Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’m glad you got that shield up early, Dell,” Gwendolyn murmured as she peered out the large window overlooking her front lawn, her hand drawing the thick velvet curtains she used to the side as she did. “It seems the boiling rain has begun.”

“I’ll be damned,” Dell shook his head, looking up from where he’d been reading a book beside the fireplace as the drops of hot rain began plunking against the magic forcefield he’d erected earlier that evening. “That Oracle Coven gets less and less accurate with each precipitation.”

“I’ll say,” Gwendolyn agreed, releasing the curtain and returning to where she’d been tinkering with a net she was building at the large, farm-style wooden table Dell’s late father had carved many decades earlier. 

“You two have always had far too unrealistic expectations for the Oracles,” Lilith walked into the dimly lit room, enjoying the incandescent warmth the lit fireplace offered her pale skin. She padded over to the couch and plopped into it, crossing her legs and leaning against the armrest. The witch had planned to go to Edalyn’s that evening but had to take a boiling rain check given the circumstances. “You both know the ones who produce the evening newscast are low on the ladder. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

“I didn’t realize how much of a benefit it had been having a connection to the Emperor’s Oracles until you came home,” Gwendolyn tutted from the kitchen. Lilith rolled her eyes, folding her arms as she repressed the memories mentions of the Emperor surfaced. “I am used to receiving a proper head’s up from you.”

Dell, now watching his daughter from his chair, offered her a meek smile and she returned the gesture. 

The parents were both dressed in their typical evening attire, which was made up of older cotton clothing items they could sleep in. Lilith, however, was still dressed in a dark, charcoal-colored sweater with a long black skirt, black tights, and black boots. Her hair fell down her shoulders in long, navy ringlets, and her round, black glasses were perched on the bridge of her slender nose. Had the rain started an hour later, as was predicted, she would have made it to Edalyn’s and stayed overnight. Instead, she couldn’t help but feel a bit trapped in the house with her parents. Despite knowing she was not going out any time soon, she refused to admit it and change into something more casual. 

During the brief moment Dell and Lilith shared, watching each other fondly from across the room, Dell felt as though it was the poofy-haired ginger girl he often missed  seated across from him. Though he knew she was technically the same witch, he found himself missing her innocence and more gentle demeanor anyway. The Lilith who came home from the Emperor’s Coven was not the same one he had sent off so many decades before. In place of the goofy, awkward teenage witchling sat an often impassive, regal fully-grown witch. The mask had begun to crack over time. He caught the way her lips would turn up at the corners when she regaled stories of time travel with Luz, Edalyn’s apprentice, and the way she’d become giddy after her interview with the local museum. Despite continuing to color her hair a raven’s feather navy blue, she was allowing her natural curl to reappear and donned her glasses as a daily accessory.

For Lilith, had been strange after she returned to living with her parents in her childhood home. It had been decades since she had stepped foot under the roof, no less spent so much time with its owners. While they were generally attentive, loving, and supportive, there was still a certain amount of tension amongst them. Her parents, for her entire life, had never understood her decisions. They didn’t understand her steadfast desire to rise to the top of the Emperor’s Coven and didn’t understand her decision to leave. She was grateful for their steadfast kindness and open arms, but their uncertainty surrounding her lifestyle didn’t go unnoticed.

When they learned their older daughter had turned their younger daughter over to the Emperor, who then sentenced her to petrification, neither parent could wrap their minds around the situation. Then, when watching the horrible event unfold on the crystal ball, they watched as both witches made a break for it together. Gwendolyn assumed this meant things were better between her daughters than she initially understood. Afterward, she learned she was wrong when word reached the parents that Lilith had been the one to curse Eda. Now, with Lilith coming and going between their homes, they still hadn’t quite made sense of the situation. Were Lilith and Eda okay with each other? What were they missing? The questions often kept Gwendolyn up at night. Above all else, she wanted both of her girls to be safe and well.

