I’ve agreed to helping the Emperor but on my terms. It just means whatever information he wants from me will have to come from you,” she said, tapping the ball as Hunter’s face appeared, distorted in the reflection. A translucent image of herself appeared in the mirror as well.

“We can still meet in person from time to time of course, but this will be much safer for the both of us if you think about it.”

“Belos doesn’t agree to anything unless it’s on his own terms; he’s not going to like this.”

“If he doesn’t like it, you can tell him I know about Caleb.”

“Who—“

“It’s better if you don’t know because if you did I’m sure he’d see right through you.”

He shuddered. He could take a guess at who this ‘Caleb’ was, but he really did not want to think about it. This plan was no riskier than going back with nothing… but somehow, it seemed more dangerous.

Chiarelle stood up, holding a staff in each hand.

“I can tell you’re worried about me,” she said, handing him his staff. “There’s really no need—I won’t be giving Belos proper information. It will be close enough to the truth for him to keep asking for it I suppose but he won’t be suspicious. At least for a while.”

Hesitantly, he accepted it. He put the mirror in his pocket and then offered his hand to shake.

“Before I knew the truth, all I could worry about were the witches who remained deluded in the practice of wild magic,” he said, keeping eye contact with her. “But now? I realize I didn’t understand what fear was.

“I don’t fear for you; but I do feel the need to warn you: do not underestimate him. He’s in control of so much more than anyone on the Boiling Isles realizes.”

Chiarelle’s mouth gaped slightly open, but she nodded, and shook his hand.

“Whatever you do, Golden Guard… make sure you survive, okay? You’re our only man on the inside now.”

“Our?”

Chiarelle smirked. “I’m not the only one here who doesn’t trust someone who hides behind a mask, you know.”

“I guess… I’ll be seeing you then,” he said, feeling his face get warm behind his own mask that he finally put back on.

“Good luck!” she shouted, waving goodbye as he took off. He’s going to need it, isn’t he? “The emperor is so much sicker than any of us thought,” she murmured to herself. “I really hope my threat doesn’t backfire.”

--

(back to present time in the second lighthouse)

Willow cringed the second she saw what laid inside the coffin leaning against the wall. Hunter, however, nearly jumped a few feet back. The inside of the lid was a mirror and he had caught sight of his reflection.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone being buried with a mirror, let alone it facing them,” Willow thought out loud, taking Hunter’s hand in hers. “It looks like they’ve been wrapped and possibly mummified; I’m not sure if we will be able to tell who it is… or even why they’re here—or why they’re standing upright—Titan, who does that?”

“Maybe,” Hunter creaked, “someone else has been here. Maybe they were looking for something and moved it?”

“I’m honestly not sure. I’d normally say we shouldn’t disturb the dead but—“

“Unwrap their face. I know it might just be a skull but if it’s a grimwalker it’s not exactly going to have a witch’s body, is it?”

Willow wished that wasn’t the case but she was still curious enough to agree to it. As delicately as she could using Hunter’s knife, she began cutting away some of the wrapping.

--

-flashback (Chiarelle’s)-

Chiarelle had been in contact with the Golden Guard well over a couple of months now. Getting to know him was… odd. At first she was just providing him just-barely-false information to give Belos to buy Hunter time for finding a way to take him down. Eventually their short updates became catch-ups, and the catch-ups eventually grew to hours of them discussing their theories behind the source of wild magic, who Belos really is, and what the human realm was like. She actually began to look forward to meeting up with him when they were able to. He was… more gentle at heart; even though she was able to see his past and where he came from, her first impression of him was almost all wrong.

His genuine curiosity reminded her of a child’s – he grew more enthusiastic if he got a chance to ask her a list of questions he had been keeping in his pocket for a week but the moment he was interrupted by someone in the coven, the enthusiasm would disintegrate. He would answer in a small, flat voice, not allowing any emotions of his get caught. It was painful to watch his handsome, joyous face get crushed by the inevitable.

Handsome? Chiarelle thought to herself. A dry laugh escaped her lips. I must be cursed if I fall for the grimwalker. “We’d be doomed from the start,” she said under her breath, feeling her throat tighten the slightest bit.

“Is that a premonition based on your oracle instincts or—“

Chiarelle turned around, nearly having jumped out of her socks.

“H-how long have you been standing there?”

“For standing next to a master of oracle and illusion magic?” Hunter teased, “An embarrassingly long time.”

“That’s not how it works!”

He smiled softly but his lips were quivering.

“I’m not sure when we’ll be able to meet next; he’s been sending me off on more dangerous missions recently,” he said, reaching for her hand but retracted. “I think he knows but he’s waiting to—I’m not sure why exactly but—“

Chiarelle could see his hands were shaking. It killed her a little inside to see him suffer through the insecurity of uncertainty.

“I know I’ve told you this many times now, but I’m going to say it again: not knowing the future, the real future? That is true peace. It sounds like Belos is just restless…have you at least learned anything from the missions?”

Her hands were even colder than his but the second she tried to calm his trembling, they both felt a sharp static shock. Hunter’s face was even grimmer than before.

“I was able to learn more about how he…created me. Some of the ingredients are so rare I am almost positive he will use me to start the process all over again,” he croaked. “He’s going to kill me and then use my body for spare parts on the next ‘Hunter’.”

Chiarelle’s eyes widened. This was not news to her; she had already witnessed enough memories of his and his past lives to have figured it out. She assumed he put the pieces together back then but he only just realized it now?

A week ago this man had a few ounces of hope and now he looked like he was on the brink of digging his own grave.

“We’ll scrap our original plan, then,” she decided, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “There is a place I’ve once heard of we can go to—I just need to find it first. It shouldn’t take long, I promise.”

“What happened to having a man on the inside?” his voice wobbled. “I have to—“

“Are you a complete buffoon? We are not letting him repeat this cycle—“

“But we need to know who is the Collector—“

“Hunter, for once, let me speak,” she commanded, spinning a small spell circle around his mouth, keeping it shut. “I’m sorry for doing that, I promise I won’t do it again.

“Like I was trying to say, there is a place. It’s not well-known but amongst few oracle witches it is quite the topic. It’s not just theoretical, it’s a real place. Belos must never be allowed to discover it as it is one of the largest sources of wild magic there is and…we can go there. We can live there safely and peacefully!”

After a moment of silence, Hunter pointed to his lips and Chiarelle undid her silencing spell.

“Even if it is a real place, if Belos succeeds, it will cease to exist,” he said quietly. “But if you do find it… will you promise to go, even without me?”

Chiarelle’s heart started sinking.

“Did you miss my point? You’re the one in danger, here,” she said, bowing to him as a few people passed by. She could feel her eyes starting to burn.

“When you find it, let me know. We can meet again,” he said, lifting her chin up so she would face him. “You can give me directions and I can meet you there after I find out who the Collector is.”

Chiarelle fought back the tears welling in her eyes. She could not understand how someone so clever and careful could be so idiotic and blind.

“You’re extremely irritating, anyone ever tell you that?” she said, raising her voice a bit. “I can see into the past and into the future and not once have you chosen to rely on me instead of yourself! I thought building trust worked both ways.”

Hunter, slightly stunned, watched Chiarelle turn her back on him and walk away.

“There’s no need to play hero!” she cried, not turning around. “I told you, I’m not the only one!”

“I—“

“If you think I’m going to wait for you, you are a fool,” she darkened, turning back around. “Reflect on that, okay, Golden Guard? Next time you see me, I hope you’ll have a better answer.”

Hunter watched her leave in silence. A few people in the area began to stare and mutter amongst themselves.

“If he wants his life to continue its tragic cycle, then fine,” Chiarelle spat as she walked. “I’m a patient witch; I’ll just wait for the next one.”

--

(back to the present time in the second lighthouse)

Willow had unwrapped the corpse down to their chest. Their hands were holding a long staff and Willow had just begun unwrapping what was on top of it. Hunter watched intently, grateful the body so far did not seem like a grimwalker’s at all. They had long, greenish hair, their skin was somehow still intact, and he was relatively certain it was a woman.

“H-hunter?” Willow stuttered, backing up. The orb on top of the staff began to glow.

“Um—“ Hunter added, watching the crystals that surrounded them along the walls also starting to glow. “Willow, what’s—“

The corpse’s grip on the staff tightened and Willow fell backwards, tripping Hunter with her. She couldn’t take her gaze away from the body—its eyes had just opened.

“Ah…” the corpse’s jaw creaked, unfolding one of her bony fingers, placing it on the pendant she was wearing. “So you finally learned to rely on someone besides yourself.”

A smile cracked through her skin.

“Who—what are you—“ Willow sputtered, tightening her grip on Hunter’s arm.

“I waited for you, Golden Guard,” the corpse rasped. “I’m touched you kept your promise.”

Hunter was on the ground, paralyzed by confusion. He couldn’t protect Willow, who was holding him back—but even he, a form of the undead, could not fathom speaking to the already dead, the almost certainly definitely dead—

“Don’t be afraid,” the body croaked again.

“Are you kidding me?” Willow shouted, finally standing up. “What kind of trap—who are you even to—I want you to explain what in Titan’s name is going on here!”

The corpse’s eyes rolled down to look at the end of Willow’s staff pointed at her nose. The laugh that came from her diaphragm rattled the whole lighthouse. She loosened her other arm and lifted it slowly as some dust sifted off of her elbow. Her hand uncurled and she pointed it behind Willow.

“Haven’t you put the pieces together, witch?” she grated through her teeth, “I’m here for Hunter.”

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 31 – Unfair

“This is your magic…” Hunter observed, glancing at the crystals glowing against the walls. “It’s getting weaker, isn’t it? Just a second ago your staff was glowing bright; it’s a bit dimmer now.”

The body in the coffin closed her hands around the orb on her staff.

“It’s true, Hunter; from what I’ve learned since you encountered my path of mirrors… only a few decades have passed. I may not have aged long but now that you have reawakened me… the crystals will be drained in a day or two’s time.”

“Is that how you knew his name? By spying on us?”

Willow continued to stand firmly between her and Hunter, even though he couldn’t take his eyes off of hers. She just looked… familiar.

“Since I am on borrowed time I will refrain from playing any sort of games. Is this acceptable enough for you to put down your staff?”

Willow didn’t move.

“Let’s just hear her out,” Hunter said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We have a higher advantage no matter where we stand—she’s clearly getting weaker as we speak.”

Her eyes narrowed, but Willow let go of her staff and Clover immediately nestled herself into her companion’s hair.

“If you are lying to us, you will regret it,” she seethed.

The corpse smiled, cracking some of the dry skin that was still attached to her skull.

“Thank you,” she said, and unraveled the remaining amount of cloth that kept her body secured in the coffin. “You know who I am, don’t you Hunter?”

“I-I don’t,” he stuttered, watching some of the hair on her head fall to the ground. She shook her head, continuing to smile. Carefully taking one foot out and using her staff to hold her weight, the corpse was able to stand up on her own.

“I know you are not the same Hunter I once knew,” she went on, “but you are Belos’ grimwalker, aren’t you? One of them, I mean.”

Hunter could feel his hand tremors coming back.

“I waited for him here,” she said, soaking in her surroundings. “He broke his promise to follow me, but that was inevitable.”

Willow’s expression remained unchanged, but she held Hunter’s hands when she noticed them shaking.

“I was the coward, in the end... but I thought if I couldn’t save him then maybe I could save him later. I could find something here and come back—“

“Do you have a way to return to the Boiling Isles?” Hunter interrupted, processing what she was sharing.

She frowned, but cradled the orb on top of her staff.

“If I did, do you think you would have found me here?” she asked in a softer tone. “I only built this place because I had no other choice. I’ve searched all over this island; the portal to return isn’t in any single location. You’re not meant to find it; it’s meant to find you.”

Willow suddenly felt light-headed; she leaned on Hunter, still holding one of his hands.

“What you’re saying is it’s hopeless,” Hunter replied, looking down at the ground. He couldn’t face either of them, not knowing how he felt inside upon hearing that.

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear,” she answered, watching their expressions.

“Why did you, then?” Willow demanded, looking up. “Why did you build this place? What good is it to us? To Hunter? So far all it has done is traumatize us; what in Titan’s name do you have to offer now that you’re clinging to life like this?”

“My name is Chiarelle,” the corpse spoke, looking directly at Hunter. “I know my name may not mean much to you but I did all of this for you. So you could learn about who you are and where you came from, with whatever life I would have left when you found me.

“I was the most powerful wild witch on the Boiling Isles in my time; Belos was inclined to either use my oracle and illusion magic or kill me before I could overthrow him. He wanted to use his grimwalker to do his dirty work but as you can see,” she said, nodding to the crystals that surrounded them, “he did not anticipate Hunter to have already figured out what he was really plotting. He did not anticipate Hunter to have already figured out who he really was to Belos before sending him off to try and recruit me.

“Ha!” she croaked, “Can you imagine? A grimwalker trying to convince me the Emperor wanted to use my powers for good?”

Chiarelle continued smirking to herself when Willow spoke up again.

“Did Belos really give…all of the grimwalkers… the same name? Caleb was his brother. How could he—“

“So you know that much, do you?” she mused, studying Hunter’s scars on his face. “Then you must know Belos had no feeling for them aside from disgust. Each of them was a soldier he could use and as soon as they lost their purpose he would destroy them and create another one. It takes great power and sacrifice to bring anything to life but to Belos it was nothing.”

“He felt…nothing,” Hunter echoed, still staring at the ground in front of him. “I was nothing to him.”

“Hunter,” Willow said sternly, turning his head to face hers. Their eyes met and his face flushed.

“I-I know I’m not nothing, Willow,” he stuttered, turning away. “It just… hurts to hear that every one of us—every Hunter—was just thorn in his boot the second we’d question a single order. A thorn he could pull out and cast aside. I bet he has never looked back at them—he never thought to give me a different name, he never saw us as individuals. I was just a copy of a copy of another copy—it didn’t matter to him who I was because I was always the same thing to him.”

Willow traced her fingers along the scar on his cheek, cradling his face.

“That’s Belos’ flaw,” she said, kissing his forehead. “You were—you are an individual; so were the others. His failure is inevitable.”

Hunter’s face felt even warmer when his eyes met Chiarelle’s. He could not decipher the expression on her face; although, it was difficult to decipher any expression on her face since it was somewhat falling apart.

“Belos’ downfall is yet to come,” she stated flatly, watching their affection diminish when her craggly voice interrupted. “You didn’t take him down.”

“No,” Willow said, facing her. “We barely got away with our lives—but it’s been years. We… we don’t know what’s happened since we left.”

“Not much, I imagine,” Chiarelle said, letting her eyes wander to the mirror inside the lid of her coffin. “If you want my advice, it’s time for you to get comfortable here. As I said, it’s pointless to search for a way back. The Boiling Isles will find you when you and your family are ready to return.”

“Comfortable…here?”

“Me and my…family?”

Chiarelle smiled again, but it was more gentle than creepy this time. “You find it difficult to trust me; I understand,” she said quietly, placing her hand on the mirror. Vague images blurred into view but changed rapidly as her hand pressed a bit harder on the surface. “You should never give your blood to an untrustworthy oracle witch; they could destroy you.”

An eerie jolt shot through Hunter’s veins and Willow held her breath. The crystals around them grew even dimmer.

“Why haven’t you?” Willow hesitated, stepping closer.

A blurred image came into focus and Hunter covered his mouth, recognizing it instantly.

“I told you; I waited here. For him,” she said, watching the image of Hunter appear in the mirror. Willow appeared as well. Their eyes locked on their ‘reflections’ and froze as the images transformed into thousands of more, showing every moment they shared from the moment they arrived here.

Every moment.

“Tha-that’s enough!” Hunter yelped, knocking Chiarelle’s hand away from the mirror. Her eyes glowed as she turned her head to face them again.

“I’m going to need that if you still want me to give you what you want,” she rasped, checking to see if her forearm was still locked into her elbow. “How many times do I need to repeat myself? I waited here. For you. Let me give you what we never could have had!”

Willow cringed at her voice growing shrill but she did not back down. “You don’t have much time left, not after you used your magic like that just now. What is it that you want from us?”

Chiarelle sighed and took a step closer to the coffin, leaning against it.

“The tunnel you came through—just follow it back when you leave. It ends where you want to be.”

“No more riddles,” Hunter sputtered, taking a step forward.

Ignoring him, she removed the pendant that was hanging on her neck and held it in front of them. “I need your hands,” she ordered. “Release your palismen from your staffs. I might be the most powerful oracle witch to have ever lived but we still need witnesses for this to work.”

Willow’s eyes widened.

“You’re an oracle witch,” Hunter echoed again, letting go of his staff. Flapjack fluttered onto his shoulder.

“Quickly now,” she insisted, already wrapping the chain that held the pendant around his and Willow’s hand. Clover peeped out from her hair with big eyes.

Holding both of their hands wrapped together with the pendant she looked down at both of them. Their hearts were beating incredibly fast and Hunter was sweating.

“There’s no need to worry,” she said as gently as she could, holding their hands tighter.

Willow looked at Hunter who had already turned his head to face her. Her eyes glistened and he blinked back a couple of tears.

“Can this really happen?” he asked, not breaking his gaze from Willow’s. “Y-you don’t feel rushed, do you?”

She stifled a small laugh. Hunter had a nervous grin on his face but he looked like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Honestly? Yes, I do. There’s a lot of pressure coming from this nearly-dead corpse that’s holding our hands,” Willow paused, noticing his face starting to fall. “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? I just thought we’d get married back home, you know? Surrounded by our friends, with my parents. I never thought we’d come upon this… opportunity—“

Chiarelle loosened her grip around their hands.

“You have a few hours until I am at my last breath,” she whispered.

Willow swallowed. She was ready. She had been ready for a while now…but in her mind she had already accepted they couldn’t get married until they returned. They both accepted they would have to wait but now right in front of them is a witch who not only has the magic and power but also the will. A witch that also built a wall of mirrors that invaded the privacy of their personal subconscious. A witch that slept in a coffin for who knows how long just to wait for Hunter to show up?

“Who were you, to Hunter, exactly?” she asked, after Chiarelle’s hands left theirs. The pendant remained remained loosely wrapped around their hands and she could feel Hunter’s sweat drip off of her fingers. It looked like there were a million thoughts racing through his mind.

“I’ve spent decades wondering that myself, dear witch,” she forlorned. “He was never my friend; but I had hoped that one day, instead of continuing our agreement, he would become so. Or more than so.”

“You knew it wouldn’t turn out that way, why bother hoping at all?”

Her jaw creaked open, a bit startled by Hunter’s interjection. “I might be able to look into possible futures but that does not mean anything I see is set in stone. You have a tragic past, dear Golden Guard, the possible futures for you are nearly all grim as your state of being… but you could also be the one to end that, don’t you think?”

They were both quiet for a moment.

“What do you know about grimwalkers?” Willow asked, watching her expression distort from thoughtful to curious.

“Enough to give you some peace of mind,” she said, but did not elaborate further. “I know it aches the both of you to be trapped here without being united; what is giving you pause?”

Willow felt her face get hot and looked at Hunter. He was already looking at her, waiting for her answer. Titan. He had thought about this for so long there is no way he would turn this down—he was waiting for her. All of the promises he had been reciting every night…he was serious. She knew he was serious, but why did it feel like if she accepted this now, right in this moment, that they would be bound to this island for eternity? She knew it was possible they would be stuck here regardless, but still--

“I promise, that getting married doesn’t mean we’ll stop looking. It doesn’t mean we would turn down a portal if it came to find us—I’m not, we’re not giving up on your parents, okay?”

Willow’s eyes burned. His voice was so incredibly earnest it killed her inside she was hesitating.

“I want my life with you,” she finally blurted, immediately annoyed at herself for sounding so foolish. Hunter leaned in to kiss her softly on the lips. “I… I’m just—I know me, of all witches, should be okay with this, sometimes that’s just how it has to be—“

“It doesn’t,” Hunter whispered in her ear. “It doesn’t have to be. We’re allowed to keep waiting—“

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, that’s not what I want,” she cried, shoving her face into his chest. “I don’t want to wait,” she muffled into him. “It’s unfair.”

They were both quiet again for a minute or two.

“Then what if we waited for an hour?”

“An hour?” Willow lifted her head.

“Chiarelle said we have a few hours but what if we waited for just an hour?” he proposed, opening up their awkward embrace. “Let’s talk, think, cut your hair if you want to—we can use an hour to feel a little more mentally prepared, right?”

Willow frowned. It wasn’t much time, not really, but when she met his eyes she had her answer.

“Okay,” she accepted. “Will you marry me, Hunter? In an hour?”

“In an hour,” he beamed, kissing her again.

Joy flooded Willow’s heart. Yes, it hurt to make this choice… but it was right. She wasn’t sure how she’d explain it to her parents when they found them but they would figure it out. Together.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32 – Sacramental 

They are married now.

They are married now.