While Gwendolyn wanted to press for more information, she was accepting her husband’s advice not to. He noted that Lilith continued to appear more closed off than she’d been as a girl and that if she wanted to talk, she would. It was also clear that she and Eda were working things out between themselves and that, after everything that happened the day Lilith came home, meddling would not help. So, she attempted to keep her distance.

Still, the questions constantly nipped at the tip of her tongue. Each time her daughter seemed to switch from a tangent about the misinterpretation of a historical event, or the misrepresentation of a historical artifact, before rapidly closing off and folding into herself, Gwendolyn resisted the urge to pry. Each time her daughter stepped out of the way to avoid physical contact that had been welcome only a few hours before, sometimes going as far as to flinch or become combative, Gwendolyn resisted the urge to pry. It was clear to her that Lilith, despite insisting she had forgiven her for blatantly prioritizing Eda over the years, was still hurting in some way.

Lilith felt pressure to explain herself, and, being used to vulnerability being used against her, instinctually leaned into familiar tactics of her time in the Emperor’s Coven. She often adorned herself with folded arms, a straight back, squared shoulders, and a well-trained poker face. On one hand, she somewhat longed for an opportunity to simply tell someone the details of her haunting experiences working for the Emperor. On the other, she knew the information was incredibly heavy to carry and that she was still struggling to process it herself. The only person she had somewhat begun to open up to was her sister. Even then, she made an effort to keep things surface-level for Eda’s sake. She wanted to let her parents in, but she worried about how they would handle knowing the darkness that billowed beneath the surface of their beloved Emperor.

“What are you reading, Father?” Lilith inquired, happy to change the subject.

“Oh, just a memoir that was written by an explorer who traveled into the ribs shortly after the Savage Ages came to an end,” he looked almost sheepish at the revelation, his hands shaking as he gripped the hardback book.

“Ah,” Lilith nodded, smiling. While her father had gone on many trips throughout the Isles to replenish the growth of palistrom wood, he had never been one to focus on the history behind the land. The witch was aware he was making an attempt to get to know her through her interests and the realization heartened her. “Philomena Nash is quite famous for her work along the coast as well. Have you read the biography written by Hildebald Sallow?”

“I haven’t yet,” he shook his head, pleased Lilith was familiar with the explorer. “I will add it to my list before I visit the library again if you make note of it.”

“I will be sure to do that,” Lilith nodded curtly.

The sound of pounding on the front door caused the Clawthorne family to startle in their cozy places. Lilith blinked rapidly, wondering who on the Isles would be out traveling in this climate. Gwendolyn watched as her husband turned to look over his shoulder, narrowed eyes locked on the old wooden door. The silence between them was thick with uncertainty. Inciting a second jump from them, more knocking followed the silence. Dell and Lilith stood at the same time. He attempted to step ahead of her, but his daughter was young and fit. She rapidly stepped around him and summoned her staff, listening closely as the pounding stopped again.

“I can get that,” Dell gruffed and she shook her head before gripping her staff tightly and turning the handle. “You should back up.”

When Lilith swung the door open, already in a combative stance, she was surprised to see nothing standing before her. Her brow furrowed, two heterochromic eyes scanning the darkening treeline for the imposer. Just as she parted her black-painted lips to call out, her eyes flickered down quickly enough to notice the figure lying on the ground. Despite being drenched, it was instantly recognizable. Lilith bounced backward, for just a moment, before returning to her typical rim-rod posture.

“You,” she hissed, pointing a finger at the body on the ground. “What are you doing here?”

Dell was at her side in an instant, two large hands on her shoulders. She shrugged him off, crouching down to poke the child in the head with a long, pale finger. When he didn’t move, her frown deepened. She recognized the wet, tussled blond hair and lanky limbs to be that of the Emperor’s Golden Guard, Hunter, and the last thing she expected was for him to literally lie down and give up on her doorstep. It was unlike him to not run in, staff blazing, even in the most friendly circumstances. She poked again, ignoring the confused grunt of her father behind her.