It was comforting but surreal.

Hunter reflected on the day before, remembering how tightly he was squeezing Willow’s hand as they watched Chiarelle crumble to dust. His heart had never felt so full but it ached—he never imagined he’d feel so overwhelmed by something he had waited for…for so long.

--

(The night before)

“I think we should bury her,” Willow had whispered, unable to look away from the coffin. “It doesn’t feel right to leave her like this.”

He shivered.

“Or we could scatter her—“

“She’s truly gone, Willow—I-I’m not—I think you’re right.”

“This lighthouse can remain her home; I think it’s fitting.”

“Why do you say that?”

“She was waiting—well, not waiting for you, exactly, but she wanted to remain a beacon for whichever grimwalker that managed to break away,” Willow replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. “It was strange, but she was a light in our own tunnel of darkness.”

“She told us to give up, Willow.”

A chill breezed between them as she stared at her spouse.

Her spouse.

“I’ll admit, the way she spoke was confusing—but I’m fairly certain that’s not what she meant.”

Hunter smiled softly and kissed her temple.

“Remember how I said we’re allowed to keep waiting?”

“And we did; we waited an hour,” Willow stated, not breaking her gaze. It was an hour that she would never forget.

“We’ve been searching for a way back, a way off this island, this place, for years. Every chance of hope we’ve come across has been squashed by one thing or another—I’m not trying to say getting married here was a way of giving up—“

“Why would—“

“—but I think it was Chiarelle’s way of telling us to accept our current circumstances.”

Willow stood up, holding onto Hunter’s shoulder as got up. She had accepted their circumstances a long time ago; she was certain that they both had. Twirling the ends of her hair, she looked down to see Hunter’s hopeful expression staring back at her.

“My dads are so going to kill us,” she choked, not even realizing tears had formed in her eyes.

Hunter’s expression did not change but he got up and hugged his spouse tightly. His spouse. He found tears forming in his eyes as well. “And when we see them again, we’ll let them.”

Willow nodded into his chest, feeling warmer than usual. This wasn’t exactly the wedding she had pictured in her mind for them—because yes, she had let herself daydream about it occasionally. They weren’t surrounded by their friends or family but they had each other, their palismen, and their lives ahead.

--

After scattering what was left of Chiarelle across the ground inside the lighthouse, Hunter and Willow lowered her coffin into the end of the tunnel. Inside the coffin was Chiarelle’s staff, orb, and…Willow’s hair. Somehow, it no longer felt unsafe to cut and leave it here.

It was quiet in the mirrored tunnel but somehow it did not feel nearly as eerie as it was before. Hunter looked at Willow’s reflection beside his own and he smiled when he saw half of Chiarelle’s pendant hanging on her neck. The other half hung on his own. Chiarelle had explained the pendant no longer held any power or magic after binding them in marriage but she asked if they would hold onto it in memory for what she did. The magic was now a part of their souls—and this is why you need an oracle witch to perform the ceremony. Marriage between witches and demons has always been more than a promise of fidelity and commitment; it is a binding of souls spell that completes itself over time.

When Hunter cut her hair and she felt the locks fall down beside her, Willow felt her very soul being touched by his. If a simple moment as this made her feel like that, she could only imagine what even closer moments would feel like.

Her face felt hot all of a sudden and when she looked up at Hunter she noticed he had paused and was also quite red in the face.

“Are you going to finish?” she teased him.

“Y-yes—obviously—“ he stumbled, nearly dropping his knife.

“I could trim your hair too, if you want me too,” she said a little more quietly. “I know you prefer to keep it a bit shorter.”

A clatter echoed down the tunnel and Willow turned around. Hunter had staggered and his hands were shaking. She jumped up, still with half of her hair uncut, to catch him before he fell.

“This is—I can’t believe—this is just really embarrassing,” he began sputtering, his knees feeling weak. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”

Willow stared at him. He was sweating.

“Love?” she guessed, but not whole-heartedly. It felt more complicated than that.

“No!” he spat, immediately regretting his tone of voice. “I’m just-I think I’m—how is it this overwhelming?” he laughed nervously, finally leaning into her support more completely. “I didn’t think it would—I mean, will it always feel like this?”

The concern in his voice was alarming but sweet. She grasped both of his trembling hands and sat him down. Hunter watched her pick up the blade that had jumped from his hands to finish cutting the rest of her hair in a single chop.

“You can help me trim the ends when you’re feeling calm again.”

Willow gently placed the rest of her hair in the coffin surrounding the staff and then sat next to him, taking one of his hands again.

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Both Clover and Flapjack rested in Hunter’s lap until his breathing returned to a normal pace.

“It may not mean much,” Willow started, “But even the way my parents described this feeling… I don’t know,” she said, still not sure how to say what she was thinking. Her free hand rested on her chest, next to the half-pendant. “It’s still not exactly what I expected—you don’t have to feel bad for getting overwhelmed, okay?”

“Chiarelle didn’t say anything about—“

“It’s possible she only knew as much as we did… or maybe she felt it unnecessary to mention,” Willow shrugged.

“Why did it suddenly come on when I started cutting your hair, though?” he asked, raising his voice. “Not when we were hold hands before, or when—“

Willow’s face flushed.

“I think it’s because for me, it was special. It’s special to you too of course! But…with you, cutting my hair became more than symbolic I think. It became sacramental.”

Hunter’s face was still puzzled and Willow’s face grew pinker when she realized she was going to have to explain even more.

“It was… both a physically and emotionally intimate moment between us and since we’re married now, our souls are like…not exactly one but they’re connected and the magic that holds that connection gets stronger every time we share intimate moments like that.”

“…Every intimate moment?”

“I don’t know if every intimate moment is going to feel…overwhelming like that, but…basically?” she answered. “Maybe it was overwhelming because we were bound not too long ago? I’m…I’m not sure, exactly.”

Hunter let the information sit in his mind as he studied the witch in front of him. He could see she felt a bit nervous but not uncomfortable. He had spent years with this girl, actual years, and had been falling for her every second of them but now? Nothing could compare to what he was feeling now, nothing could compare to what his soul was embracing right now.

“Wow,” he finally breathed, and let out a small laugh. “We’re married, Willow! I..I married you.”

“Yup,” she smiled at his dopey grin and started giggling herself.

“And this is you,” he jumped forward, cradling her face. He let strands of her uneven hair slip through his fingers. “I can help you trim the rest now, I’m not shaking anymore.”

Willow let him comb his fingers through her hair a few more times before doing anything in response. It was rare for his hands to feel so warm and she didn’t want him to let go. She turned her head slightly and Hunter released his hand that was resting on her cheek. Instinctively she slapped it back on but after startling him she turned her head again and kissed his palm.

When she looked up, she expected to see a flustered Hunter. Instead, he looked ready to cry.

“I just—“ he cracked into a whisper, and then leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers. “I love you, so much, Willow.”

Willow’s soul felt like it was on fire. Her heart and body ached for more of it but it had to wait. Did it have to wait?

“It has to wait,” she whispered through her teeth, blinking the second she realized she had spoken aloud.

“Your hair?”

“Yep!” she squeaked. “I mean—no, you can trim my hair, that’s fine.”

Hunter looked a little confused and slightly hurt, but he picked up his blade and started trimming the odd long strands.

“I love you, too, Hunter,” she said quietly, after he had cut the final strand and dropped it in with the rest of her loose hair. “A lot.”

They exchanged soft smiles and then looked down the tunnel they had once passed through.

Hunter closed the coffin and with his staff he sealed it shut. Willow cast a spell for the surrounding botanicals to take root above them and they closed the trap door.

Taking a deep breath, they both looked at one another and then back at the multitude of reflections ahead of them.

It was time to find out what promise lied on the other side.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 33 – The Hour Before

Willow felt restless and could not fall asleep. She didn’t want to chance waking Hunter—he looked peaceful. She sat up. The ground was slightly damp and crumbly and the mirrors that lined the walls had condensation building up on the surface. Since she had cast a few firefly lilies to grow around them, she was able to see her subtle reflection. She stared at herself and thought back to the memories they had unlocked only yesterday.

It was only their first night in the tunnel but—oh, their wedding night, Willow thought. It definitely felt like it was going to be a much longer journey than they bargained for.

She stood up, but was careful to not disturb the palismen, particularly Flapjack. She wasn’t going to go anywhere but what else was she going to do? She couldn’t fall asleep. Maybe she could learn a little more about her human father.

Glancing quickly at Hunter’s side she knew she wouldn’t be able to prick herself for another memory in the mirrors. His blade was in his bag which was still attached to his hip—she couldn’t risk waking him.

Did she really want to learn more? She wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to, given how little time she likely spent with her father before her mother decided to… Titan, she couldn’t even think about it.

She wanted to imagine though, how different her life might have been if her human father was a part of it. What would he think of her now? Would he be proud of who—of what—she had become?

She really was half a witch after all—but a witch, nonetheless. She wondered what part of her was human and what part of her was witch—aside from her magical abilities of course.

What would her human father think of his daughter being married to a grimwalker? Oh, Willow nearly spoke out loud and covered her mouth. What would her parents think?

It’s not that she was worried about Papa and Appa caring for Hunter—they already do—it’s just, well, the details. They don’t know the details. Would they need to know the details? Would they pester them about having kids? She flushed, embarrassed her mind went even further.

The truth was she wasn’t sure if they could have children. Neither was Hunter—and while she knew he wanted to give the world to her—he has always been doubtful about it. They hadn’t discussed the topic much, except during their hour before Chiarelle bound them in marriage. Oh that single hour! Willow smiled softly, catching a glance of Hunter again, who was drooling slightly.

--

(the hour before getting married)

The hour was quiet at first, the two of them looking at each other without knowing what to say. Willow could tell he was about to burst though so she finally had broken the silence by telling him to go on. He had breathed a sigh of relief but Willow remembered he looked hesitant. He was nervous. It made her nervous—but as soon as he started going down the list that was in his head she relaxed.

“There are just like, a lot of things we probably should go over but I have the top three in my head that are probably the most important, you know, just because we only have an hour—“

Willow had kissed him on the cheek.

“S-so the three things, um—“

“Moments ago I was more nervous than you—it’s okay, Hunter. I think it’s important we talk about this too. What are the three things?”

Willow already had in mind what they could possibly be but she wanted to hear it come from him.

“Well—one thing, the thing is—Titan, this shouldn’t be this hard,” he huffed, then took a deep breath. “I know you have always wanted to be a mother, Willow. And we’ve talked about how I would like it too, if I could be a father—it’s just—I-I don’t know. I don’t know if we can or if it can be—“

“Whatever the Titan wills it will be, okay?”

“W-what?”

Willow tilted her head and looked up at him.  “There’s always a chance we may not have kids—but we can try, right?”

Hunter coughed, but her sincerity calmed his nerves. “I-I—yes. You’re right.”

“Life has a funny way of working itself out. There’s not much we know about grimwalkers but I am happy to be there with you when we figure it out,” Willow said, and held onto his hands a bit tighter than before. “So what was the next top thing on your list?”

He flushed a deep, deep, crimson.

“Right,” Willow answered, unable to prevent a small smirk curl on her cheeks that were also rosier than usual. She scooted a few inches closer so she could lean into Hunter and swore she saw steam coming off of his face. “We can still wait, if you want. You know, when we both feel ready.”

Hunter nodded, the steam gradually dissipating.

“Plus, we’ve never even charted together—not that we would have—but you know, it helps to have some kind of baseline before we start having sex."

“Chart?”

Willow looked up to find a pair of curious and eager eyes staring back at her. She couldn’t help it—she started giggling. She was giggling for almost a whole minute before she could face him again to explain.

“I am sorry, it’s just your face—I don’t know what you learned in the Emperor’s Coven on this…or if you did at all… but it’s something every witch that has a uterus gets schooled in at Hexside at some point. I mean, all witches have to but it’s more relevant to us—“

Hunter’s face changed from eager to focused—he was ready to absorb any of the information she was about to share. Willow could tell the embarrassment of the topic was behind him which made it a little bit easier to continue.

“Anyway—my menstrual cycle, well all menstrual cycles,” she corrected herself, “have different windows that can vary from witch to witch—or even cycle to cycle, that’s why it’s important to chart.”

“What…kind of windows, exactly?”

“Windows of time, or, if you prefer it, of opportunity,” Willow replied, winking.

Hunter’s focused expression remained unchanged.

“Basically, there’s the ovulation part of the cycle and the other parts—there are windows of time where a witch can likely conceive and other windows of time where it is unlikely. The windows can be estimated by charting a witch’s body temperature, their, um,” she coughed, “their cervical mucus, and other stuff.”

Willow bit her lip, waiting to see if Hunter had any questions, and then looked past him. Their hour was starting to run out.

“What I’m trying to say is that there will be times where we could try and other times where we—“

“So what you’re saying is…” he interrupted, “is I’m going to need another notebook.”

--

Willow had to the stifle her laugh after recalling Hunter’s response. He was such a nerd. She could barely imagine him as the once-feared Golden Guard after that moment. She sat down again, watching her husband sleep—but now she was leaning against the mirrored wall behind her. Her restlessness was beginning to drift into drowsiness and eventually her eyelids drooped shut. In that small peaceful moment her worries melted and she allowed herself to dream.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-

(back to the hour before they got married)

“What was the third thing, Hunter?”

He bit his lip. They had already discussed it a few times before but he hated bringing it up. It wasn’t because he didn’t like the idea or dislike it—they were just the facts. Well, he had mixed feelings about it. It was entirely possible they would be stuck here for the rest of their lives, that they may never return to the Boiling Isles. Getting married or not wouldn’t change that but living in false hope…would that be healthy?

“I have to confess something to you—it’s important I say it before you—we—make this happen.”

Willow studied his concerned expression and waited for him to continue. He could barely look her in the eye.

“I know we need to go back to the Boiling Isles, a-and I’m all for continuing our search! I just—I need to tell you the truth that I—a part of me, a big part of me doesn’t want to go back.”

He flinched as he finished his last sentence which made Willow frown. Hunter had shut his eyes for the few seconds of silence, even after Willow had reached up to cradle his face.

“A small part of me doesn’t want to go back either,” she admitted softly, “For your sake.”

Hunter’s eyes jolted open at that.

“Fate hasn’t treated you or the Hunters before you too kindly on the Boiling Isles—a part of me is worried if we go back, Belos would make sure you suffer. I understand why a big part of you doesn’t want to return.”

“I’m worried that if we came upon a portal door that I wouldn’t be able to walk through it. That you’d leave me behind because I’m a coward.”

Willow’s hands changed from cradling to squeezing his face.

“You’re not a coward,” she affirmed, and then let go of his cheeks. “You’ve proven that countless times.”

“Still,” he said quietly, catching her hand. “The thought of going back scares the Titan’s breath out of me. It’s like the longer we’re gone the more it festers. I would be content if we just—“

“Stayed here? Forever?”

Hunter nodded guiltily and Willow sighed.

“We only have a few minutes but,” she started, “can you tell me what you’ve thought about if we stayed here? I hope you haven’t forgotten about our future chicken ranch.”

“But we only—“

“I know you doubt yourself Hunter—I doubt myself too,” she interrupted. “But I believe in you and I know you believe in me. That’s enough for me to trust you to do the right thing. Without you here with me I don’t think I’d have the same trust in myself as I do now. I hope my trust in you, in time, can strengthen the trust in yourself.”

Hunter blinked and Willow smiled. Leaving him dumbfounded was one of her specialties.

“We can dream of building a life here together if we want,” she added. “It doesn’t mean we can’t dream of building a life back home either. Going back home doesn’t mean giving up here, you know?”

He couldn’t help it, he kissed her. Perhaps a bitter end was imminently intertwined with the grimwalkers before him but he couldn’t say the same about himself. Not anymore. Not when he had Willow by his side.

“I think I’m ready,” Willow breathed, breaking her lips away. “Are you?”

He grinned and kissed her again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34 - Maybe Baby

(approximately one year later)

Waiting for the sunrise in a dense forest was a peculiar pastime. The trees were so tall that by the time the sun was above them, only flickers of light managed to scatter below… and by that time it’d already be close to mid-day.

Willow wasn’t looking up, though. She was resting on a high branch, gazing ahead. She could hear insects buzzing about and if she pressed her palm against the trunk of the tree she swore she could feel it breathing.

“Thank you,” she whispered, patting the branch.

This was a habit she and Hunter developed less than a year ago, when they decided to make this palistrom tree their home. It made them uneasy at first, especially Hunter, to build a home from something that might be more alive than they could imagine. They couldn’t chop one of the trees down, even if they wanted to (they were so large)!

In their deliberation, they had sat down at the foot of one of the trees. Hunter had held Willow’s hand, gently rubbing circles with his thumb in her palm.

“Thank you,” he had whispered. “Thank you, Chiarelle.”

In truth, he had no idea what else to say. He was grateful to the witch who guided them back to the palistrom part of the forest, but he still felt lost.

Willow smiled, feeling warmed by this memory. It may have been the cup of tea in her hand, but she’d like to think it was her thoughts.

Leaves rustled when a small breeze passed through and Willow caught a short glimpse of light peeking ahead. It was only a flash and then the forest returned to darkness.

“Good morning,” Hunter mumbled behind her, after he had opened the window.

Willow turned around to face her spouse, who was resting his face in his hands with his elbows on the windowsill.

“What are you smiling about?” she almost laughed, amused by his dopey grin.

“I’m not sure,” he answered, not changing his expression. “I just woke up with a good feeling. Something good is going to happen today.”

“Do you think we’ll manage to finish the chicken’s fence today?”

“I don’t think that’s it—but maybe,” he said, looking beyond where his wife was sitting. “Every time we make it taller they just keep proving they can jump higher—it’s getting kind of ridiculous.”

Another flash of warm light flickered through, reflecting on Willow’s cup of tea for half a second.

Hunter crawled out the window just as Willow had done less than an hour earlier and sat beside her. Willow’s head instinctively found his shoulder and she let out a small sigh. Both of their hearts felt warm with content. The day they had begun “construction” of their home, time managed to go by quickly, but somehow, at a slower pace. The days were fast but the hours were slow. It made time feel… different, from before.

Thankfully during the time they were carving out their home it remained peaceful for the most part. They rarely encountered any dangers, which was comforting to them, as they were not sure how long they would remain there. They might live here long enough to raise a family here, that is, if children were meant to be. They still were uncertain about that.

It’s not that they were trying, anyway. They agreed that it was probably better to avoid having children while they were building their home and just… figuring out marriage together.

Recently though, their agreement to avoid children had shifted. It didn’t shift to them trying to get pregnant—it was closer to something like “well, what if we did have children—that wouldn’t be so bad.” Tracking Willow’s cycle felt less strict, it felt more… open. She found her mind wandering more often and she noticed Hunter’s was too. She couldn’t read his mind of course, but she could feel it. Her soul could feel it. She smiled at that. Marriage was teaching them so much about one another, but their literal connection? She would laugh thinking about how she would explain it to Luz one day. Perhaps humans had something similar but… Luz, out of all of their friends, she thought, was the most likely to understand it.

Willow sipped the last bit of her tea and then kissed Hunter on the cheek. He flushed slightly, letting his mind wander to the many other places she had kissed just the other night. He returned the kiss, but to her ear, and she shivered.

Another small flicker of light scattered through the trees and their eyes met at a quick glance.

It was time to go back inside.

--

(later that day)

Hunter drew a small light glyph, slightly more complex than the simple one they had learned from Luz, and secured it to a makeshift lamp he had placed on his desk. He tapped it and it shined just a bit more brightly than Willow’s firefly lilies.

“Are you impressed?” he asked, turning his head. His wife was sitting on a cushion by a small window.

Willow’s smirk turned into a grin. She was impressed. Not by the single light glyph – but by the room he had built that resembled a study. Inside the walls shelved the journals he had been keeping and some of Willow’s unique plant finds. She helped him create his desk and chair with magic but she definitely didn’t do it by herself. They did a lot of it together, in fact – their whole home, which was still in a work in progress.

While the tree was wide, it wasn’t wide enough to include an entire living space on a single plane—not if they wanted to keep the tree alive and well, that is! With some guidance from Flapjack and Clover, they were able to carve unique spaces within the trunk of the tree that traveled upward. They made sure to keep the heart of the tree protected – they promised to not carve into the center. It was odd, communicating through their palismen with the tree, because the tree, well, all of the palistrom trees, were very much alive but… not in the same sense as most individual beings were alive. Witches and demons had their own souls, and so did palismen! Which meant grimwalkers had them as well—and the trees themselves? Their hearts produce the soul material; a single tree could contain hundreds of souls not yet individualized.

It was difficult for Willow and Hunter to wrap their heads around it but it was easy to respect the life of the tree that had allowed them to take refuge.

“I think we’ll be using more light glyphs like this in the future, especially as lanterns, don’t you think?”

Willow nodded, but Hunter sat back and frowned.

“What is it?”

“I said I had a good feeling about today—this just wasn’t it,” he sighed, but still smiling at his accomplishment.

A silence sat between them for a few minutes. This had become a common occurrence in their newfound married life. Even before, when they were traveling along the perimeter, they would go a few hours without speaking to each other but… the silences now were shorter but more often. At first, it felt a bit uneasy and gave them cause to worry. Gradually though, the quiet became comfortable, especially inside the tree. Sometimes, when it was especially quiet, Willow and Hunter swear they can hear the tree breathing.

--

A bit later in the day, Willow decided to try out a different climb route for her daily exercise routine. Not long after their return to the palistrom side of the forest, both she and Hunter decided to climb to the surface. They had done so only once because it was a journey. She hoped they would make it to the surface again at some point but for the time being they’d explore below.

While she climbed, her mind started to wander again, just as it was that morning.

“I told Hunter a long time ago I always wanted to be a mother,” she said out loud, to no one in particular, but she hoped Clover was at least half-paying attention. “Sometimes I wonder if I am allowed to…let myself want that anymore.

We both accepted there’s a possibility… a probability, that we may not be able to conceive. And maybe that would be for the best, considering our circumstances.”

She stopped for a moment, hanging onto a knot with one arm, and looked down. After a second, she pulled herself up to the branch that was maybe 200 feet or so above where they slept. Hunter was weeding the garden. She couldn’t see him but she could hear his whistling and she smiled.

“Can you imagine, Clover? Raising a family in a place like this?”

Her palisman buzzed softly, nestling into her hair.

“It is dark,” she agreed, “But I think you’re right.” She caught a fragment of a leaf that was fluttering down and traced a small light glyph. After tapping it she tossed it upward so it would light her path.

Willow started to climb again, and Clover followed.

--

Flapjack was chuckling to himself, watching Hunter get frustrated at the weeds.

“It’s harder than it looks, okay?” he retorted.

He did not understand how they could keep popping up—he’d even stuck his face in the dirt to make sure he removed all of the roots but for some reason this one particular plant insisted on thriving on their vegetable garden. It’d be one thing if they could live in harmony but this plant was a literal monster with teeth. Small teeth, but still.

“It’s probably an invasive species,” he mumbled to himself. “How could it be an invasive species, Hunter? This island is too remote—well how do you suppose we got here, my beloved wife?”

Flapjack shook his head at him and fluttered out of view.

“If you tell Willow I’m having my own conversations without her again I’m not giving you the extra carrots I pull up!”

His palisman made a quick return.

“At least the chickens enjoy eating the weed monsters,” he sighed, offering a small carrot to Flapjack. “I hope Willow doesn’t over-exert herself again. She’s been doing that more often recently. I know she’s worried about something but it’s hard to figure out what.

“It’s not that I can’t ask her—you know that. I just… I can tell she’s not sure herself, yet.”

It’s true his own soul often bore the weight of her soul’s concerns and longings, she as she could feel his own. They had become more accustomed to it now and while worries felt cold and heavy but hope felt warm and light. There was constant fluctuation between them and in the beginning it was overwhelming—but now it was ordinary.

Flapjack let out a small chirp, pecking gently at Hunter’s hand.

“I’m still not sure… but I’ll know it when I see it. My good feeling hasn’t gone away just yet.”

His palismen nodded, but his face paled when he saw Hunter’s sudden drop in expression.

“Willow—she—something happened!”

--

“I’m not overdoing it, Clover—I learned my lesson last time, okay?”

Clover shook their head circling above her. Willow had been climbing for a couple of hours now without too many breaks in between. This would happen when there was a lot on her mind but to Willow it felt good. Necessary, even—it was important to do something productive while she was thinking.

Her mind had wandered farther from motherhood and into her past. She was thinking about her father. She missed her parents, yes, but she was thinking about her biological father—who was human. She imagined if some of her classmates found out she would never hear the end of “half-a-witch” Willow. Not that it would matter, she was too old to attend Hexside. Gus would be thrilled, she guessed. Luz, too. Amity would probably feel even more guilty, but maybe confused as well? After all, Willow really proven herself after she switched to the plant track. She was—she is—a powerful witch.

But what made her own mother fall in love with a human in the first place? Was it love at all? Was she conceived… out of something…other than love? That made her feel sick to her stomach.

Actually, she felt dizzy.

Clover caught the puzzled but nauseous look on her face and immediately dove below her, transforming into her staff. Willow’s grip on the branch slipped and everything was blurry all of a sudden.

--

Flapjack pecked at Hunter’s shoulder after he noticed Willow’s eyes flutter open.

He immediately dropped to her eye level and grasped her hands. They were calloused from climbing so often but so were his. Clover placed her glasses back on her face, and gently nudged them to fit.

Hunter’s face was pale, and she could feel his heart beating out of fear… but there was relief, too.

“You passed out while climbing,” he said, watching her hands fold around his, which were shaking.

“That’s definitely new,” she deadpanned, trying to lighten the atmosphere. She was trying to remember how she blacked out but her mind was blank. She hated making him worry like that—she didn’t think she was going to overdo it this time, really.

“Do you… do you think something’s wrong?” he asked, watching her expression change. “I mean—I know you’re worried about something. I don’t know what it is or even if you know—but I can feel it. Do you think maybe that might’ve… I-I don’t know, had an effect?”

Willow sat up. There had been a lot on her mind lately—it never made her dizzy like that, though—especially not when climbing.

“I don’t think it was related to that,” she replied, kissing him gently on the forehead. “But you’re right, I am worried. About a lot of things.”

“Did you want to talk about it?” Please, I want you to talk about it.

 “I’m sorry,” she sighed, knowing Hunter would be disappointed in her answer. “I think…I just need to lay down for a little bit.”

Her husband responded by handing her an extra pillow.

“I’m sorry,” she winced, feeling nauseous again.

“I know,” he answered, and kissed her cheek. “We can talk when you feel up to it. I’ll start on dinner but let me know if the smell makes you feel sick—Clover said you looked like you were going to throw up.”

Willow blinked, recalling the memory all of a sudden. Clover had been able to prevent her from falling too fast but it was Hunter who had caught her. Why did she feel so embarrassed by that? Is that why she felt so sick? Scratch that, feels so sick. Was she ill?

Flapjack hopped up to where she was resting and chirped very softly into her ear a question that simply had not crossed her mind. Not until now, anyway.

Her entire body felt as though it was sinking and flying all at once.

Was she—could she be pregnant?

“Flapjack,” she whispered, “how could you know?”

His answer was quiet but it felt as though he deafened the room. It was quiet enough to hear the tree breathe. It was quiet enough to hear the tree think.

There was something about a living being that was made of soul matter and life that could recognize the same. Willow was carrying another soul within her and the tree could feel it. Flapjack could feel it, even Clover could—and when Hunter said he had a good feeling about today—Titan. This was too much to take in.

Willow stood up and placed her palms against the wall, the inner trunk of the tree. She slowly removed one hand and placed it on her belly. She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. Would have this been possible if they had lived anywhere else?

Her hand on the wall pressed more deeply, fingers curling until she was gripping through the grain. Clover buzzed around her nervously.

How do you know? she cried in her mind, eyes beginning to glow. Hunter had a feeling, but she was a powerful plant witch! How could he know before she did?

Her eyes welled up. Why was she even upset? He didn’t know.

He doesn’t know!

Willow’s grip tightened but she quickly released it. “Thank you,” she said under her breath, touching her forehead to where her hand had taken root. Thank  you.

She turned around and caught Clover in her arms, gently stroking them. Flapjack had left the room.

“How am I supposed to tell him?” she asked in a broken laugh. “I don’t even know if it’s true.”

“If what’s true?”

Willow blinked.

Hunter was standing by the doorway, with Flapjack on his shoulder.

“Flapjack didn’t say anything, if you’re worried,” he assured her, entering the room. “It did seem urgent, though.”

Willow’s lip trembled as he stepped closer, reaching for her cheek. He wiped away the tears that dripped past her jaw. She could tell his heart was beating fast but hers was beating faster. She forced a smile but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

“You’re going to,” she said between breaths, “maybe sit down for this.”

His nervous smile turned into a frown of concern but he obliged her request. She sat down next to him and let Clover join Flapjack, who decided to stay at the doorway.

“Can you,” she asked, once her breathing was back to normal, “tell me more about your good feeling today?”

Hunter stared at her blankly.

“Just indulge me for a moment, okay?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I’m not sure if I can explain it. It’s just an inkling, you know? I could be wrong about it—“

“You weren’t.”

Hunter blinked.

“What… do you mean by that, exactly?”

She smiled softly and took his hands into hers. Slowly, she moved his hands to be on her belly and she held them there.  

Willow couldn’t look up to meet his gaze but she was still smiling. It would just take a minute, wouldn’t it?

Hunter’s eyes widened.

“Willow..?”

She started laughing again. Crying. Laughing and crying. She couldn’t just sit there anymore, she let go of his hands and grabbed his face, knocking his forehead into hers.

“Our family—we’re having a—I-I’m pregnant,” she stuttered. It felt even more unreal to say it out loud.

Hunter, still in a bit of a daze, wrapped his arms around her. He started laughing too. Crying and laughing. This was real. He was real. They were having baby—they were going to raise a family! He didn’t even bother asking how she knew—it didn’t matter. They were going to be parents—they were going to be parents.

That’s when the panic set in. He was going to be a father? He wanted to be, of course, but—were they ready? Was he ready—

Willow interrupted his thoughts by kissing him firmly on the mouth.

“You know what I’ve been worried about?” she whispered, less than an inch from his face.

He nodded, and kissed her back softly.

“I know we’ll figure it out together but can you promise me something? Like you used to?”

Hunter caressed her cheek again in response because he knew what she was going to ask.

“Willow,” he said, “You are not your mother. I am not--I am not Belos. Or even Caleb! We are not going to make their mistakes--I promise.”

Her expression relaxed and all of a sudden she felt exhausted. It had been a long day.

“Thank you,” she whispered again. Thank you.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 35 – Family Camping Trip

(approximately 12ish years later)

Chiara huffed, blowing her hair out of her face. Hawkthorne, her palisman on her shoulder, shook his head. They were facing Eliza and Elowyn, her younger twin sisters, neither of them who could stop blabbering about whom was to blame for what happened.

“It’s not my fault Zilch got upset—“

“Well, maybe if you’d stop calling him that and actually call him Bazilicus—“

“Finch already told us he prefers ‘Baz’ but we all know that just sounds ridiculous—“

“It’s not our faults Mom and Dad named him that—“

“That’s enough,” Chiara shouted, silencing her sisters. It was bad enough they made their little brother run off, but they just never shut up!

Eliza and Elowyn stopped bickering and sat down, both giving their eldest sibling a sheepish look. It took all of Chiara’s strength to not roll her eyes. Her sisters’ palismen nestled into their laps, avoiding Hawkthorne’s disappointed gaze.

After a few seconds though, she sat down with them and sighed. She reached out to take a hand of each of them and squeezed.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured them. “We are going to find him—before Mom and Dad get here.”

They nodded, sharing a determined look.

--

Chiara was a little surprised her parents allowed them to fly ahead. They were going on a camping trip by the shore – a trip they have made a few times before, but they had never travelled separately—until today. They weren’t too far behind them—but her parents were also traveling with her youngest brother, Cale. He was just a baby, after all, and Mom wanted to collect a few things along the way.

It wasn’t a difficult trip—all they needed to do was fly along the river. It wasn’t bright (as usual) but it was still day and the closer they got there the more daylight shone through. Their parents would get there by the evening so they had about half a day.

They had half a day to find Baz.

She swallowed.

She didn’t want to show it because she didn’t want to frighten her sisters but she was worried. Baz wasn’t exactly… brave. He didn’t have great instinct when it came to the wilderness and honestly? Chiara felt like her parents babied him way too much. He had Finch, his palisman, with him but still.

They teased him, maybe a little bit too much—especially Eliza. They never meant to be mean, she knew, but they definitely went too far this time. They could all play together and they did have fun together, really!

Chiara was the oldest, though. She had to take the responsibility.

--

“We’re faster than all of them—we showed them!” Baz cried, hugging his scraped knees, burrowing himself in the sand. “Eliza is just being a butt and she knows it.”

Finch, the tiny palisman, cuddled up underneath his arm.

“I know I’m not as good at magic as them, but I’m barely six years old! Sometimes—“ he sniffed, “sometimes I just want them to let me play their games too.”

His palisman cheeped, and Baz adjusted the way he was sitting so Finch could rest in his lap.

“Dad always says not to listen to them but he doesn’t understand—Mom and dad could never understand, not really.”

Finch cheeped again, in disagreement.

“They never had a brother—or a sister, let alone three. And it’s just us, you know? We’re all alone here,” his voice cracked, staring at the bright horizon ahead of him. “They had friends—they’ve told us lots of stories, well, I want friends too!” he cried, and covered his face, wiping some of the tears away. “I want my own friends!”

Finch cooed softly, trying to comfort him.

--

Willow jolted up, catching her husband’s stern gaze. Baby Cale was fast asleep against his chest.

“Did you hear something?” she asked, changing her glance to the running river.

Clover and Flapjack each shared a worried glance.

“It doesn’t hurt to catch up to them—we can always forage later.”

Willow nodded and tossed the mushrooms she had already gathered into her bag.

Hunter bit his lip. Something felt off, but he couldn’t tell what it was. It was more than just their children he was worried about—something about the island, this place—felt off.

-- 

Family Camping Trip, Part II

“Baz, I’m sorry, okay?” Eliza moaned, exhausted from wandering around the edge of the forest. “You’re good at magic too—your kind of magic!”

“You’re not making it better,” Elowyn muttered, glaring at her sister.

“Well, it’s true,” Eliza retorted, crossing her arms. “And why aren’t you saying you’re sorry too? We were both—“

“I’ll say sorry when we find him,” she cut in, and then promptly sat down with a sigh. It was true, that Baz was good at his own kind of magic—which was unlike the magic they were capable of. She and Eliza both have been able to do more advanced magic at an early age—which definitely took their parents by surprise.

Chiara was talented with her magic and use of glyphs but she was cautious. Her sisters, on the other hand, feared nothing. They loved to play games based on flyer derby and other games, usually ones Chiara would come up with. Their parents would often join in on the fun but Chiara preferred to sit back on the sidelines. She liked coming up with the rules of each game and different strategies that could be applied but if she didn’t play it usually meant she was going to spend time with her little brother, Baz.

Baz had only just gotten the hang of flying and he wasn’t exactly old enough to participate in the games Eliza and Elowyn liked to play. Sometimes he would try to participate but it would quickly get too rough for him or Eliza and Elowyn would get frustrated at his inability to keep up.

On their way for the camping trip they had begun teasing him because he wasn’t able to do the simple light spells that they were doing. He was upset, naturally, because he knew how to do the light spell and had done it many times before! It’s just… he couldn’t do it while flying at the same time. It made him feel like he was still just a baby.

Chiara told herself she’d remind him that he was able to speak to his palisman before Finch was even carved. That made him very special—she was sure of it. Dad was definitely impressed but Mom? She had never seen that before. If that was unusual here and now, it must be even more unusual on the “Boiling Isles.” They might have teased him a little bit for talking to the trees but it was a gift that neither she nor her sisters had.

She would remind him.

She would remind him if they could actually find him. It was getting close to the evening which was making her nervous. Mom and dad were bound to catch up to them any minute now and they still haven’t found their brother.

--

“What is it that doesn’t feel right?” Willow asked, noticing Hunter’s concerned but puzzled expression.

He looked down at Cale, who was still sleeping against his chest, swaddled under his shirt. He was so small. It still blew his mind at how small people start out—it’s not like he even had the personal experience either. He was grateful to give Chiara, Eliza, Elowyn, Baz, and Cale… a childhood. A childhood!

“Do you think we shouldn’t have let them go on ahead?” Willow asked again, interrupting his thoughts.

“Are you worried about Baz?”

“A little,” she said softly.

“Even if the twins speed ahead, Chiara is there with him. We’ll catch up to them soon.”

Willow nodded, but her concern did not diminish. They allowed them to play on their own, so long as they were close by, all of the time! Even though they have made this trip many times before, this was the first time Baz was flying on his own. Maybe he should have stayed behind with them.

“We wouldn’t have been able to stop him,” Hunter said out loud, as if reading her thoughts. “Baz has been pretty determined lately about catching up to ’Liza and Elowyn.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” she replied.

Hunter felt a bead of sweat drip down his forehead.

She was right to worry.

Titan.

They should probably hurry up.

--

“Mom is going to kill us,” Eliza whined, falling dramatically to the ground.

“No,” Elowyn said, “she’s going to kill you. You’re the one who taught him the invisibility glyph and told him he should just disappear!”

“That was weeks ago, obviously I didn’t mean it for real!”

“I’m sorry,” Chiara interrupted, “you did what.”

Eliza gulped.

“H-he was talking to the tree that’s neighbors with Home a-and I just—“

“All she really meant was if he was going to talk to the trees then he could pretend to be a tree, she didn’t actually want him to disappear—“

“And he even said h-he’d rather be friends with a tree than us—that’s why I said it—I didn’t mean—“ Eliza cried, breaking into sobs.

“She really didn’t mean it,” Elowyn said quietly, taking her Eliza’s hand in hers. Their palismen fluttered about them, trying to wipe away their tears.

Chiara stared at her sisters. They were both puffy-eyed and clearly, very sorry. She sighed, trying to control the frog that was developing in her own throat.

Hawkthorne, however, was perched on her head looking in the opposite direction. He had a pretty good eye for spotting them from long distances but still, there was no Baz in sight.

--

(one month earlier)

“How come Elowyn gets to stay with Mom and everybody else?” Eliza grumbled, crossing her arms.

Hunter looked down at his daughter, sharing a tired smile. He never felt so old and so young all at once as much as he did when he was spending time with Eliza.

“Because,” he answered, letting her palisman, Brahm, hop into his hand. “It’s because you’re the best at helping me collecting eggs—sure, you and Elowyn make a good team but your Mom…” Hunter trailed off, not knowing exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say. Elowyn had a special talent at keeping the house calm in chaos—at helping Willow take a nap when she needs it. It honestly felt too easy, separating Elowyn from Eliza. When they were together, they were as thick as thieves. However, when Eliza was removed from the equation there was always less chance at conflicts arising. Eliza was quick-tempered and it would never be long until she upset Baz in some way.

“Chiara used to help distract the chickens—why couldn’t she come instead?”

Hunter sighed, and then stopped walking so he could meet her at eye level.

“Everyone has to take turns at helping out—that’s how it works,” he answered again, and then Brahm fluttered back to her shoulder.

“When is Cale going to get a palisman?” she asked, feeling Brahm tickle her ear. She laughed, and Hunter breathed in relief at the change of her mood. He loved her spunk, he really did—today was just a long day.

“I’m not sure, but probably not any time soon; he is a little small for one right now.”

“Can I help?”

“Maybe—that will depend on Cale, I think,” he replied. Flapjack chirped and the fluttered down to perch on Eliza’s other shoulder. She giggled.

“Why can’t we have two palismen?” she asked, laughing as she felt both of them tickling her ears. “Couldn’t we make more friends? Baz thinks we could—he talks to them all of the time.”

Hunter had thought of that—but he and Willow both decided it might be too big of a responsibility to take on. He also wasn’t sure if palisman magic could work that way—maybe if there were other witches or demons around to adopt them, but… they were alone here, even if Baz had a special connection to the palistrom trees, it’s not something he completely understood. To be honest, he was almost jealous. A small part of him wanted to believe Baz was just playing pretend but after living in a place that was is heavy with wild magic he knew it was real.

If it weren’t for these trees, after all, they may not have been able to have children in the first place. Why didn’t all of his children have this connection?

Why didn’t he have this connection?

He sighed.

It was useless to contemplate the ‘what ifs’.

--

(return to present)

Finch nudged Baz, who had gotten quiet from watching his sisters arguing and crying about him. He wanted to laugh but he felt as though it would be in poor taste. They were looking for him, after all but it’s not his fault they can’t see him hidden in plain sight. Eliza may have taught him the invisibility glyph but Neighbor taught him a trick that was even better.

Neighbor is what he called the tree that was next to Home. There were many trees that surrounded Home of course, but Neighbor was his friend.

He asked Neighbor if they had a name they’d like to go by but the life of a palistrom was… complicated. Finch came from Neighbor, after all.

If his sisters just listened, they would probably be able to hear Neighbor just as well as he could. Mom and Dad talked to Home all of the time so why did ‘Liza think it was weird to talk to Neighbor?

He breathed out a small but broken sigh. He felt weird for missing Neighbor… and for wishing he had friends besides them and his sisters. Even with Finch cuddling in his arms he felt alone.

Maybe he should break the camouflage spell.