“Yoohoo,” she spoke again. “Golden Brat. You in there?”

“You know this boy?” Dell finally asked, tiredly rubbing his face with his shaking hand.

“Yes,” Lilith sighed, propping her staff against the wall before stepping out to turn the child over onto his back. He was heavier than usual from the water soaking his uniform.

With his face exposed, Lilith could see something was horribly wrong. The boy, who was sixteen, was unconscious. The paler than usual skin of his face was spattered with burns from the rainfall, but that was the least of her concern. A large gash stretched across his forehead and into his hairline, where his blood colored the blond hair a garish red. There was another large red spot that appeared to be growing on his side, under his white cape. Lilith swallowed the lump in her throat, ignoring the way her heart now thumped erratically in her chest.

What on Titan’s smoggy Isles is he doing here? What happened? Lilith thought to herself as she began moving his shirt to inspect the gash on his side.

She wasn’t surprised to find bruising of varying degrees spreading across his stomach and chest, but that didn’t stop her insides from twisting into a knot. The wound was fresh and rather large, clearly needing intense medical intervention. Lilith took a deep breath, stifling the panic that was clawing its way up her throat. Not only was she depleted of most of her magic, but neither of her parents were members of the healing coven. Now was not the appropriate time to freak out, however. She had to get him inside, do what she could to treat his injuries, and find out what the hell he was doing at her home. Not wasting another second, Lilith hoisted the teenager into her arms and backed into the home, nearly running into Dell in the process. Hunter was heavier than the last time she’d seen him, likely having gone through a few growth spurts.

“Clear the table, Mother,” she instructed, in full Head Covenness mode as she approached with the child in her arms.

“Who is this?” Gwendolyn did as she was instructed, her wide eyes locked on the child in her daughter’s arms. It was clear he was unwell, but she didn’t recognize him as one of Eda’s tagalongs.

“I need an antiseptic, gauze, thread, any needles you have, and medical tape. You’ll want a hamper and a trash bin as well,” Lilith ordered, ignoring her mother’s questioning as she began tearing into the Golden Guard’s shirt. She inspected his legs for further injury, relieved to see that the two wounds and bruising seemed to be the extent of it. Her eyes landed on her mother and father, who stood frozen before her. “Now. He doesn’t have time for you to stand around!”

Lilith ran to the hall closet to retrieve a few towels. She first rolled one up and made her way to the top of the table to place it under his neck, attempting to stabilize it. He moaned and she felt her heart twist. His eyes were still shut, but it was entirely possible he could hear her.

“Golden Guard,” she spoke in her best Head Covenness voice, expecting it to be the most likely to receive a response from the child. Despite being far too young, he was a soldier first and was well-trained to respond to a commanding voice. “I need you to stay awake. Do you hear me? I need you to open your eyes and look at me!”

When the child did not respond, she sighed and began packing the towels around his larger wound, holding them as tightly as she could to the gash. Gwendolyn and Dell returned, placing the requested supplies around the table then. Lilith instructed her mother to hold the towel in place while she ran to properly wash her hands. As long as they didn’t have access to a proper healer, she would need to be extra careful none of his wounds got infected. She returned to hear him groaning again, gratitude rushing through her system. She never thought she’d be so grateful to hear the Golden Guard’s voice, of all people.

“Hunter,” she tried again, using the same tone but hoping his name may reach him. “Hunter, I need you to listen to me. This is going to hurt, but I don’t have any other choice. You have to stay awake, okay? You have to stay awake. I don’t care if you have to scream, okay? Just stay. Awake.”

“What can we do?” Dell asked then, swallowing as he watched his daughter begin to wipe away the excess blood around the boy’s head wound before pressing several gauzes into it.

“You two will have to hold him still,” she sighed as she began threading the longer, hooked needle her mother brought. “This is going to hurt like hell and I have a feeling he’s going to try to get away from me when I get in there.”