--

“Chiara?” Willow called out, as they reached the edge of the forest. The sun hadn’t set yet but it was getting close. Maybe in an hour or two.

Hunter felt Cale began to wiggle a bit—he had woken up about an hour ago but it wouldn’t be long until he’d be hungry.

The second after Chiara heard her name she shouted in a whisper, “Baz, you better come out from wherever you are—please—“

“What’s wrong?” Hunter asked, noticing Eliza and Elowyn’s guilty but worried expressions.

Chiara turned around to face her father, her face completely flushed and her eyes welling with tears.

“W-what’s wrong? Hunter asked again, his voice breaking.

She stood there, unable to look up. Hawkthorne was still perched on her head, trying to be brave for her.

Why did she feel embarrassed—this wasn’t her fault, this wasn’t her fault—

“Hey,” her dad said softly, and wrapped an arm around her, the other still holding Cale. “It’s going to be okay—what happened?”

Sometimes she hated her parents for being so understanding. She could tell he was worried—she could hear it in his voice—she could even feel how fast his heart was beating—but why wasn’t he mad? He didn’t ask where Baz was but she knew that he didn’t even have to—of course Baz went missing—

“Baz—“ she almost spat, barely able to speak.

“Baz is over here!” Willow called out, turning everyone’s heads.

Chiara heaved a sigh of relief.

“Come look, Finch even helped him build a sandcast—“

The sandcastle disappeared.

Hunter saw it—he saw them, he was sure of it—but they just vanished!

“Willow?”

“Mom?” Elowyn cried, and Eliza started running toward she had disappeared. “Mom!”

“Liza, wait—“ their father shouted, but it was too late. The twins had disappeared too.

Chiara’s flushed face turned white.

“It’s…it’s like they just sunk into the sand!”

Hunter froze, still holding onto the children he had left. It was just about dusk… but they had never encountered time pools here before. Was it…

No.

No.

It couldn’t be the portal—that was impossible—they fell through inside the forest, not—

“Dad!” Chiara stammered, breaking away from his arm. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion.

His expression shifted.

“Let’s go.”

“But Dad—“

“No buts, we may not have a lot time—let’s go get Mom and your siblings, c’mon!”

He gave her a firm push and their palismen followed them. Their steps were shaky at first but as soon as their feet hit the sand they began to run.

As soon as they reached the sandcastle, which now looking like was invading a big patch of red grass, they collided into their missing family.

Chiara caught sight of Eliza throwing up and Elowyn was lying down also looking a bit queasy. Baz had his arms wrapped around Mom’s leg. The palismen were fluttering about, chirping and buzzing around in confusion. The color returned to Chiara’s face, relieved to see Baz okay, but when she turned around—

“Will—Willow?” her father stuttered, his hands starting to shake. Chiara jumped over Elowyn and took Cale into her arms.

“What’s wrong with Dad?” asked Baz, hugging Willow tighter.

Chiara eyed her parents’ gaze at one another. She had never seen her father shake so badly before.

Flapjack was chirping frantically at Clover.

“Can we… go back?” Hunter said out loud, looking to his wife. Willow shook her head.

“I’ve already tried—I didn’t even know if you’d come through,” she said, trying her best to hold it in.

Chiara felt her heart sink into her chest. The thought of being separated---wait—but where were they anyway? She looked around, past her siblings, behind her parents. She could actually see beyond the trees that were there.

The trees were not even tall!

How was that even possible?

Willow walked up to her and offered to take Cale. Chiara let her, and then sat down, thoughts swirling in her head. Her mother sat down beside her and Baz followed.

“This isn’t where we usually go camping,” Baz said, still absorbing his surroundings.

“That’s true,” Willow replied, kissing the top of Cale’s head. “It’s not.”

They were quiet for a moment, and watched Elowyn and Eliza crawl over to sit by their dad.

“Are we still camping?” Eliza asked, about to lean against Hunter but then noticed he was still trembling. She looked her mom for guidance—she had never seen Dad so scared before.

Willow squeezed Chiara’s hand, motioning Eliza to do the same. Elowyn noticed first so she placed one of her hands under Hunter’s and then her other hand on top of it.

“Sandwitch,” she said, looking up at him.

Startled, he looked down and watched Eliza do the same.

“Hand sandwich!” she shouted, raising his hand up, and waved it around.

Willow wanted to laugh but if she did she would break down in tears.

“We’re back, Chiara,” she broke, looking down a Baz. He looked nervous.

“We’re back on the Boiling Isles.”

--

- 

- 

-

-

-

OKAY so it doesn't go into it much and I will probably have flashback chapters but these are the children and their palismen:

Names:

Oldest: Chiara (in honor of Chiarelle). She is the wisest (and the brightest) of the siblings. She is about 12 years old. Her palisman’s name is Hawkthorne. Hawkthorne is a falcon with spikes. 

Second oldest (twins): Eliza and Elowyn (they are the most mischievous of the bunch). They are about 9 years old. Their palismen are Merlin and Brahm. Brahm is an owl-moth and Merlin is barn-owl with beard. Of course.

Fourth child:  Bazilicus. (Baz for short). He is about six years old. His palisman is Finch. Finch is a small birb. I wanted a name that reminded them of Gus’ name but it wasn’t Gus, you know? And also, this name is perhaps Willow’s imagined memory of her birth father’s name, idk. I'm sure I'll go into the history later. Maybe.

Baby (fifth): Cale. No palisman yet. Maybe? He is less than a year old.

--

(edit: uh, so I added the part II to this chapter instead of making it into another chapter, it just felt better that way)

Chapter Text

Chapter 36 – It’s Scary Being Scared

The Boiling Isles – Present Time

It started to rain.

Boiling rain wasn’t foreign to Chiara – they would sometimes encounter it by the edges of the island – but now that they were trapped in a place that felt unfamiliar, it stung so much more.

It was the first time Eliza had nothing to say. She and the rest of them were waiting for their parents to say something. Anything.

Did they even have a plan?

--

Hunter had grown comfortable in fatherhood. At first, it was terrifying—and it was still a little scary, yes—but he felt settled in this life. After twelve years, he had grown into his identity as a husband, as a dad. Titan, he even felt proud. Proud of himself!

There would be the occasional day when he’d think about what he’d say to Belos if he could, to show him what he had become without him. Sometimes he’d think about what Belos would say in return.

Most days though? It was completely put out of his mind. Life was easier that way.

It was safer.

But now… what now?

Cale had nestled into the crook of his arm after having fallen asleep. They had taken cover under the trunk of a tree that had fallen down and Willow used her magic to shelter them with large-enough leaves.

Hunter swallowed.

It pained him to see his children look to him for answers when he had none. It pained him they knew there was something more to the Boiling Isles than just being the place from whence they came.

He had a panic attack right in front of them.

Fathers don’t have—well, what would he know?

He knew how scary it was to witness their dad tremble from fear. He knew how scary it would be to watch him fall apart—back when he was the Golden Guard, he was the only one who knew that there was a curse cast on Belos. Watching him suffer was…Titan, he wanted to throw up. It felt wrong to feel this pitiful. Belos wasn’t his father—or even his uncle, he was both nothing and everything. He was angry at himself for not just feeling afraid of Belos, but of his relation to Belos. How could he ever begin to explain what it is? What it was?

--

Willow glanced up from Baz to look at her husband. Her heart weighed against her for thinking there was a possibility he wouldn’t follow them through the portal.

She didn’t know about it – when she and Baz fell through it was a complete accident.

It was an accident, but for some reason, through the disorientation of it all, she had wondered would he leave her behind?

It was a completely, utterly stupid thought. Hunter would follow her to the ends of any realm—but there was still a split feeling she held. It was buried, locked in a box inside her brain—but it was still there. The smidge of paradoxical hope was there and it was starting leak into her bones.

She hoped they would eventually be able to return to rescue her parents – to kick Belos’ ass.

But she also hoped Hunter would never have to return to face Belos at all.

Titan, her bones ached.

Hunter broke out of his melancholy trance and looked over, meeting his wife’s eyes.

“When the rain lets up,” he started, with his voice just loud enough to hear over the rain, “we should find Gus first.”

Chiara’s ears perked up, along with the others’. Willow nodded, not sure of what to say next.

It’s been over a decade—they would have no way knowing on where they would be. Would Luz even still be here? Would… would their friends still be alive?

“What about Belos?”

Hunter’s body tightened at his oldest daughter’s words and her siblings looked at her in question. Chiara looked up at her parents but then down at her hands, fiddling with them. Her palisman nudged her cheek.

(flashback from one month earlier)

Elowyn was watching over Cale as he slept—although Chiara had asked her to help her brother pick out some vegetables from the garden… he seemed happy to take care of it himself.

Mom was taking a nap.

There was not a chaotic moment in sight.

“You know what that means, Hawk?” she asked her palisman, who did not respond. “That’s right—it’s time to snoop.” Hawkthorne jittered excitedly—he liked feeling sneaky.

Chiara sometimes abhorred the idea that she enjoyed reading. Why?

The only thing to read were items written either by her father or her mother—mostly her father though. She’s studied many of his journals though, as most of them were notes about the island and its botany. A good chunk of them were on glyphs and other forms of wild magic he had discovered—but some? Some of the pages, here and there, were personal.

She vowed early on if they got too weird she would put an end to this immoral hobby but how could she help it? She was bored out of her mind half the time. She would take notes herself in her own journal about what she would find. So far, these were some of her favorite things:

-Short but sweet scribbled poems (or at least, that’s what she assumed they were) about their family (especially mom)

-Notes on her sleeping patterns when she was a baby (that was almost an entire journal by itself)

-Poorly drawn sketches of inside their home, but also doodles of the friends of her parents she has never met (Dad explained those sketches to her)

To her, snooping through her father’s journals felt like a treasure hunt. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for but she knew there was something to be found. They would talk a lot about “The Boiling Isles” and their past life… but she felt they also left a significant amount out and she wasn’t sure why.

“You know you could just ask Dad if you wanted to know something.”

“Elowyn!” she hissed, almost snapping the journal shut.

Her sister shrugged, and then walked away.

It was true, she could just ask—if she knew what to ask, that is. That was the problem!

Ignoring her sister, she returned the book to where she had found it. She stood on her tippy-toes, scouring the top shelf, which was dustier than the rest, and pulled one down that looked like it had blood-stains on it.

Maybe she should ask instead of snooping.

--

Willow was resting but she couldn’t sleep. She felt guilty for sending Eliza off with Hunter to rally up the chickens. She needed a break, but she didn’t want Eliza to feel like she was a problem…or the problem.

Clover buzzed softly on her chest, nuzzling her cheek.

She smiled. Willow couldn’t help it, if she was being honest. They were leading a quiet life here in the middle of the woods… Appa and Papa would be very proud of her. She had a beautiful family—an amazing family. They were growing up fast, too.

She could hear Chiara rummaging through the bookshelf. Sooner or later she and Hunter would have to talk to her.

Her daughter wasn’t going to get into any trouble—well, maybe a little. There were things they hadn’t discussed as a family yet and she was getting old enough to understand. They knew they were lost—that this forest…this place, was their home—but it was also not their home. Hunter and Willow didn’t want to mention exactly how they got here in fear that one of their children might go looking for a portal of some kind and then never come back.

Willow bit her lip.

The door to the bedroom creaked open.

“Mom?” Chiara’s voice broke, holding up a sheet of torn paper. “What… is this?”

Her mother’s face fell.

“Why did Dad write all these questions for ‘Belos’?” she asked, voice crumpling. “There’s a lot of them I don’t understand.”

Willow motioned her daughter to sit next to her and then she squeezed her tightly, taking a closer look at the page. This was an old page, that much was obvious—but even Willow was surprised by what was written down.

(return to present)

Hunter watched Chiara pulled the journal from her bag that contained the torn page she had shown her mother a month earlier. She taped it back in its place but held onto it instead of returning it to the shelf where she had found it.

“I showed Mom a while ago and I promised her I’d talk to you about it but I just didn’t—“

“It’s okay, Chiara,” Hunter said, stopping her. She wasn’t going to apologize, but even if she was he didn’t want to give her the chance. “Mom already told me—I should have just come to you instead of waiting. It is I, who is the coward here—not you.”

She hugged the journal more tightly.

“Will we be okay?” her voice cracked. She wanted to be brave, she felt compelled to be strong—she was the oldest after all—but how could she be, if her own parents were crumbling before them? She felt guilty for bringing up her concern because now her siblings eyes grew wider with worry instead of mere curiosity.

“Yes,” Willow said with a quiet confidence. “It’s okay to be scared—we’re scared too,” she said as her voice steadied.

Hunter bit his lip, but nodded.

“Why are you scared?” Eliza asked, huddling closer to her mother.

Elowyn leaned against her father.

“We’re not sure exactly how much time has passed, it may be almost twenty years since we’ve been here,” Willow answered, kissing the top of Eliza’s head. “There is a lot we don’t know right now and the less we know the scarier it feels.”

“That’s why when the rain stops,” Hunter chimed in, “we’re going to find our friend, Gus. If it’s one thing we know, it’s that he would be able to tell us the things we don’t know.”

A small smile crept on Willow’s face, watching her husband’s bravery grow. Her hand crawled to rest on top of his.

“A-and I’m sorry,” he added, meeting each of his children’s eyes. “I know how it must have felt to watch your dad…” he trailed off, not sure how to phrase what he was trying to say.

“I forgive you,” Elowyn said, without looking up. She held a gentle smile, and started drawing in the dirt.

Hunter looked down at her curiously, as well as her siblings.

“It’s scary being scared,” she shrugged, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not brave either. It’s not like you ran away.”

Hunter’s smile faltered slightly, feeling his heart sink.

It may have been a long time ago, but he did run away.

His wife squeezed his hand, knowing exactly what was going through his head.

“We’re going to find Gus,” she reiterated. “And when we do, we’ll talk more about Belos. About everything.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and shifted their gazes to the rain that was still pouring.

This was not the family camping trip they had planned for.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37 – Labyrinth Runners (Part I)

The Boiling Isles – Present Time

Gus woke up, rubbing his eyes. He did manage to sleep… kind of. It was only last night ago he and Luz managed to escape the Emperor’s mind—there was still so much he didn’t quite understand.

It was only a couple weeks ago Willow went missing—and for a while, he blamed Hunter. He had been suspicious of him from the start—but after seeing a few things from Belos’ history… he couldn’t stop feeling so nauseous.

He looked at Luz, who was lying on the floor next to the couch. Her eyes were open but they didn’t seem to be in focus.

“Do you think we should go to Hexside as usual?”

Gus blinked.

“I… I don’t know, honestly. Belos is bound to send the Emperor’s Coven after us—it probably isn’t safe.”

“Wouldn’t he first try to find us here, in the Owl House?” Luz asked, again in dull tone.

“That’s true, too.”

He didn’t know what else to say.

“Honestly, your safest bet is Hexside—but not in the classrooms,” Eda said, walking into the living area. “You remember your friends in the detention track and the secret room of shortcuts?”

Luz sat up and looked at Gus.

“That’s…that’s convenient!” she exclaimed, but then hunched over. “Is it…too convenient?”

“Not if Lilith and I stick it out here to lead whoever they send after you in the opposite direction!” Eda smirked, crossing her arms after setting down her mug of appleblood.

“We’ll find Amity, too,” Gus said, agreeing with the plan. “Before they do.”

Luz nodded firmly and then stood up.

“Let’s go.”

--

Chiara sat up, looking over at her parents who were still asleep. They were lying close to each other, with just their pinkies interlocking.

It was sweet.

The rest of her siblings were sprawled out around them. Eliza was snoring.

Chirp.

“Oh,” she noticed Flapjack, and he perched himself onto her hand. “What are you doing up so early?”

Flapjack stared at her, and then Hawkthorne who was perched on her shoulder. It was as if he was waiting for answer from his fellow palisman but Hawkthorne shook his head.

Chiara sighed.

Sometimes she hated that her parents’ palismen acted like babysitters—she was obviously old enough to look after herself. After closing her father’s journal that she had open in her lap, she raised Flapjack high enough to her eye level.

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Flapjack blinked, and then fluttered onto the closed book.

So that’s how it was going to be, huh? She sighed again. They had been walking for the entirety of yesterday, and only just made it to the edge of the forest. Her father was confident that flying was a bad idea because they weren’t certain of the current laws in place—but she knew the real reason was he was afraid of being recognized.

She had a hard time falling asleep, so walking a few trees away, she cast a few light spells and read more from her father’s journal. Besides what he had written about Belos (which wasn’t a lot), he had also drawn several maps, and what looked like plans of attack or assassination. There were a few of what she assumed was the castle her father used to live in, a couple of different areas of Bonesborough, and one of Hexside, the school her mother attended.

She appreciated that Dad let Mom add her own notes, since she had a better memory of it than he did. Tracing her mother’s handwriting with her fingertips, she followed it to the next page, which looked like a sketch she had done of the outside of the school. That was her guess, at least. She knew there was only so much she could draw from memory.

She walked back to where her family was sleeping to try to get some rest, but dawn was already breaking. When she opened the journal again, that’s when Flapjack noticed.

“I’ll leave a note,” she whispered, scribbling on a page that she tore out. “I know I can find Hexside with this, the school probably keeps some kind of records, right?”

Hawkthorne nodded excitedly, eager to explore the unknown with her, but Flapjack narrowed his gaze.

“Okay, so I overheard Mom and Dad talking about it—it was their plan in the first place—if they’re already going to go there, what’s the harm in getting there just a few hours before they do?”

Flapjack frowned, but then let out an insistent (but quiet) chirp.

“Fine,” she replied, closing the journal again and putting it back into her bag. “But later you better tell Dad this was your idea.”

She placed the note, folded, under a small rock that was near her mom’s head. Flapjack nestled into her bag while Hawkthorne transformed into her staff.

“Okay, she mustered, “Let’s go.”

--

Chiara practically dropped out of the sky as soon as she recognized the building.

Okay, it wasn’t that she recognized it per say, but she heard the bell scream and it startled her. The bell screamed—that meant that school was in session, right? That meant school still existed!

Not that she was worried it wouldn’t be… it’s just been a while, right? Almost twenty years. She was hiding in a bush that was only a few feet away from the entrance and watched students file in. She studied their uniforms, recognizing them from the pictures her mother had shown her many times from the scrapbooks they had collected. With a quick illusion spell, she changed into her mom’s old style. She motioned Hawkthorne to join Flapjack in her bag and then took a deep breath.

She could do this.

Chiara hopped out of the bush, dusting off whatever leaves that stuck, and started marching herself up the steps.

A few students that were talking low walked past her.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure—it looks like a coven head is here today.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know, I don’t keep track of that!”

“It’s weird, coven heads never visit like this, something must have happened.”

“Do you think they found the Golden Guard?”

“What about that plant track girl?”

“I thought she was on the abomination track?”

“Dude, the posters are plastered all over the lockers—that’s a plant track uniform—“

The rest of their words trailed off as they lost themselves in the crowd.

Chiara could feel her heart pounding.

Was there… another Golden Guard?

She held onto her bag more tightly but kept walking. No one seemed to be paying attention to her, she could do this.

She could do this.

But could she do this?

She had never been inside a building that wasn’t her home. This was nothing like being inside the palistrom wood, that was for sure… it felt like it contained less magic.

Less wild magic, she supposed. There was still magic here.

Over the intercom, she heard a voice echo all over the halls:

“Students, please join me in the gym for an important announcement!”

The chatter amongst the students grew louder.

--

“I’m telling you, I just have a feeling we should be there!” Luz insisted, tugging on her girlfriends sleeve.

“Are you kidding? That’s exactly the opposite of what you guys said you were going to do!”

Gus wanted to roll his eyes at their bickering, but his eyes fell on one of the ‘missing’ posters that flew down to his feet. They were starting to peel off the walls at this point. He picked one up and folded it into his pocket.

“Please, Principal Bump, I deserve no accolades…”

Gus’ eyes narrowed as he looked up. That voice—

“Hello, everyone! My name is Adrian Graye, Head Witch of the Illusionist Coven…”

“Guys—I know who that is, but something doesn’t seem right. I’m going to check it out.”

He wasn’t even sure if they had heard him, but Gus made his way through the crowd, remaining cautious as he could.

“Unfortunately, I'm not here with good news,” Adrian Graye continued. “The Emperor's Coven has plans to stop multitrack studies by inducting every Hexside student into a coven before the Day of Unity.”

There was a collective gasp among the crowd and few outraged cries. Gus pushed through and made it to the front.

“Something about this doesn’t seem right,” he heard, or at least, he thought he heard. He turned around, looking for the voice he thought he recognized but no one popped out to him. He turned back to Principal Bump on stage.

“Don't worry,” he assured them. “No one's magic is going to be sealed away. Head Witch Graye supports us and has come to help!”

Gus stared at Graye.

“Before any Coven Scouts come by,” Adrian started again,  “I'm going to make illusions of sigils on your wrists. They'll be temporary and harmless!”

There was another uproar amongst the students. Gus noticed a bead of sweat on Bump’s forehead. Why did he seem uneasy?

“Don't worry,” Graye shouted, rolling his eyes. “Once a scout sees the fake sigil, they'll move on, and you can continue your studies in peace!” He snatched a random student’s hand, pulling her out from the crowd. “Now hold. Still--”

“STOP!” Gus shouted, knowing he’d be regretting making himself known in a few seconds. “Don't trust him, He's hiding behind an illusion!” With forceful arm movement, he broke the enormous illusion, making everyone see what was really happening.

The young student that Graye was holding onto dropped to the floor. She felt her whole body shaking. She stared at the student that had come to her rescue and her eyes widened even more.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 38 – Labyrinth Runners (Part II)

(flashback to earlier that morning)

Luz didn’t say much as they were walking to school.

There was still a lot to process.

Belos’ was planning on draining the Isles’ of its magic, whatever that meant. Belos was Phillip, the human, and the Golden Guard… the Golden Guards…

Did Hunter know what he was? Is that why he’s missing—did Belos get rid of him, like the rest?

Suddenly he felt guilty for drawing the conclusion Hunter had kidnapped Willow.

There had to be a connection though—they saw it themselves, in Belos’ memories—Belos hated Hunter, well, the Golden Guard, and whatever friendships he attempted to make outside of the Emperor’s Coven. There was one memory they weren’t able to get to in time, but he swore he saw Willow in it.

And then… then there was the Collector. He didn’t understand what or who it could be, what it could mean. How is it linked to the Titan? Belos was always talking about the Titan but was he just making it up?

He wished Luz would say something about it but he had a feeling, even if she could dismiss her guilt, that she didn’t know more than he did.

He let out a shaky sigh.

Wherever Willow was, he hoped she was okay.

He hoped Hunter was okay too.

--

Cale started fussing shortly after Chiara had left, waking Willow. Instinctively she rolled him over to her, slipping him under her shirt to breastfeed him and keep him warm at the same time. It wasn’t long until she heard the groggy voices of her other kiddos, but Hunter startled her. He shot up and reached over her to snag something that was stuck under a rock that was close to her head.

“Mother Titan—“ he said under his breath.

“What is it?” Willow asked, still feeling half-asleep, and reached for her glasses.

Hunter handed her the note that Chiara had left them.

Her eyes locked onto the words, her fingers pinching the note tightly.

“Damnit.”

They needed to get moving.

Now.

--

Baz was struggling to keep up with everyone’s pace, so Willow bent down to let him piggy-back ride for a while. He hadn’t spoken much since they arrived here. Being surrounded by soulless trees felt… unnatural. It made him feel uneasy.

He missed Home.

He missed Neighbor, too.

But now, not long after the sun had risen, they were crossing a wide clearing with no trees in sight. His sister had left a note that she went ahead and he wondered what she could possibly’ve been thinking.

How could she separate them?

He winced, remembering that is exactly what he had done—exactly what brought them here in the first place.

“How could she do something so reckless?” Hunter asked, not particularly to anyone, but loud enough for Willow to hear. He supposed Cale, who was in his arms, was listening too. He wiped the tear that was starting to form before it welled up in his eye, and then rested his cheek on the top of youngest’s head.

Hunter, beyond his fear of Belos and the unknown that lied ahead, had just started feeling a little grateful of the return—and then Chiara had to go off on her own. Sure, she was practically a teenager already—but didn’t they raise her well enough to know not to do that at a time like this? Was this the moment she was to prove he was a failure after all?

Willow, on the other hand, had somewhat expected this to happen. This is why, even before their original camping trip, she had conversation with Clover and Flapjack—should one of the kiddos venture off on their own at some point and they find out about it—one of them should go with them. Flapjack almost rolled his eyes at the time because if one of them were to sneak off while everyone was asleep, well, Clover would definitely be asleep.

Hunter was aware of this conversation, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. It didn’t stop Willow from worrying either, but the knowledge that Flapjack was with Chiara gave her a small reassurance. He was familiar with the Boiling Isles after all…and familiar with Belos.

“Daaaaaaaad, look!” Eliza shouted from up ahead. “Loooook!!!”

Her parents looked.

Not too far was their destination: Hexside.

--

(Present Time – Hexside)

Chiara couldn’t believe what she just did—she couldn’t believe what she was doing.

Seconds ago, she watched the Illusion Coven Head threatening the student that had destroyed his enormous illusion—but then the student reacted by throwing the entire school under an even bigger illusion. Illusion(s)? she wondered. What was real was blurring together with what wasn’t, it was hard to tell it all apart.

Graye had torn her from the crowd and was about to stamp her with a sigil—it was similar to the one her father had that he seemed ashamed of—and she had never been more terrified in her life. The student who stopped him, made him let go of her—he looked like—he looked exactly like—

Chirp chirp!!!

Chiara looked down—Flapjack weaseled his way out of her bag. He chirped frantically again, motioning towards where Graye had made his way to the student.

Somehow, she moved her body, she made her body run. She saw his eyes grow wider than hers and her big sister instincts took over. Right as the school fell under his spell she snatched him away from the coven head and did not stop.

--

She didn’t know where she was going—her father’s maps did not prepare her for this. She couldn’t tell where there were stairs or hallways, it was all being layered together under the illusion. Everything was so bright, Titan, why was everything so bright here? She was already overwhelmed by the amount of witches that were in the crowd, by deciding to venture here on her own, by, by—

“Wait, slow down—who are you?!”

Her heart almost lurched out of her chest but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

“Where are you taking—“ Gus started again, but then noticed a familiar bird flying with them alongside them at the same speed.

Gus managed to hold onto something along their path, immediately jerking them apart. Chiara crashed into the ground, and Flapjack flapped his way onto her head.

Gus gawked at the small bird, who let out a small confused chirp.

“I know you,” he gaped, but took a step back, noticing he didn’t quite recognize the witch that was with Hunter’s palisman. Flapjack cooed at Chiara, pecking at her ear.

Hawkthorne made his way out of her bag too, feeling a little left out. Noticing the student standing in front of Chiara’s body, he struck a defensive stance, narrowing his eyes at the witch. This palisman was bigger than the other, and the spikes along its back certainly made it more intimidating.

Wait, did it have spikes?

The student stared back at the palisman he did not recognize, confused. He blinked, and the glow around his eyes reduced, leaving only one eye with a bright blue rim around it.

Yeah, those were definitely spikes.

Drawing his own staff, he pointed it at Chiara, who just started to get up.

“Thank you,” he said, “for saving me back there.

“But I have to ask—if you have Hunter’s palisman… who are you?”

She sat up to face him, her cheeks completely drained of color.

They fell through a part of one of the illusions, which left them standing in a hallway. Along the walls were students’ lockers and on the lockers were several posters.

Posters that all had the same picture; it was a young picture of her mother.

The student noticed her gaze change and his eyes hardened.

“Do you know… where Willow is?”

She locked eyes with the student, unable to speak. This was impossible. This had to be a trick. This had to a part of his illusion.

The student shifted his stance, noticing the familiar, but unfamiliar witch was more frightened than he was. She couldn’t be working for Belos—at least, not voluntarily. He walked up to her slowly, and then offered his hand.

“Come on,” he said, “You can explain everything later. We should find a better hiding place before the Emperor’s guards or Graye finds us. I think I know where to go.”

Without hesitation she held up her hand and he took it, helping her to her feet. She couldn’t stop staring at him.

“Oh..kay… well, you can just follow me, then,” he said, and so she did. Some of the color returned to her face.

They made their way to a secluded room that was protected by one of the illusions—it looked like a bedroom, but she was sure it couldn’t be a real bedroom—not at school. He let go of her hand, but continued holding it out.

“I’m Gus, by the way.”

Chiara violently shook her head, trying to shake her way out of whatever joke this was. He looked exactly like the Gus from her mom’s scrapbooks and her scroll—but he couldn’t be any older than she was—how… what was happening right now?!

“This is usually the part where you say, ‘hi my name is ___, it’s nice to meet you’?”

“Gus,” she whispered, and then dropped, squatting on the ground this time. She hugged her knees, looking at Flapjack. He nodded at her, and then perched himself onto Gus’ shoulder.

“You’re… Gus,” she repeated, and then watched a folded sheet of paper fall out of his pocket. It unfolded slightly, revealing a section of one of the posters that had her mother’s face on it. She looked up, noticing a board on the wall that had more pictures—pictures of her mother with Gus, and others. Some of the same photos her mother had on her scroll.

“You’re—“ she stopped herself, not knowing how to go about this. “You’re Willow’s friend,” she decided, not asking him, but just stating so. Using her parents’ name felt strange in her mouth.

“Yes. I am,” Gus said, deciding to sit on the ground next to her.

 “You’re… Hunter’s friend, too?”

Gus hesitated.

“Well, kind of. It’s complicated,” he shrugged. “Are you Willow’s friend? Hunter’s? Scratch that,” he said, “Hunter doesn’t really have ‘friends’—but how do you know them?”

Her heart dropped.

Was this an alternate reality or did they really go back in time? Her parents trusted Gus—but was this… their Gus? It had to be, right?

She wasn’t so sure now.

“It’s… complicated,” she finally answered.

Well, at least he was getting somewhere.

“Willow was my first friend at Hexside,” he added, still uncertain of how to approach her.

“I know,” she replied, cursing herself for assuming it. Maybe she didn’t know, maybe this wasn’t the real Gus—

 “You do?”

She nodded, catching a glance at him, and then noticed Hawkthorne pecking at her bag. Oh!

Chiara pulled out her father’s journal and placed in her lap. Gus watched, but she didn’t open it. She took in a deep breath, counted, and then let out the breath. She could do this.

She could—

“You do know!” he exclaimed, and for the first time around her, grinned.

She smiled back, still nervous. She did?

Maybe…

Maybe it was possible her father and Gus weren’t friends… maybe she just misunderstood.

“My name is Chiara,” she finally revealed, her hands holding onto the unopened journal. “I’m… Willow is my mom.”

Gus blinked, and then laughed.

Chiara wasn’t laughing, she still looked tense.

He looked at her again, studying her features, just for the heck of it—what if Willow—no, that just couldn’t but what if—

Chiara had her eyes, her soft features. That wasn’t Willow’s nose, but—well, she had her hair, except a small section at the edge of her forehead was a dull white, it curled at the end, that was strange… Her voice—it sounded like—

No.

No!

This was ridiculous.

He looked away and his eyes found the slightly unfolded poster that had fallen out of his pocket.

Why would she… but why would she lie?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chiara said, interrupting his thoughts. “It’s impossible.”

“Uh, yeah?” he responded. “Who are you, really?”

“I told you,” she repeated, “My name is Chiara. I’m Willow’s daughter.”

Gus laughed in a higher pitch than he did just before.

“I want to believe you,” he giggled, “but Willow has been missing for two weeks. It feels like forever but it’s only been two weeks—that’s not enough time to, to reproduce—“

“Ugh, don’t say it like that, gross!” she reacted, raising her voice. “And maybe for you it’s been two weeks—I’m still trying to wrap my brain around that—but for me, well, for my mom and dad—it’s been like…it’s been…” she trailed off, her voice softening. “It’s been almost twenty years.”

Gus’ laugh fell to an immediate halt.

Chiara said it again.

Twenty.

    Years.

His body shifted from sitting on the floor to lying in a fetal position. Flapjack hopped in front of his face, curious about his reaction.

“Willow’s been gone… twenty years?”

The little cardinal nodded solemnly.

“They missed you,” she said. “They missed you a lot. Mom would tell us about all of the ‘shenanigans’ you and Luz would get up to at Hexside. Dad didn’t have as many stories but meeting you now that makes sense, I guess.”

“Hold on—hold on,” Gus stammered. “Where? Who?”

Chiara’s cheeks flushed, and looked at Flapjack for guidance. Was Dad really his friend? There was still a lot she wasn’t sure of—her parents said they’d explain everything when they found him, or rather, that he would explain—ugh, she didn’t know. She shook her head vigorously as an attempt to shake all of the bad thoughts out.

When her mind was quiet again, she looked down to her lap. Gingerly she opened it to its first page. She looked down at the first page of the journal, tracing her hand along her father’s handwriting. Maybe he’d be able to provide a subtle answer to Gus’ question? He had to have thought about it, right? They must have thought about it a million times.

Titan, she was getting lost in thought again.

Flapjack scuttled his way under the bed, rummaging around whatever clutter the illusion was hiding. He then fluttered his way back to Chiara, standing next to Hawkthorne, with a crumpled poster in his beak. He looked directly at Gus, meeting his eyes, and let out a small chirp, dropping the crumpled poster.

It was one of the ‘wanted’ posters of the Golden Guard.

The Golden Guard’s daughter clenched her jaw—Flapjack loved getting straight to the point sometimes, but can’t he read the room?

Gus, for the first couple of seconds, didn’t react. His eyes remained locked on the red bird until Chiara waved her hand to break his gaze. Without changing his expression, he looked away and gradually brought his hands to his face.

Chiara could not meet his gaze.

He wanted to scream.

This was impossible, right?

Right?

--

*

*

*

*

*

Bonus doodle of Chiara and Gus:

Chapter Text

Chapter 39 – Labyrinth Runners (Part III: Separation)

(Hunter/Willow clan reaching Hexside)

The moment they laid eyes on the school it was time to brave the skies. Willow took Cale from Hunter’s arms and put him in the baby-carrier that she spell-weaved before falling asleep last night. He was already getting fussy again so she made a mental note to feed him again upon their arrival, unless he fell asleep on the flight there.

“I’m going to ride with you, Baz—that all right with Finch?” Hunter asked, taking a knee so he could be at his eye level.

Baz nodded, transforming Finch into his staff. He paused, wondering if he should hand his staff to Dad.

“You’re leading us today,” his father said, gently patting him on the back. “I’m going to be sitting right behind you.”

“You can do it, Baz,” Elowyn encouraged, nudging him in the shoulder before she jumped onto her own staff.

Eliza joined her in the air, and started chanting,“Baz! Baz! Baz!”

He laughed into a small grin.

Willow, Cale, and Elowyn went off ahead of them while Eliza waited for Baz and Hunter before following.

He was still upset with Chiara for leaving, but he was happy to be in this family. He didn’t want to think that there was no way back to Home but as long as his family was here, it would be okay.

He would be okay.

--

They stared at the entrance to the school.

“It doesn’t look like anything has changed,” Willow remarked, and then checked on Cale. Thank Titan, he was fast asleep. Out of all of their kids, he was the heaviest sleeper—it was extremely convenient.

“Looks like something might be going on though,” Hunter said, noticing the heavy doors were ajar at the top of the steps. “Eliza—wait!”

Hunter followed his impulsive daughter up the steps and Baz followed him, jumping up the steps to catch his father’s hand before they both disappeared behind the door.

Elowyn looked up at her mom, who hadn’t moved.

“Are we going in?” she asked.

Willow blinked.

Without saying anything, she held her palm open for Elowyn to take it in her own. As they slowly walked up the steps together, they started picking up a commotion from inside the school.

Just find one of the staff, Willow thought to herself. They could this, right? Just follow the original plan and they will find Chiara.

They could do this.

She could this.

--

(Gus’ massive set of illusions have just swarmed the school and everyone is in disarray)

“Um, what just happened?” Luz asked, picking herself up. “Where did Gus go? He was right here a second ago!”

Amity was distracted by their change of surroundings—were they in the library? This wasn’t the school library, but…wasn’t it?

“Wait, did that coven head do this?” Luz exclaimed, and then almost went back to sitting on the ground. “Shoot shoot shoot—“

“Gus went to check out what Graye was here for, remember?” Amity reminded her, feeling more uneasy by the minute. “It looks like we’re in the public library—but I think we’re still at school, oh! I just got a text from Ed.”

Luz made her way closer and leaned over her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“He, Bump, and a bunch of others are in the Healing Homeroom,” she read, the looked up. “We should find our way over.”

--

“So…” Chiara said, breaking the silence, “this is a complicated spell you have holding up, isn’t it?”

It was hard not to stare at his one glowing eye.

Gus blinked.

“…Yeah, I.. I’ve never made one this big before,” he admitted. 

“Can you un-spell it?”

“I don’t know how,” he answered, grateful for the conversation shift, but for some reason his stomach was still in knots. “We should probably find a teacher.”

“Can we…can we trust them?”

Chiara was cradling the wrist that Graye had grabbed when he pulled her out of the crowd. When he came inches close to giving her a sigil. Gus watched her shudder.

“Graye isn’t a teacher, but now that you’re asking—I… I don’t know. I think so,” he said, cuddling his palisman in his own lap. “I hope so.”

“Well,” she said quietly, looking at Flapjack, “we can wait for my parents to get here. They should be close by now, if they’re not already inside the school, looking for me.” She did not look forward to them finding her, though—she was going to be in so much trouble.

“Y-your parents—are you saying Willow is here?”

She nodded, feeling her ears burn.

--

“Luz, watch out!” Amity cried.

One of the coven scouts had just snuck around the corner, about to land an attack on the human. She spun around, landing a glyph on the thorny vine, entrapping the guard with their own spell.

“I totally got you,” Luz cackled.

“Don’t scare me like that,” her girlfriend scoffed, watching her head as they passed the scout who was now hanging upside down by one of the bookshelves. They continued to walk down the aisle of bookshelves, looking for a way out.

Hunter’s legs wobbled. Baz was already holding his one hand but Eliza had started wandering away from them after they walked into the school. Everything shifted around them as soon as they stepped in, but thankfully, he was able to catch his daughter by the shoulder before they tumbled into what looked like a library.

A large library.

“Ow, Dad—what was that for?” Eliza snapped, breaking away from his grip and then tripped. She landed on the carpet, which felt like stone, and then gradually laid her head back on the ground.

“The ceiling is so…high,” she remarked, mesmerized by the tall bookshelves that touched the ceiling.

Baz, on the other hand, only tightened his grasp around Hunter’s fingers, not sure if he could say anything. It was bright outside, but for some reason, it seemed brighter inside. He felt like his head was spinning.

“Amity, what if there’s a secret door and we just have to pull one of the books to undo a part of the illusion?”

“That’s not how illusion magic works, Luz.”

Hunter’s ears perked up at the voices, but then Amity and Luz turned a corner through the maze of shelves. He grabbed Eliza’s ankles and yanked her out of sight, throwing all three of them behind the bookcase closest to them. He slapped a hand over his daughter’s mouth and put a finger over his, meeting her eyes. Instead of spitting or biting like he expected, she gave a simple, stiff nod. He removed his hand and let out a quiet, slow breath.

“Who was that?” Eliza whispered, after the strangers’ voices grew fainter.

“W-what happened?” Baz asked in a fragile voice. Finch cooed by his ear, nuzzling him softly.

“I’m not sure,” their father answered, unable to look either of them in the eye. “There’s not a lot that is making sense right now.” He peeked around the bookcase to see if the strangers were out of sight.

“Maybe this isn’t Hexside?” Eliza suggested. She didn’t really know what the school was supposed to look like—maybe her parents’ memories weren’t as good as they thought.

“That’s not what I’m confused about,” Hunter muttered, just under his breath.

--

“Where did they go?” Elowyn asked, getting up after their new environment had warped around them. “What… is this place?”

Willow, on the ground, immediately shifted Cale in the baby carrier to rest on her front instead of her back. Whatever just happened was dizzying and strange—and baby Cale was not happy.

“Something feels weird, Mom—is Cale okay?”

“He’s just hungry,” Willow assured her, and then took her wailing son out so she could silence feed him. “Elowyn—please don’t wander off, okay? I’m not sure what’s going on, I don’t want you to get lost.”

Elowyn walked back to her mother, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at her surroundings. “I don’t think this is real,” she said, reaching towards the wall behind Willow.

“Please,” her mom said, catching her wrist. “I need you to sit with me until Cale is done eating, okay?”

Elowyn blinked. This was the most worry she had seen on her mother’s face since their arrival—something was off.

No.

Something was wrong about the school.

“For the time being, we’re going to sit,” Willow instructed, “and listen.”

She nodded, folding her hands on top of her knees when she sat down.

They’ll find Chiara. They’ll find Dad—they’ll find everyone again.

Wherever they were, it wasn’t real—Elowyn was sure of that. It felt like someone had cast a huge mask that blanketed their vision—almost like a dense fog in the forest.

Fogs eventually dissipate, she reminded herself.

They just had to wait.

--

“I’m not sure if we should wait for Willow and Hunter to find us,” Gus decided, as he began to pace back and forth. “If they’ve been gone as long as you’ve said, there’s a lot they probably don’t remember… plus, the coven scouts are probably all over the school right now—“

Chiara picked up the crinkled poster of her father. “Are they looking for him?”

“Well, they’re looking for the Golden Guard they know…so yes, probably—but not exactly, since—I mean, he can’t look the same, right?”