“Shouldn’t we try to take him to a healer?” Gwendolyn’s face was pale, her green eyes locked with her daughter’s. She was frightened.

“No,” Lilith shook her head, now moving to soak a cloth with the antiseptic. She was grateful for her parents' desire for seclusion, seeing as neighbors likely wouldn’t take the child’s screaming well. They couldn’t afford for anyone to know Hunter was in their home, given the Emperor was likely sending scouts for him. “He cannot see a healer. I’m not sure who knows he is here, but it cannot be known he is with me. Besides, I have a feeling I know who did this, and…he can’t go to a healer.”

“Who did this? I don’t understand,” Gwendolyn stammered and Lilith shook her head.

“I can’t talk about this right now, Mother,” she snapped, closing her eyes tightly and breathing in swiftly. When she released the breath, she was back in Head Covenness mode. “Hold him down.”

Gwendolyn and Dell did as they were told, unable to function on their own in a frozen state. Lilith soaked the clean rag her mother brought with the antiseptic, resisting a sympathetic wince as she pressed it to the wound on Hunter’s side. As she expected, the previously silent child let out a painful scream and attempted to pull away from the parents at his side. While startled for a moment, they tightened their grasp and held him down more firmly. Lilith continued to clean the wound, feeling unfortunately familiar with the burning and stinging the harsh antiseptic would produce for the recipient. The parents both bit their tongues watching their daughter engage in the task with a stony expression they’d never witnessed. Hearing him scream, she felt acutely aware of the fact that he was not much older than her niece, Luz, and the thought caused further churning in her stomach.

“Hunter, I know you can hear me now,” she shouted over his screams, her voice steadier than it should have been. “I know it hurts. I do. You have to hang on. I am going to suture this and the wound on your head. I know it hurts. Screaming is okay, but I need you to hold as still as possible. I don’t want to make it worse.”

The child continued to thrash as she picked up the needle and began pinching the skin together. The parents both tried to look away, unable to fully tolerate the amount of gore before them. Lilith, used to field medicine, was working in swift and steady movements. She had sutured up far worse wounds in far harsher circumstances during her time in the coven. Her eyes flickered up to the scar on his cheek, and for a moment, she reflected on the single time she had been in similar circumstances with a child.

“Time after time I have asked that you knock before entering my office,” Lilith didn’t look up from the packet of paperwork in her hands, her free hand twirling her pen as she sat behind her large, wooden desk in her office.

When the intruder didn’t speak, she sighed and closed her eyes, forcing a slow, deep breath into her lungs. After a long day of meetings with the other Coven Heads, Warden Wrath, and the Emperor himself, Lilith’s patience was paper-thin. Despite working for and with the greatest witches and demons of the Isles, it often felt as though she was walking on eggshells around insolent witchlings all day long. She opened her eyes, resigning to place the pen and paper on her desk before clasping her hands together and facing the other witch.

Her heart momentarily leaped into her throat when she realized it was the youngest member of the Emperor’s Coven, the Emperor’s nephew, Hunter, and not Kikimora or another nuisance before her. While Lilith had not had the opportunity to interact with the seven-year-old witchling often, she was well aware of his presence in her ranks. Despite being over a decade younger than her youngest scouts, he began his training directly under the Emperor that fall and was deemed a child prodigy. She was skeptical but did her best to sweep all thoughts of him from her mind. It was clear to her, seeing as she was the most previous prodigy to walk the halls of the castle, that he would likely succeed her. She didn’t have the time or energy for the anxiety this evoked and instead dedicated herself to proving herself indispensable.

Now, with the child standing before her, all feelings of jealousy were replaced by concern and fear. He was injured, a large gash in his cheek gushing blood onto his white scout’s clothing. The memory of sending his measurements to Kikimora, as his uniform was specially designed and sewn for his child-size body, tugged at her heart. His magenta eyes looked at her through a veil of thick tears, which fell haphazardly down his flushed cheeks. He was frozen, completely unmoving, in her doorway. She may have been aggravated by the development of her likely successor, but she was not made of stone.