Their eyes met briefly, but Gus turned his back to her a second later. He tried to focus on the scattered pictures from flyer derby decorating the wall. He wasn’t sure how much Chiara knew, or even if Hunter knew himself. Did grimwalkers age? They had to age, right?

“You still don’t believe me,” she stated, again, not asking a question—just acknowledging a fact that was floating between them.

“We’re not safe if we stay here,” he said, brushing over her words. “Graye is bound to find a way to break through my illusion eventually. We should try to find Luz and Amity.”

Chiara let out a soft sigh, closing her eyes, trying her best to accept her circumstances. There was a subtle ringing that was bouncing around inside her skull. It was gradually getting louder and the colors of the illusions layering over reality were really starting to over-stimulate her.

How did her parents live in such a place? How could they stand it?

When she first stepped into the school, yes, it was marvelous… but at the same time, it was overwhelming. She was used to the quiet, dark nothingness of Home. Even where they would go camping by the end of the river where there was light—it wasn’t even close to how saturated to what surrounded her now.

“I can see through my illusions now,” Gus said, squatting back down to where she sat. He gestured to his one eye that wasn’t glowing. “I don’t know where they are, but I promise we won’t get lost.”

The crouched witch opened her eyes. The two bird palismen fluttered about, nudging her to look up. Gus held out his hand and she took it. She placed her father’s journal back in her bag and then cocked her head.

She recognized a faint, whistling melody. Flapjack warbled enthusiastically in response.

“Where is that coming from?” Gus asked, squinting through his illusion.

“Dad?”

--

“AHA!” Luz cried, somersaulting out of nowhere, slapping two plant glyphs together at the scouts that were hiding—wait, those weren’t—

Eliza had called Brahm, her palisman, to transform into her staff. She blocked Luz’ spell, jumping into a wide stance in front of her brother.

She wasn’t quick enough to notice the other witch who morphed an abominable purple substance, capturing her father right next to her.

Eliza’s eyes glowed fiercely, but there were tears welling in them.

Amity glared at her prisoner, but when their eyes met she took a step back. The disdain she expected to see wasn’t there. Hunter’s eyes shifted to Baz, who couldn’t take his eyes off the confused human in front of them.

“You’re not coven scouts, are you?” Luz wondered out loud, shifting her gaze back to Amity.

“We still can’t trust him,” her girlfriend said, gesturing towards to Hunter. “That’s the Golden Guard’s emblem—he might not be one of them but he’s with them—“

Luz walked closer, forgetting about the children behind her, studying his face. Yes, he did have the Golden Guard’s emblem—it was pinned to his collar—but it was more than that.

He looked familiar.

“Are you one of them?” she whispered to herself, but Hunter’s eyes widened. “Amity, let him talk—I have questions.”

Reluctantly, Amity removed some of the abomination goo that was covering Hunter’s mouth.

“Did Belos replace Hunter with you?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to.

Eliza and Baz were both standing now, looking to their dad for instruction.

“I’ll answer any questions you have,” he said in a stern voice, “but please, let me go first. You’re scaring them.”

The two of them looked back at the younger witches with their palismen.

“Who are you and what are doing with them?” Amity interrogated, blocking his view of them.

“He’s our dad,” Eliza shouted. “Now let him go, or you’re really gonna get it!” She stomped her feet, too, forcing Hunter to stifle a small laugh. It was very cute, despite the situation.

Luz placed her hand on Amity’s shoulder, nodding. Amity released her prisoner; he staggered back but he caught himself before falling. Eliza and Baz ran toward him. He knelt down and hugged them tightly, and then looked back at the girls who caught them. They were waiting for an answer—Luz especially, who held a grave expression on her face.

--

Elowyn followed her mother (and Cale, who was now sleeping) along the corridor they managed to walk into through what they thought was a door.

“I knew it wasn’t real,” she said triumphantly, looking to her mom for approval, but Willow wasn’t looking at her daughter.

Willow’s eyes were glued to the many posters that were peeling off of the students’ lockers.

“Is…is this real?” she asked, hesitantly approaching them.

Elowyn caught up to her and then slapped her hand on one of them.

“Yep,” she concluded. “But what are they?” she asked, looking back at them.

Oh.

She ripped one off to study it more closely.

“Isn’t that you?”

Clover, who had been comfortably snoring in Willow’s hair, peeked their head out. She flew out excitedly, buzzing around Elowyn. Included in the young picture of Willow was also her palisman.

“These… shouldn’t be here,” Willow said quietly. “It’s been too long for these to be here.”

“Doesn’t this mean they never stopped looking for you, Mom?”

“I.. I don’t know, Elowyn. Maybe.”

Her mother’s expression looked oddly wistful.

“We need to keep looking for your sister,” she decided, taking her daughter’s hand. “Dad taught you Flapjack’s favorite song, right?”

Elowyn nodded confidently. After they started walking again, she started to whistle.

The soft, flute-like sound grew louder, echoing along the hallway. Using her magic, she cast a direction on the melody, hopefully leading her father’s palisman to them.

--

“Watch out!” Baz cried, noticing the bookcases behind them had begun to creak. Somebody, or something, pushed one of them and they had begun toppling over like dominos. He pushed his sister out of the way and Hunter managed to scoop him up, throwing him over to Eliza. He then jumped back to grab their frozen captors, getting them out just in time.

“W-why did you do that?” Amity asked, gaping at Hunter.

“That wasn’t me,” he said, walking closer to his kids, “I swear.”

“No,” Luz said, “Why did you save us?”

Eliza studied their perplexed faces, and then her dad’s. They did look familiar to her, but she couldn’t place exactly why. Dad definitely recognized them, she decided.

“I’m—I’m not the bad guy, here, okay?” he stammered, frustrated that he sounded nervous in front of them. “We should find somewhere safer—I—we have questions too.”

They both looked at each other and gave a firm nod.

-

Eliza crossed her arms, refusing to look at the witches they were now walking alongside with. She walked ahead, as usual, and Baz walked close to Dad.

“We’re going to find the healing homeroom—right?” Luz asked, trying to break the silence.

“I…don’t know, now,” Amity said. She still had this stranger under suspicion.

Luz didn’t disagree, but she didn’t know what to think, either.

Eliza started running back to them.

“There’s someone else, Dad—up ahead!” She pointed, purposefully not looking at Luz or Amity.

They all looked up—it was—

“Willow!” Amity cried, running toward her friend. “You’re here? You’re safe! Where have you been all this time!”

Eliza turned around again, watching the two witches crowd around their long-lost friend. Hunter put his hand on his daughter’s shoulder again, and squeezed. She looked up, watching him shake his head slowly.

“Luz, Amity—I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” the young Willow cried, but then flashed her gaze to Hunter. “Who are they?”

Luz laughed, about to reassure her, but when she turned to look back she saw that the father and his children had taken more than a few steps back.

“Wait, where are you going? This is our friend—she’s been missing for like, two whole weeks and—“

“That’s not your friend,” he croaked, cutting her off.

“Interesting…” the young Willow said, and started walking toward him. “Anyway, let’s find the others before these illusions get anymore—“

Hunter reached into his pocket for a glyph with a calculated throw, he launched a thorny vine at her.

“Whoa, what are you doing—“

“She’s on our side, you—“

They turned their heads back at their friend…who wasn’t their friend anymore. In her place stood a startled coven scout.

Luz didn’t know what to think in that moment. First—this wasn’t Willow—but how did he know? And he just used a glyph—how did he—why—

“Cut!” an exasperated voice shouted behind them.

“Are you serious?” the coven scout agonized, “Again?”

Immediately, there were several more coven scouts surrounding them and then also—

“Severine,” Graye said, shaking his head, “You had your chance and you blew it! Not that I’m surprised…”

“The illusion Coven Head?” Hunter thought, not realizing he had spoken it out loud.

“So your familiar with my work!” Adrian answered, soaking in whatever flattery he could acquire. “Glad to hear it!” He got up from his director’s chair, eyeing Hunter and the smaller witches closely. “But,” he started, looking up at Luz and Amity, “you are all making my job very difficult.”

He snapped his fingers, calling the other scouts. They grabbed Luz and Amity, snatching Amity’s staff away from her. Before Hunter could reach for another glyph, a taller, heftier scout tied his hands behind his back. He kicked him, forcing the scout to take a step back, but it wasn’t long until more of them were closing in. Hunter nudged Baz toward Eliza and through gritted teeth he whispered, “Take Baz with you—“

Immediately, she called her staff into her hand, but she couldn’t move. For the first time, her legs were trembling. Baz and Finch both tugged at her sleeve.

“Find your Mom,” their father ordered. He didn’t want to separate them but right now he didn’t have a choice. “You can do it,” he whispered again, but more gently. He swallowed, and then turned around only to be overshadowed by a large, looming figure.

He collapsed to his knees.

Luz went nearly limp in the coven scout’s arm and a curious grin crept onto Graye’s face.

“Belos?”

Amity continued to fight against who was holding her down, but the coven head didn’t give any more orders. He watched the youngest witch hold onto his sister as they took off. Then, he cocked his head, walked up to the mysterious father, placing his foot to his back.

He shoved him down, planting his face into the ground.

“I think you’ll make a rather exquisite gift to the emperor, don’t you think?”

Graye laughed at his own comment, and then looked down again, watching a tear drag down Hunter’s flushed face. The coven head rolled his eyes and then snapped his fingers.

“That’s a wrap, folks! Let’s put these trouble-makers out of their misery—it’s time we find their little ‘mastermind’, hm?”

The figure of Belos separated into two coven scouts that looked at each other questioningly. Luz let out a sigh of relief, and the one holding her shouted back at the confused scouts.

“A sleeping spell, idiots!” he yelled, and then did as he was told to both Luz and Amity. “Put him to sleep.”

“Right!”

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 40 – Labyrinth Runners (Part IV: Reunification [1/2])

Hunter’s eyelids felt heavy—actually, his entire body ached. What was he—crap—

“Baz—‘Liza—“ he tried to shout, his voice feeling hoarse. If he was really where he thought he was—and Belos…

Oh.

He blinked.

He was surrounded by students.

“Dad’s awake!” Eliza whispered, poking Baz, who jumped.

“We couldn’t find Mom,” he whimpered, waiting for his father’s disappointed gaze.

“Yeah, well we found these guys!” Eliza maintained, trying to keep some of her pride.

Nothing but relief washed over him. He grabbed both of their heads and brought them close to his chest, planting a kiss on top of both.

“I’m just glad you’re safe,” he said softly, without letting go.

“Yes…” a vaguely familiar voice said behind him. “The flyer derby team was lucky to have run into these youngsters—very young to have a palisman, if I might add—but we’re grateful to them all the same.”

Principal Bump crossed his arms as Hunter turned to face him.

“You haven’t aged a day, huh, Bump?” he said nervously, feeling the eyes in the room pore into him.

“He did save us from being trampled by bookcases,” Luz swore, jumping into the conversation.

“Yes, so you say,” the principal acknowledged, remaining suspicious. “However, your children haven’t been making much sense.”

Eliza huffed.

“I mean, he looks like Hunter,” Viney shrugged, and Skara elbowed her. “What? He does! He’s just… manlier, I guess?”

“I could take him,” Mattholumule bragged.

“Yeah, right,” Skara hissed at him.

He turned around at her voice, meeting both of Viney and Skara’s eyes. They flinched slightly, but didn’t step back.

It was really them, wasn’t it?

He looked around and found Amity, sitting with the other Blight kids. Luz was standing even closer to him now, but Eliza remained standing guard around him.

“It’s okay, ‘Liza,” he said. “You did good—I know these witches.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you, though,” she said, climbing onto the table to sit next to him. Hunter then pulled Baz up to sit on his lap.

Hunter took a deep breath.

“I’m not sure how much Eliza and Baz were able to explain—but it’s time everyone, you guys included,” he said to his kids, “to know the whole story.

“But there’s something I want to confirm before I continue.”

“Yes?” Principal Bump asked, suspicious but even more curious now.

“Willow Park… has been missing… for only two weeks?”

The room got quiet.

“And Hunter…” he brought up, somewhat uncomfortably, “hasn’t been seen for… only two weeks, as well?”

“That’s as far as I understand it, yes,” Bump confirmed, but confused.

“She disappeared, and so did her dads—they’re missing too,” Skara said.

“There’s a lot of gossip going around that the Golden Guard kidnapped her—but I never believed that,” Viney insisted.

“You are literally the one who suggested the possibility!”

“Shut up, Jerbo!”

“Students—pipe down, this man might have information about where Willow and her parents are!”

Hunter’s face went a little pale.

“I-I don’t know where Willow is in this exact moment,” he admitted, regretfully, “but I can tell you that she… well, we… Titan, you’re just not going to believe me.”

He almost laughed.

“Spit it out, already,” Amity demanded, walking up to him with her staff in hand.

Hunter took in a deep breath and then glanced at Viney and Skara. It was time to tell everyone what happened.

He’d better start from the beginning.

The very beginning.

--

Chiara was quiet as they walked, and Gus didn’t know what to say. He wanted to believe Willow and Hunter were back but if what Chiara had said was true—who was he to Willow now? A faded memory? He couldn’t imagine Willow being… grown-up.

He knew she liked Hunter—and it was obvious he liked her too, they teased both of them about it—but…ugh. They had to escape the Belos’ mind before they could find what he was looking for. He could have sworn he saw a memory of Willow in there, it was just a snippet, but still! They didn’t have time to go after it if they wanted to preserve their lives.

Gus tried to get into the mind of Hunter too (imaginatively, not literally). If he had kidnapped her, what would have been the reason? Where would he have taken her? What would have made Willow follow him… and prevented her from returning?

“I’m sorry,” Chiara said, breaking the silence. They were still following the whistling, but it still seemed unclear where it was coming from.

“For what?”

“I don’t know what it’s like to not see your best friend for almost twenty years… or even for two weeks,” she realized, feeling her voice hollow. “The last time you saw my parents… she wasn’t much older than me.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. I thought about time pools, because I know Luz had been through one before—but this is different, isn’t it?”

Chiara didn’t have a real answer. Her parents never fully explained to her or her siblings how they arrived at Home. Even after ending up here, she didn’t fully understand it.

“Where I grew up,” she started, “we were surrounded by wild magic. I can remember some things my parents have said…” and some things I’ve read from Dad’s journals, she omitted, “I remember them saying that The Boiling Isles didn’t have nearly as much wild magic… and where it did, it was hidden.”

“Hm,” Gus thought out loud, feeling reminded of Eda for some reason. “Do you think… wild magic is what made Willow—I mean, your mom, disappear?”

Chiara didn’t know how to reply to that.

She didn’t disappear.

She just… went somewhere else.

“I’ll bet she’s a good mom,” Gus said, seeing Chiara’s contorting expression.

“She is,” she replied quietly. And Dad is a good dad, she continued in her mind, thinking that Gus probably wanted to hear less of him and more of her mother.

“Can you tell me what Willow and Hunter were like, here on the Boiling Isles?” she asked, noticing another poster peeling off a wall.

“Both of them?” he asked, bemused. “Like, together?”

Their oldest daughter nodded. “How did they meet?”

Gus suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Wouldn’t they have already told you that story?”

“I want to hear it from your perspective, though,” she insisted.

Gus contemplated on where to begin.

“I remember when we both met Hunter—it was kind of at the same time—but he didn’t introduce himself as,” he stopped for a second, and then continued. “He was pretty awkward when we met him. Willow was excited though—she really wanted to start the flyer derby team and when she saw him fly,” he paused, stifling a chuckle, “she yanked him out of the sky.”

Chiara couldn’t stop the smile that inched its way on her face. “Dad said he had never been so impressed and terrified at the same time.”

--

Viney and Skara’s starry-eyed expressions were glued to Baz.

“And there’s an even smaller one?” Viney asked, and Baz felt his face flush. He had never had so many eyes on him before.

Hunter noticed he looked a little uncomfortable and placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Willow has Cale with her, our youngest, yes,” he acknowledged, hoping it was true. “And Eliza has a twin, Elowyn, who should be with them.”

“But we still haven’t found Chiara!” Eliza explained, exasperated. She had tried to explain their situation several times before her father had woken up but no one had taken her seriously.

The rest of the crowd was speaking in hushed tones but Hunter looked to Principal Bump, begging him to believe their story.

“If it’s true that Willow is out there and she has the rest of your family, there’s no time to lose,” he decided. “It’s hard for me to say I’ve seen stranger things—but with Luz telling me she had just been in the Emperor’s mind, I’ll take your word for it—for now.”

A weight lifted from Hunter’s shoulders but the weight of what Bump ended with caught him off guard. Luz was standing in the back of the room, awkwardly waving at him.

Hunter did not share with the group about the history of Phillip and Caleb and how he himself was linked to Belos. He didn’t feel comfortable sharing it since the stories he knew were only from Flapjack and Chiarelle’s perspective—but if Luz had been in Belos’ mind—shit, he needed to talk to her.

Privately.

Baz had left his grasp after Eliza took his hand—the students had surrounded the both of them, throwing question after question. Both team members of the Emerald Entrails were absolutely taken by them, especially Baz, Hunter noticed.

He smirked.

He and Willow did all right.

Now was his chance to speak with Luz, though. He pardoned his way past the desks and chairs and stopped when he reached Amity, who had her arms crossed, standing in front of her girlfriend.

“You might have the rest of this party convinced, but—“

“Amity,” Luz interrupted, gently guiding her out of the way. “It’s okay.”

She tucked her purple hair behind her ears, took a deep breath, and stepped back, not taking her eyes off of Hunter.

“So it’s really you?” Luz asked, her voice on the verge of breaking. “Belos didn’t—he didn’t kill you?”

“You know what I am, don’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question; it was a confirmation. She bit her lip and gave a stiff nod.

“Eliza and Baz,” he said, getting closer, “They don’t know everything. I’d like to keep it that way, for now.”

“But you’re—“

“They know I’m a grimwalker, okay?” he said, almost shouting in his whisper. “But they don’t know what that means, not completely.”

“H-how—if you’re not a witch, if you’re not human—“

“I probably know even less than you,” he said, knowing the bubbling questions that must be erupting in her mind. “What I do know is that we need to stop Belos from the doing the draining spell—“

“So you’ve known? All this time? Even, even back when you were here before?” Amity cried, finished with restraining herself.

“Of course I knew!” he hissed at her, “But I didn’t know what it would mean! I didn’t know I was a grimwalker then—if I did, Titan, if I did—“

“Okay, okay!” Luz yelled, jumping between them. “What’s important is now we know more about Belos than we ever did, we both do, and if we’re going to stop him, we’re going to have to work together!”

Amity bit her lip, but stepped back.

Hunter gave a weak smile.

“I know it hasn’t been as long for you as it’s been for us, but,” he paused, looking at both Luz and Amity, “I never thought how much of a relief it would be to know you haven’t changed at all. I’m grateful.”

Luz stared at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. There were so many grimwalkers before him but he’s survived longer than any of them. He… it was really him, wasn’t it? This sad but bad boy—okay, sad but bad man—no, that’s weird—sad but bad dad—but he didn’t seem like a bad dad, so maybe—

“It’s time we all put together a plan,” Principal Bump said, interrupting her thoughts.

Hunter turned around, giving him a grim nod.

Time to find them.

--

Reunification: Part II

Elowyn felt like she was getting a headache after whistling for a while. While it was getting easier and easier for her to tell apart what was fake and what wasn’t, both reality and the illusions felt unnaturally bright. The magic that seeped through the hallways felt unnatural. It made her wonder if they were on the Boiling Isles at all—maybe this wasn’t really the Hexside her mom went to after all?

She bet Eliza was wondering the same thing—well, not exactly the same thing, but something similar. They were twins, they finished each other’s sentences all of the time—but she genuinely believed their brains were on different wavelengths.

She hoped she was okay—especially since Baz was probably with her.

She hoped Baz was with her and Dad—she didn’t want to imagine if they were all separated.

Ugh. Why did Chiara have to go ahead? Does she think just because she’s the oldest she can do whatever she wants? How could she be this careless? This stupid?

“Don’t blame your sister,” her mother said softly, reading her expression.

“Are all moms mind-readers?” Elowyn asked, not appreciating feeling probed.

Willow let out a small laugh but nodded confidently. Her daughter huffed, and then went back to whistling the same tune she was a few minutes ago. She had to keep her mind off her sister to find her sister, she supposed.

 It really felt strange to Willow, following her daughter in the halls of Hexside while holding her baby. She didn’t allow herself to forget her friends but there were still many details that faded from her memory. She couldn’t even begin to guess what was going on at the school right now, let alone explain the posters of her and Hunter that were plastered along the lockers.

She remembered wondering, for a time, would they find their way back in time for their kids to attend Hexside, if the school was standing, that is. Whatever darkness Belos had planned long ago would have passed by now, wouldn’t it have? Did they manage to defeat him and the draining spell?

She stared at the wanted and missing posters beside the wall again.

Maybe Belos wasn’t defeated—maybe…

“Another illusion,” Elowyn noticed, interrupting her mother’s thoughts.

Elowyn was right—they weren’t at school anymore—well, that’s what it seemed like. It looked more mystical than any place she should remember from the Boiling Isles.

It was beautiful. 

Large, sculptured stones were standing in a circle and the grass they were standing in was buzzing around with tiny, glowing fairy flies. She swore she even felt a cool breeze.

“Does this happen a lot at school?”

“Not that I can remember,” Willow answered, wondering if this really was the Boiling Isles she knew.

They gingerly approached one of the tall sculptures that was holding a large, round stone. Elowyn cocked her head to the side, trying to get the best angle to get a good look at it. If it wasn’t an illusion, she’d love to take it home and study—

“Elowyn!” Willow whispered harshly, pulling her to the side. Before she had any time to react, she noticed shadows stretching onto the field where they just were. Her mother locked eyes with her, holding her finger to her mouth.

She nodded, eyes wide, desperately wanting to take a peek at whoever had taken their place by the sculptures.

“Who is it?” she mouthed, trying to wriggle out of her mother’s grasp.

Willow shook her head, as the voices the shadows belonged began murmuring closer.

-

“This is a complicated spell. I—If we could have some direction...” a small voice asked.

“Am I the only one who knows how to do their job?” another voice snapped.  “Just figure it out!”

The same voice changed its tone to somewhat curious, ignoring their companions that were grumbling behind them.

“Would you look at this? The detail is just so... He must have been to the Looking Glass Ruins himself…”

-

Elowyn couldn’t figure out her mother’s expression. Her eyes were locked on the shadows with bill-like heads walking about and her Willow’s grip was getting tighter around her arms. She wanted to say something but—

“Mom!”

Willow’s eyes jumped and Elowyn’s followed.

Her twin sister was standing in front of them with several other young witches whispering amongst themselves.

“So Hunter was telling the truth?”

“Is that really your mom?”

“Willow?”

“SSSHHH!” Elowyn shushed as quietly as she could, trying to make eye contact with everyone who wouldn’t stop talking.

Everyone finally noticed the long shadows that were moving along the grass they were standing on and immediately jumped back out of the illusion.

“Follow them,” Willow whispered, picking herself up and nudging Elowyn forward.

Eager to see her sister again, she did not have to be told twice.

--

“So we lost the runaway—but he isn’t what we came for in the first place, anyway…” Graye trailed off as the coven scouts lagged behind him.

“He’s monologuing again,” Severine sighed, looking at her fellow, equally exhausted scouts. She already felt like she drew the short straw when she got tasked this morning to his assignment from the Emperor – Adrian Graye was fickle-minded asshole that never shuts up. Every time she had gotten assigned to him he would never stick to the original goal of whatever order he was given.

He had one job today—one job! Apply sigils to the students and leave. Now he was distracted by this random twelve-year-old’s illusions. They were impressive, she had to give the kid credit, but she was tired. Graye was still talking.

“It’s no matter—I’m sure once we find the wretched human and her friend who caused this mess he can lead us to—“

The illusion covenhead’s voice cut short. Severine looked up, curious as to what made Adrian Graye speechless.

--

“The whistling stopped,” Gus noticed.

“That doesn’t mean we should,” Chiara replied, feeling her stomach churn.

They had been walking for a good while now, hearing the whistling off and on, but this time it didn’t seem like it was coming back.

“Do you think… my parents know what’s going on?” she asked as she walked down a couple of stairs.

“Willow might be able to tell my illusions apart from others, but honestly?” he hesitated, seeing the concern on her face, “I’m not sure.”

“I mean—I sort of know who Belos is, but do you think—“

Gus stopped walking, feeling his entire body shiver.

“Do you know who Belos is?”

Chiara stopped too, turning around to face him. He almost looked green.

His foot then missed a step and Chiara caught him before he caused them to stumble down the steps.

“Maybe we should stop for a bit,” she mumbled, feeling his arms trembling against her. She sat down, guiding Gus to sit on the step above where she was now sitting. His eyes reminded her of her dad’s eyes right after they had arrived.

After Gus’ breathing returned to a regular pace, Chiara let out a small sigh of relief. Their eyes met, but Gus quickly looked away, not knowing where to hold his gaze.

“If I tell you what I know about this Belos guy,” she approached hesitantly, “can you tell me what I got right and what I got wrong?”

“Yeah,” Gus answered, still refraining from meeting her eyes. “I can do that.”

“Belos was the emperor of the Boiling Isles—“

“Is,” he corrected, shuddering. “He is the emperor.”

She nodded and continued, “My dad used to work for him, back when he didn’t know he was evil. He thought he was good.”

Gus had no response, as he could not confirm or deny.

“He used to have other Golden Guards in the past, before my dad,” she said.

Gus clenched his jaw.

“Belos was going to hurt my mom if my dad didn’t do what he told him to,” she continued, but this time Gus stared at her.

“Is that true?”

“I’m telling you what I know,” she replied, shrugging softly. “I know he’s the reason my parents ended up alone where… where I grew up.” She paused for a moment. “I guess I didn’t know just how scary he really was.”

“Is,” Gus repeated. “He is scary.”

“Right,” she said, looking down. Maybe she didn’t want to find out the whole truth after all—not if it made everyone tremble the way they did.

After a minute or so of silence between them, Gus asked a question.

“Does Hunter know about the Golden Guards before him? Like, who they were?”

Flapjack fluttered to his knee and gave a firm nod. Gus’ face paled.

“I think—“ Gus stuttered, “I think I’m going to be sick—“ and he slapped his hand over his mouth, turning away from Chiara.

It took a few minutes, but he regained his composure. She felt a little awkward, keeping watch as her new friend hurled his guts out at the end of the stairs.

She supposed being so far removed from what her parents had left that knowing Belos was a violent man made him more of a nightmare than a reality in her mind. She was more afraid of Adrian Graye than Belos right now.

“Do you know who Phillip and…and Caleb are?” Gus asked as they both started walking again.

“Belos and Phillip are the same person,” she stated immediately, “and Caleb is basically my great-great-great-great-great grandfather or whatever. They used to be friends but Caleb fell in love with a witch and Belos didn’t like that.”

Flapjack chirped solemnly in agreement, landing on her shoulder, but looked at Gus curiously.

“Did Hunter—I mean, your dad—ever talk about…his parents?”

Chiara turned around, putting her hands on her hips.

“But he never had any?”

Gus blinked, not knowing how to respond to her matter-of-fact response.

“So you know… he’s not a witch?”

“Well, obviously,” Chiara said, casting a small spell in one hand and pulling out a glyph from her pocket with the other. “He can’t exactly do magic like my mom, or us, for that matter.”

“So he is—he is a grimwalker,” Gus accepted, not realizing he had said it out loud. Before he could panic about accidentally letting a secret slip out, he noticed Chiara was studying his face.

“Did you not know that before?”

“How could I have known—grimwalkers are like a myth! I could barely comprehend it when we were in Belos’ mind, let alone right now—“

“You were in Belos’ mind?”

Gus swallowed, not wanting to tread that memory over with her.

“This little witch certainly has gotten around,” a familiar voice snarled behind them.

Chiara froze, clamping her grip onto Gus’ wrist.

“First it’s the Emperor’s mind, then you’re friends with the human, and now I’m learning you know where the Looking Glass Ruins are, don’t you?”

Gus didn’t respond, but stood his ground.

“You can’t fool me,” Graye rolled his eyes, twirling his tail as the other guards that followed began to close in on them. “Your illusions gave a lot away—but now it’s time you tell me everything.”

--

Skara’s and Viney’s eyes were sparkling as they stared at adult Willow kiss the man they had just met who claimed to be Hunter.

Eliza rolled her eyes at their surprise but she did feel a little vindicated. Hunter, however, was still getting used to having all eyes on him. He could feel his ears get very, very hot. He broke off their kiss, cradling Willow’s face in his hands.

“There’s um, kind of a lot we have to catch you up on,” he said, just loud enough that she could hear. Cale was still asleep against her chest. Hunter lowered his head so he could plant a soft kiss on the top of his head and then again on Willow’s cheek.

“Ugh, gross—enough, Hunter, or whoever you really are—“ Mattholumule called out.

“She’s my wife,” Hunter sputtered, and Willow couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh.

“So…” a small voice came out of the crowd, “It’s really you, Willow?”

Luz and Amity were standing next to one another, completely unchanged from Willow’s memory. Viney stepped into view as well, holding Baz’s hand, and Skara followed her.

Principal Bump was standing among the other students, looking to her with question.

“Two weeks,” Hunter said softly. “We’ve been gone two weeks.”

Baz let go of Viney’s hand and ran over to his mom. Eliza and Elowyn followed him, so they could all stand together.

“Hunter and Eliza explained everything—well, they explained a lot,” Amity spoke up again, not sure how to talk to her old friend again. “But I need—we need to hear your side of the story, you know?”

Willow stared at her, blinking back tears, but then her eyes darted around the room.

“Where is Chiara?” she asked, immediately turning to Hunter.

“We were hoping we’d find her with you,” he said, trying not to choke on his own words.

“Don’t forget Gus is still missing,” Mattholomule called out again, not paying attention to the emotional atmosphere. “The illusion covenhead really has it out for him after seeing through his own illusion but—“

“That reminds me!” Skara cried, interrupting him. “I swore, the witch that Graye almost snagged with a sigil looked a lot like Willow!”

Hunter’s eyes hardened immediately.

“S-she got away, I swear,” Skara stammered, “but after Gus did his illusion spell everyone got split up—I don’t know where she went but—“

“Was that your daughter?” Principal Bump asked, stepping forward. “I did think it was odd I didn’t recognize a student.”

“We don’t know,” Willow said, trying not to feel defeated. “Chiara is our oldest but she’s only twelve—she decided to go off on her own without telling us—I mean our plan was to come here anyway but she went ahead and then I thought we were walking into the school together but then everything changed—“

“We got separated as soon as we walked through the front gates,” Hunter explained.

“I see,” Bump replied, scanning them once again. “Well, we had better find them soon. Since the illusions are still intact, I think it’s safe to assume Gus hasn’t been found yet. Let’s hope it’s the same for your daughter.”

Willow squeezed Hunter’s hand. Both of their souls felt heavy with dread.

“So this is your twin sister?” Luz asked Eliza, watching Elowyn stare at her.

“Obviously,” she answered, crossing her arms. “Elowyn, this is the human. Human, this is Elowyn.”

“You sure are your father’s daughter, huh?” the human laughed awkwardly, taking a small step back.

Elowyn sighed.

“Your name is Luz, right?”

Luz’s eyes brightened.

“I recognize you from pictures. We already know a lot about you.”

Luz’s eyes cringed.

“I—I see…”

“And you’re Amity,” she stated, turning to point at Amity. “You’re mom’s childhood friend who became her childhood bully but then you wanted to be friends again and Mom decided to take it slow with you.”

Amity gulped. Did Willow really share that much with them?

Eliza laughed.

“She’s just showing off that she’s good at remembering things,” Eliza assured her, uncrossing her arms.

“Right,” Amity chuckled, feeling even more uneasy than before. How could she be friends with Willow again if she couldn’t even befriend her offspring?

Titan. Their offspring? What was she thinking? If she continued to think like this, she could end up like her own mother—

“My mom missed you,” Elowyn said softly, to both of them.

Both Amity and Luz blinked.

“They’re both overwhelmed right now,” she continued, “but they are happy to see you, despite the circumstances. I can tell.”

Her mature answer surprised them.

“We missed her too,” Amity said, and Luz let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

Willow scanned the healing homeroom where they all returned to in order to regroup. She couldn’t remember if she had visited here before, but a certain red bird interrupted her thoughts.

Flapjack had flown in, close to full-speed, right into the chalkboard. It made a loud noise, causing everyone to turn their heads. Baz, who was still clinging to his mother since being reunited, audibly gasped.

Hunter cradled his palisman, trying not to panic. Everyone else remained silent, waiting for the news to break.

“He—he won’t—this hasn’t happened in years,” Hunter cried softly, holding Flapjack’s stiff body against his chest. His eyes turned to Willow, whose eyes began to water. If Flapjack was here, it meant he wasn’t with Chiara. If Flapjack had transformed into his wooden form again, and would not wake up… what happened to Chiara?

Baz looked around the room, watching everyone begin to whisper amongst themselves. He looked up at Willow who seemed frozen. He looked at his sisters, who had been staring at him the entire time.

Well? Eliza’s eyes seemed to say.

You’re the one who can talk to the palistrom trees, aren’t you? Elowyn insisted. Elowyn’s eyes always said more than Eliza’s.

That’s right, he thought, nodding at them. I can do this.

I can talk to Flapjack.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 41 – Grown-Up Illusions

Willow’s stomach lurched as Baz approached Hunter. She watched him tap his father’s cradled hands and gently take Flapjack into his. Luz, who had been standing behind her for a few minutes now, placed her hand on Willow’s back, startling her.

“I didn’t mean to make you jump,” Luz said quietly, taking her hand back. “I just… you had the same look my mom had when I skipped class once. I’m sure Chiara is going to be okay.”

Willow really couldn’t process her daughter still missing, but something about what Luz struck her.

“How long… have you been gone, Luz?”

“W-what?”

Willow hoped her parents were okay, wherever they were. She hoped they weren’t too worried. For them, it’s been two weeks—but what about Luz’s mom? She couldn’t remember how long ago she and Luz had met. How long had she been on the Boiling Isles before they met? Did her mother know she was gone?

She glanced at Baz again, who was stroking Flapjack in his hands, whispering to him softly. Most of the students were watching him. Hunter had held back his tears and was watching their son with Eliza in his lap. Elowyn was leaning against him, carrying Cale.

Then she noticed Amity watching from behind him.

Hunter looked old.

Okay, maybe not old, she thought, mature. Yeah. He looked mature.

What did she look like to Amity? To Luz?

It felt like she and Hunter were rectangles trying to fit into squares that had already rounded into circles.

“It’s weird seeing Hunter as a dad,” Luz observed, “but I think it suits him.”

Willow looked back at Luz. It should be strange for her to see Hunter as a parent—after all, she’s only known him as the Golden Guard, a naïve teenage kid who went around bullying others—well, attempted bullying she supposed—but for some reason the comment irked her.

“It does suit him,” she replied, looking at Luz, whose eyes had glossed over. She did not meet her gaze, as she was still looking at Eliza sitting in Hunter’s lap. Hunter’s arms were wrapped around her and he was resting his chin on her shoulder. Eliza was fidgeting a bit, trying to loosen his grasp, but Elowyn shook her head, telling her to just let their dad be.

“About two months,” Luz finally answered, wiping her eyes. She sniffled, and then looked back at Willow. “I’ve been gone about two months.”

Willow stared at her, watching her confident demeanor fall apart. Chiara has been missing less than a day but Luz has been gone for two months.

“It’s okay, though, really,” she insisted, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I’m just glad you’re back, you know? I’m—“

Willow pulled her in, enveloping her into her arms, squeezing tightly. Her damp, snotty face smothered into her shoulder and for a moment she didn’t move—she didn’t know how to react. Willow didn’t let go, though. She hugged her with one arm and cradled the back of her head in the other, hugging her even tighter. Luz lifted her arms to hug her back. She couldn’t hold back her sobs anymore.

“I miss my dad,” Luz muffled into her shoulder. It was barely audible, but Willow could hear it. “I miss him so much.”

“Me too,” Willow whispered, biting her lip. Me too.

--

Chiara’s eyes fluttered open. She couldn’t tell where they were—everything was so Titadamned bright. She thought she’d be used to it by now but it felt like she was starting all over.

A familiar voice echoed across the garden…or the field? It was difficult to tell where they were.

“…Yes, at first, I thought that fooling children was a waste of my impressive talents…” Adrian Graye said, pacing around Gus. Why where they so far away? “But I realized that a true genius can find the art in everything he does and—“

Adrian snapped his head, irritated that the little runt wasn’t even paying attention. “Yoo-hoo. Come on. Are you listening? This is my monologue. Now, this— is— your- doing?” he gestured generically around the room.

Chiara tried to move but the coven scout holding her captive restrained her a bit tighter.

Gus looked away, noticing Chiara. “Yeah,” he said looking down, “it’s all my fault.”

“Oh. Right, right, all about you,” Graye replied, waving his hand as if it was nothing. “Now how about telling me how you know about the Looking Glass Graveyard? I've been looking for the Galderstones…They'd make great gifts for the Emperor. Where did you say you found them?”

Chiara blinked. They were still surrounded by one of Gus’ illusions. This was a graveyard?

Gus didn’t answer him and Graye rolled his eyes, leaning down closer him, as if he was about to tease him. It was cruel, the way he was smiling at her new friend. She wish Gus would spit at him.

“See this mirror? It's a handy little magic amplifier.” Graye drew a spell circle with the small mirror he had detached from his ear. “It'll help me sort through those little memories of yours.”

Chiara’s eyes widened at this, and tried to break free from the coven scout’s grasp.

“Hold still!”

“That hurts!” Gus cried, “Please, stop—“

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Graye seethed, standing back, watching their surrounds all of a sudden disappear.

The illusion dispelled and Gus fell to the floor. Chiara cried out his name but another coven scout covered her mouth before she could interrupt any further.

“Hmm...” Adrian pondered. “Well, that's one less thing to worry about. Now, where were we?”

The covenhead cocked his head to get a better look at his prisoner and noticed both of his eyes were glowing blue. They seemed brighter than before. Graye’s eyes widened and stumbled back.

Chiara let out another muffled cry as she saw Gus’ magic bubble around him, almost like a shield—but the covenhead was stuck with him. He looked frightened.

They both did.

--

Chapter Text

Chapter 42 – Echoes

Chiara’s skull felt as if it had fractured; Gus’ memories were now slipping in through the cracks and her own were slipping out. Everything was blurring together.

One moment she was being held down by a coven scout and the next… was she in Gus’ mind? No, that couldn’t be right. There was more to that sort of magic, it couldn’t be accidental.

Could it?

Chiara shook her head, trying to reassure herself. She tried to think but the visions in front of her were distracting.

She saw Gus, a younger Gus, and what looked like another version of herself. No, not herself—these must be Gus’ memories. That was her mother.

Then she did see herself, running away from her parents after her mother scolded her for not paying enough attention to Baz. She couldn’t watch him 24/7, could she?

Suddenly, she saw herself replaced with Gus. He didn’t look afraid but he did look upset. How could you!, he cried at her mother. How could you leave with him? We don’t even know who he really is, he’s not human, not a witch, not even a demon—how could you trust him? Trust him more than your best friend?

Then her father, well, not exactly her father—he resembled her father—appeared, taking her mother’s hand. Chiara felt a ping of pride; he loved her mother, that much she knew, but the pride dissolved immediately as the distorted memory faded into a graveyard, a real graveyard. Piles of golden masks cluttered the earth.

Her mother had faded and she watched the resemblance of her father transform into her own image. Chiara’s heart twisted. Gus’ words repeated across the lawn, echoes bouncing off the tombstones.

Not human, not a witch, not even a demon!

Rustling sounds twitched her ear. She was no longer watching a memory—she was living this illusion now. Rustling had morphed into rumbling and Chiara almost lost her footing as she felt the ground quake beneath her. The closest gravestone to her cracked and then, to her horror, a bony hand shot through the dirt.

Scratch that, not a bony hand—many hands. Bodies were resurrecting left and right and she could feel Gus’ fear hyperventilate into her own lungs—but she, she was one of them. A hand clawed its way by her feet and then clasped around her ankle, sinking its nails into her skin.

Not human,

Chiara felt her legs seeping into mud, her body trapped by whatever this memory or illusion had grown into.

Not a witch,

She was almost completely buried now. It’s true, she knew that much. She was a mess of a being, whatever kind of being that was. It never occurred to her that others would find that repulsive or jarring—her parents’ love was so strong it just didn’t cross her mind.

She didn’t even mind the darkness, she was accustomed to it.

Not even a demon!

There was a chance Gus didn’t find her repulsive, she thought. Maybe he could even grow to like her as much as he liked his mother—although, maybe he liked his mother less now, as much as he missed her. He didn’t miss her mother—he missed Willow, someone who was long gone now. She had changed. She changed into her mother. She fell in love with a grimwalker. Not a human, not a witch, not even a demon. A grimwalker.

“You don’t belong here,” a cool, raspy voice rose above Gus’ wails.

Chiara’s eyes opened. The voice was faint now that her ears caked with mud. It didn’t seem like she needed to hold her breath which calmed her, at least, for the time being. She could see, at least. She had all sorts of blood running through her veins and that gave her the ability to see through the earth. She wasn’t sure if any of her siblings had developed this ability, but she remembered her father being almost alarmed when she first showed him. She didn’t know why.

She blinked, gruffly. She was now lying flat on her back, looking through the mess of mud and grass layered over her body. A large shadow had cast itself over the small figure of Gus, or at least, she thought it was Gus. Now she wasn’t entirely sure. Her vision through earth was never clear—her father assured her that was normal, although, she had the inkling he didn’t know what was normal—for a witch or a grimwalker. She could see outlines and could identify sources of light and the absence of it.

“You don’t belong here,” the voice repeated, and the shadow increased in size, looming over her like a broken lighthouse.

An arm yanked her out of the ground followed by a voice, “Luz, we have to leave!”

The urgent voice belonged to Gus and when he looked at her his face fell and he dropped her hand, causing her to bump back into the gravestone behind her.

“Gus,” she said, trying to return her hand to his. Her throat was hoarse; it didn’t quite feel like her own.

Their eyes locked and what Chiara saw was clear.

Recognition.

Recognition and fear.

--

Before:

“Chiara!” Willow wailed, making her daughter twist her head.

The doors to the gymnasium had busted open and what had fallen through was a fight amongst the students, the emperor’s coven scouts, giant robots… and her family!

A large vine shot across the room, knocking out the scout that had a firm grip on her. He let go immediately and Chiara fell to her knees. She couldn’t even get a chance to answer her mother because Willow had turned back around, fighting the scouts behind them.

She was stunned.

“Gus—” she tried to say, but it felt stuck in her throat. “It’s Gus—”

They were all caught up in battle, even the scouts that were with Graye had abandoned them to join against the fight, but Gus—

Gus looked trapped.

He failed—he had failed on a level he never knew he could get knocked down to. He lost his best friend to a grimwalker—no, he’s a friend too, Willow insisted—but they’re gone… and now? The Boiling Isles was falling apart, fractal by fractal. Everything he knew was a lie—everything everyone knew was a lie. Did anyone know the truth? Did Hunter know the truth? Did he always know? Could he have known?

Flashes of his thoughts were gusting around him leaving him paralyzed. He couldn’t hear anything except his own voice, Luz’s voice, and Belos—oh Titan, what did he do to his friends? They’ve been missing for two weeks and it was all his fault—

“Gus!” a voice echoed, making him rub his eyes. It was a voice that felt familiar but he didn’t recognize. Everything was blurry and he couldn’t see past the memories his magic was bringing to life.

“Make it stop!” Adrian cried, curled up in a fetal position. “I don’t like these memories, please—“

Luz’s eyes widened at the covenhead’s voice.

“It’s Gus!” she yelled, slapping a fire glyph, aiming it at the large purple abomaton about to swipe at her girlfriend.

“I really have to talk to my parents about this,” Amity muttered, using her magic to glue the abomaton’s legs to the floor.

Luz leaped past her to Willow and repeated what she said, pointing to the small student, cowering by the covenhead that was trying to crawl away.

“Mom, look out!” Elowyn shouted, then ducked, watching her sister Eliza fly in front to knock down the scout in front of their mother.

“Go to Chiara, Elowyn—keep Cale safe!”

“Willow—it’s Gus, he—“

“Luz!” Hunter yelled, jumping in front of her, blocking one of the scouts’ attacks with his staff. “We see him, Luz, but we can’t do anything about it yet—we need to finish this fight first.”

Luz staggered a step back. Magic was flying everywhere, everyone was battling against somebody—it’s not like she could put it on pause. Hunter’s firm voice startled her, no, alienated her. How could he just ignore—

A familiar crackling sound formed around her and she was suddenly on the other side of the gym, with Hunter putting her down. Did he just teleport her away from—

“Listen,” Hunter said, getting down on one knee. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. “If you were both in Belos’ in mind, chances of you getting Gus out of his own head is slim—that’s just how manipulative he is. If anyone can do it, it’s Willow—I think you know that.”

Luz really didn’t understand where this was going or what Hunter was trying to do. He said they needed to finish the fight but then he removed her from it. He wants to help Gus but he can’t. What the heck was going on?

“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for her arm. “You looked really out of it – we’ve had to rescue you in the last five minutes like fifteen times—“

“What are you talking about?” she snapped, pulling away from him, “I knocked that sucker over in a heartbeat—“

“Dad’s right, I’ve been watching the whole time and even I’ve had to step in a couple times and I have the baby,” Elowyn deadpanned.

Hunter flinched, not realizing he had teleported Luz right next to his daughter.

“You’re wasting time,” Elowyn continued, waving her father away. “You need to help Mom and Eliza and everybody else. Gus will be okay.”

Hunter looked back, noticing his eldest daughter approaching their old friend. He nodded, then glared at Luz, motioning at her to stay put right before teleporting himself back into the battle by the gymnasium’s doors.

Luz slumped against the wall, exhausted.

“It’s not always bad to be benched on the sidelines, you know,” Elowyn remarked, cooing at her baby brother.

“That sounds like something Willow would say,” Luz responded, watching Willow and Hunter fight with the other students.

“It is,” Elowyn replied. “But usually she’d say it to Eliza, not me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Sometimes,” she said, “when we would play with Baz, Eliza would get too rough or say the wrong thing and make Baz cry.”

Luz swallowed.

How much did Gus know about… about Phillip? About how she met him?

“Sometimes Baz needed to do things alone without Eliza’s or my help, even if it was easier just to do it for him.”

“Are you trying to say we should just let Gus figure it out himself?”

Elowyn blinked.

“I’m talking about Baz, though?”

Luz groaned. She didn’t know what to do.

--

Flashback – Willow and Hunter are with Chiara on a hiking trip (before other huntlow children are born; Chiara is approximately 4 years old)

“I don’t think we’ve ever gone this far out before,” Willow remarked after catching her breath.

It was their first time traveling together as a family. It had been a challenging year in terms of gardening so Hunter suggested they could go foraging. Of course, they’d go foraging nearby, often separately because of Chiara, but there just hadn’t been much they could take and there was only so much Willow’s magic could muster.

They had decided to travel along the riverside upstream since they had never gone much further in that direction. They both had thought about doing so many times, but building their home and taking care of Chiara was always held at a higher priority before they could seriously consider it. Chiara was old enough to take her parents’ warnings a bit more seriously, although Willow still worried about her curiosity overpowering her sense of rationality. Not that four-year-olds had any sense of rationality, but she was still learning common sense.

Because the river water was so extraordinary with its wild magic properties, she had kept their daughter from coming close to it as often as possible. While they traveled upstream, they were a good fifty feet away from the water’s edge at all times and Willow tried to hold Chiara’s hand as often as possible. When she would let go and run ahead, Clover and Flapjack would catch up to her.

“We’ve already camped one night—do you think we should stop here?” asked Hunter.

Willow shook her head. “Chiara is having fun and we’ve packed more than enough for a week or so. We’re on adventure, right?”

“We’re expworers!” Chiara beamed, and then drew a small light spell, blowing on it so it flew ahead of her. She followed the light while her parents’ palismen followed directly behind her.

Both Hunter and Willow laughed, feeling their chests tingle with warmth. It was hard to believe sometimes, but they were parents. Even though they were doing it alone, they were doing it alone together. They were a family and that fact alone was enough to make both of them smile.

Chiara didn’t think much about it, though. This was the only life she ever knew and she loved it. Sometimes she wish she had a friend to play with that was more like her, but she loved playing with Flapjack and Clover. She loved climbing with her mom. She loved riding on her dad’s shoulders.

She especially loved pretending to be explorers with her parents.

Well, they weren’t really pretending, as her dad reminded her. They really were exploring, so that made them real explorers, which was really cool! She got to go with them to places even they’ve never been!

--

(return to before)

Chiara has never been afraid of the dark.

She grew up in a dark forest with darkness that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction – even if the small firefly lilies dimmed she was not shaken.

Everything now, however, was so titdamned bright. Everyone was shouting, fighting, crying—but Gus was alone, trapped in his own magic. She had to save him.

She had to.

Her mother just knocked out the scout that was holding her down, causing her to stumble forward. Her eyes locked onto her new friend and she ran.

--

Chiara shouted his name but he didn’t budge. She needed to step into illusion in order to reach him.

“Gus!” she cried again, taking another step forward. The second her entire body slipped into the swarm of illusions, her balance wavered, almost causing her to trip.

The overwhelming light that flooded her eyes a second ago had vaporized. It was gone—everything was now completely and utterly black.

--

(return to flashback)

“It’s… so beautiful here,” Hunter whispered, almost afraid that if he spoke any louder the lush grounds surrounding them would vanish.

It had taken them two and a half days total, but they arrived at the source.

Well, they assumed it was the source.

There was a small waterfall flowing into a large pond that fed into the river. The waterfall was quite loud but somehow, everything else seemed incredibly still.

It was peaceful.

Well, it was peaceful until Chiara jumped in the pond.

In the split second Willow had sat down on a large rock she shot up, instantly shooting a large root up through water, throwing her daughter out. Hunter had already jumped on his staff, ready to dive in, but Willow was faster. He caught Chiara in his arms, losing some of his balance on the staff, and then tumbled onto the ground, with one of his hands holding her head tightly to his chest.

Willow collapsed, too tired and too shocked to do anything more. Clover nudged her cheek and when she opened her eyes, she saw Chiara running toward her in tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she sobbed, blubbering into Willow’s shoulder.

“I tried not to yell, but I think I scared her—“ Hunter mumbled, feeling guilty, although his voice was still somewhat shaking.

“Sweetpea, you scared us,” Willow said softly, hugging her daughter. “Can Mama take a look at you?”

Chiara nodded into her, rubbing some her snot her mom’s shirt, and then stepped back.

Willow scanned her, not sure what she should be looking for.

“Am I gonna be a tree now?” Chiara sniffled, looking to see if her toes had taken root.

Hunter stifled a smirk, not sure if he should cry or laugh at this point.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Willow said, cupping Chiara’s cheeks. “But should dry you off just in case, okay?”

Chiara nodded aggressively, and then started waving her arms and kicking her legs.

Willow chuckled, and then spun a spell circle that dried up the water. Unfortunately that also dried up her hair, causing it to poof, which made Willow laugh again. It was possible her hair might grow a bit faster after having jumped in the water but she wasn’t sure what else the water would have done. She jumped in the pond—not the river; was the pond the source of the wild magic or did it gain magic as it flowed downstream? They had more to discover here, so long as they were all a little more careful.

“Oh, Titan,” Hunter sighed, slumping down next to his wife. “We made it this far without any issues but then—“

“No buts,” Willow interrupted, resting against his shoulder, “still no issues, you know.”

“Yet,” Hunter replied, and Flapjack transformed back into his usual self, and flying close to Chiara who was now climbing a rock close by.

“I don’t think she’s ever done something that rash before,” he continued. “Were you ever this rambunctious when you were her age?”

A faint smile crept on her face. “I was pretty devious, if you were to ask my parents, at least, until school started.”

“What changed?”

Willow’s eyes drifted toward her daughter, who was now laughing, chasing Flapjack around.

“A lot of things,” she answered, her smile fading.

--

(return to present)

It was as if she was back home—but wasn’t. It was like she was underground and underwater at the same time but she couldn’t see anything.

Gradually, the darkness lifted and through a cloudy mist she could tell she wasn’t in the graveyard anymore; the memory had distorted once again. Around her stood walls that seemed frail—if she touched one, they might all topple.

“Luz?” a faint voice floated to her ears. It was Gus, she was sure of it.

Ahead of him was a silhouette of Luz surrounded by a bunch of golden masks that resembled the face of a barn owl. Some of them were cracked, just like the pile she had seen before.

A giant shadow hovered over her that erupted in a conniving croak.

“Please,” the voice cracked, “do me a kindness, and call me by my real name.”

The shadow stepped forward, revealing an older man’s face that seemed cursed. It kept changing from a younger face to an older face—Chiara was a bit mesmerized by it but when she looked down she immediately recognized Gus’ fear. He looked ready to throw up, just like he did on the stairs.

She looked up again and the nightmarish figure had moved to just inches away from them. It cocked its head, staring at her.

Gus turned around and his eyes widened.

“N-no, Willow—you have to go back—it’s not safe for you here, I can’t protect—“

“So this is the witch who stole my grimwalker?” the figure’s voice echoed in her ears.

Chiara froze.

“Where are they, Augustus?” the voice rasped. “Where’s that half-a-witch and my grimwalker, Augustus?”

Gus tried to crawl toward Chiara but he was shaking. The figure was no longer walking toward her but decided to cower over Gus, whispering louder and louder directly into his ear.

These aren’t memories anymore, she realized, watching the distant figure of Luz vanish. Elowyn was better with illusion magic than she was—there was no way she could just undo Gus’ own illusions, especially not after that covenhead used his stupid amplifying magic earring or whatever it was.

She took a deep breath.

“Gus?” she approached him, kneeling down so he could see her face if he opened his eyes. “Gus, can you hear me?”

His eyes opened, although they were still squinting.

“Chi-chiara?”

The illusion around them faded into something that resembled a bedroom. There were photos tacked on the wall and the bed didn’t look made. Gus sat up, leaning against it.

“What’s… wrong with me?” he said, holding his head in his hands. “I almost got Luz trapped in Belos’ mind and now, with the school—I mean I don’t even know how I did this!”

“It’s not your fault,” Chiara said, sitting next to him. At least, she didn’t think it was. He saved her from getting a sigil, after all.

“And… and Hunter—I mean, your dad—I can’t believe you just saw that,” he said, embarrassed.

“Did Belos… really say that to you?” she asked.

“It’s… hard to explain.”

Chiara crossed her arms over her legs, resting her head in the crook of her elbow. The way the illusion of Belos spat at him about her parents, and the way the illusion of Luz looked horrified… she just didn’t know how it was making her feel. It was giving her a stomachache.

Her father’s reaction to their arrival on the Boiling Isles was now starting to make a lot more sense. It made her heart feel heavy. She reached over to hold one of Gus’ hands.

“They’re here, you know,” she said.

“Willow and Hunter? You found them?”

She laughed in a hollow tone.

“Not exactly.”

She let go of his hand. She wasn’t sure why she was acting fickle in this moment. She meant to rescue Gus but now she didn’t feel quite ready to leave. Chiara didn’t exactly feel like she belonged out there but she didn’t exactly feel like she belonged here either. Did her family even deserve to be here?

They weren’t a normal family of witches—they weren’t normal, period. That much Gus made clear.

Not human, not a witch, not even demon.

What was she, really?

You don’t belong here.

Maybe the dark figure in the graveyard was right.

“I don’t know what’s on your mind but it can’t be any worse than mine,” Gus said, looking up. Illusions began forming, showing a younger Gus and Willow among other witches as well.

“My whole life I was really good at school but I was always the youngest in my grade. I got tricked easily, bullied, let down, you name it.”

Chiara watched the illusions change into different moments of Gus’ life.

“I thought I grew out of it though, I thought I wouldn’t let myself get tricked again—but I did. It keeps happening to me like I can’t escape my one and only flaw—“

“Your one and only flaw?”

Gus laughed this time.

“I just thought, even though I’ve always been pretty smart at magic maybe I’d eventually get smart at people, that I was finally mature, or something—but now you’re telling me my best friend grew up twenty years ahead of me, there’s just no way I can catch up to that! We’re… our relationship… it can never be the same again… can it?”

Chiara pondered that for a moment. It was hard for her to relate since the only people she had been around was her family—Gus was the first witch she had spoken to that was around her age.

“Just because it might never be the same…” she started saying, and blinked, noticing some of the illusion was starting to fade. “That doesn’t mean it’s going to be bad. And maybe you do get easily tricked sometimes—but that’s not bad either, I think.”

“Why do you say that?”

“My brother, Bazilicus, you remind me of him a little bit,” she said. “He’d get tricked by my sisters a lot, even me sometimes I’ll admit, but he’s the nicest out of all of us, you know? If I had to pick someone for a ‘Best Friend To Rely On’ award, it’d go to him.”

“Really?”

Chiara jumped and then turned around. Baz was standing behind her.

“How—how long were you standing there, you—“

“You dummy,” Eliza shouted, running up to them. “How come you went ahead when Mom said we have to stick together, huh?”

Gus turned his head and saw two more young faces coming toward them, not sure how to respond. At least his illusions were gone, now—he didn’t even notice that they had disappeared.

“Mom is going to kill you,” Elowyn said with a slight smirk, and then handed Cale to her older sister. “We’re glad you’re okay though.”

Tears began to well in her eyes as Chiara’s siblings swarmed her in a big hug. Gus was still watching from the floor, a bit in awe. Their palismen were fluttering about them, including Flapjack, he noticed, and then—

A fuzzy Clover was rubbing against his cheek.

He looked up.

Luz and Amity had started running toward him but they stopped.

A Willow and Hunter were standing before him.

Was it really them?

Hunter was taller than he remembered him and the dark circles under his eyes creased with wrinkles when he attempted to smile. He still had the gap between his two front teeth.

The woman standing next to him had glasses, just like Willow had, although they were smeared with abomination goo. She was perhaps a little taller than he expected, but not by much. Her hands were rough and clearly calloused.

When he finally met her eyes, Willow wobbled toward him and fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could.

Gus trembled slightly, unsure of what he was feeling. He blinked back a few tears when he looked up again, seeing Luz give him a nervous smile. Tentatively, he returned Willow’s hug with his arms around her. She hugged him tighter.

Gus sobbed.

Hawkthorne returned to Chiara’s shoulder when her eyes locked with her father’s. She swallowed. Flapjack was on his shoulder, obviously tattling about everything she did. She glanced at her mom and Gus, wishing for a moment that she was hugged first, but before she turned back she was wrapped in Hunter’s arms.

“Please, please never go off on your own again,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.

“Do we belong here?” she asked, feeling her father’s body freeze as she said it. “I mean, is Mom going to kill me?”

Hunter released his embrace and his hands cradled her face.

“I think you know just how worried we were the moment we realized you were gone,” he said firmly but his eyes softened. “The trouble you got into was punishment enough.”

His hands moved to pick up her wrists so he could examine them.

She flinched.

His mouth twitched, noticing the hand-shape-like bruise that Adrian Graye imprinted where she almost received a sigil.

“Dad?”

He looked past her, catching the eye of one the coven scouts helping Graye up to his feet. She dropped him immediately but another scout helped him back up. He was in bad shape; that much was clear.

Killing him could wait, he decided. There were more pressing matters at hand.

“Chiara,” Willow called out, finally letting go of Gus, who also looked back at her.

“I’m sorry,” Chiara said, a little afraid of looking her mother in the eye.

“No, I’m sorry,” Gus said, making her look up. “I… a lot of this was my fault and…I know I said some things that probably hurt you. I didn’t mean them.”

Chiara finally met her mother’s eyes and was surprised by her mix of curiosity and confusion. She looked hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Chiara said again, not wanting to think about Gus’ apology, and jumped into Willow’s arms.

Gus stood beside them, unsure how to take in all of the children that were staring him. Children that held the clear resemblance of their parents.

“Chiara explained a lot to me,” he started, “I-I know Belos forced you to run away and that you couldn’t come back—but-but—“

“Gus,” Hunter said, kneeling down and taking one his hands. Gus noticed one of his gloves was torn. “Thank you for saving our daughter.”

Elowyn eyed her sister; Eliza was ready to pounce on Gus but her twin held her back.

Chiara flushed. Didn’t she just save him?

“But I am sorry, too,” Hunter continued. “Not a day went by that we didn’t regret leaving without saying goodbye.”

Gus’ eyes were less watery now but they still felt hot.

“A lot of things happened,” Willow said, taking her eldest daughter’s hand after noticing her flush. “We tried to find a way back for a long time.”

This was just too much to absorb. There was too much going on. Belos. The Day of Unity. Oh Titian—

Gus’ shot his glance back to Hunter—at his wrist, and then his face.

“Belos is still looking for you,” he said. “He knows Luz and I know—we, we were—“

Hunter nodded grimly.

Another voice cleared their throat, interrupting the reunion.

“Gus is right,” Principal Bump said, with students following behind him. “As touching as this is, we are losing time to focus on more pressing priorities.”

In other words, Hunter thought, he needed to start explaining. Explaining everything.

The students looked at him expectantly but he could tell a few were itching to start asking questions. Viney had taken Cale, cooing over him. Skara approached Chiara, introducing herself. Eliza had started babbling about what they had gone through to find them to Gus. Willow had found Amity, taking her hand so she could better introduce her family, one by one. Luz joined Eliza and Gus.

Elowyn was looking at her dad, who wasn’t looking at the crowd of students anymore. Behind them was the defeated group of coven scouts carrying their broken leader out the front doors of the school.

If she could describe her father’s gaze in that moment with one word it would be ‘calculating’.

She took his hand, breaking him away from his stare, but she wasn’t looking at him.

“If you have questions you can ask them one at a time,” she commanded to the crowd of students. “One at a time!” she repeated.

Hunter restrained a laugh.

Thank Titan they were all together again.

--