“Hunter?” She asked, her voice softening. The older witch shook her head, kicking herself into action and rising from her seat. “What happened?”

“It won’t stop bleeding and I can’t go to the infirmary,” his shaky, childlike voice shattered the already-feeble illusion that he was old enough for this field. She didn’t miss the slight sibilation the gap in his front teeth created when he spoke and had to ignore the jabs of endearment she felt. He moved his gloved hand to his cheek then, pulling it back to look at the blood with widening eyes.

“Who told you not to go to the infirmary?” She questioned, walking to him in quick strides and kneeling before him. “What happened?”

He glanced over his shoulder, out into the hallway, before looking back at her with a trembling, bloodied lip. She gazed into his eyes, gently pulling his small, gloved hand from his cheek to reveal the large gash to her again. It was rather deep and she was certain it needed attention. Her mind was spinning, trying to understand why the Emperor’s nephew, of all the witches in this coven, would avoid the infirmary. It was common knowledge that the other scouts should avoid it, seeing as any injury was recorded as a sign of weakness, but this was Hunter.

“I don’t understand,” Lilith continued. “Who told you not to go to the infirmary, Hunter?”

“Steve said you can suture better than anyone here,” he ignored her questions and her eyes narrowed.

Steve would not have sent him to her unless it was true that he could not see the healers. The Emperor kept close tabs on all magic use on the castle and would know if anyone used healing magic. If he didn’t want someone healed from something, which was, much to Lilith’s dismay, a regular occurrence, they were often left to heal in more traditional ways. Field medicine was naturally one of the first things the scouts were forced to teach each other as a result of this. While she was used to all of this, she couldn’t fathom why the Emperor wouldn’t want someone to help his own nephew.

 Lilith hastily pulled the boy into her office, closing the door behind him and leading him to one of the chairs across from her desk. She pulled his small cloak from his shoulders and placed it in his hands, instructing him to press it to the wound while she retrieved supplies. He did as instructed, tears still falling down his cheeks, and waited patiently. It was beyond her how a child so young could be so calm in such circumstances, but she didn’t allow her mind to dwell on the matter.

The witch returned with an aid kit and began placing supplies on the small table beside the child. He watched with a curious expression, his jaw tight under the pressure of the wound. Lilith eyed him carefully as she soaked a cloth in an antiseptic, wondering how well the child would be able to tolerate what would be an unfathomable amount of pain. She greatly wished she could cast a pain-relieving spell as she met his watery magenta eyes. Not sure if the Emperor would be able to sense it, she decided to try a less common spell. This one would be considered wild magic, and likely wasn’t one the Emperor kept feelers out for. With everything in place, she turned to face Hunter.

“Does it hurt?” Her voice was far softer now. The child nodded. “I am going to try to relieve some of the pain. I’m not certain I can relieve all of it. Healing was never my strong suit, I admit.”

“You’re good at everything,” the child rolled his eyes and she couldn’t resist the way the corner of her lips tugged upward. 

“And don’t ever forget it,” she winked before allowing all feelings of humor to slip away. She had to be careful and take this seriously.

Lilith closed her eyes and focused her intentions to the best of her ability. After drawing a small spell circle with her forefinger, she allowed the cool, relieving energy to linger in her palm for a moment. Now certain it was the correct concoction, she had him move his hand away and hovered her’s over his cheek. His eyes watched hers, which were narrowed and focused, as he waited for some of the pain to subside. Much to his surprise, the deep pulsing sensation dissipated entirely. It would have been as if nothing had ever happened if he couldn’t still feel the warm liquid seeping onto his neck.

“Okay, better?” Lilith asked, already aware of the way his facial expression seemed to relax. He nodded again. Relief.

Despite her best efforts, the boy still let out cries of pain when she pressed the sanitized cloth to the wound a moment later. The new pain, unfortunately, was more than the spell could suppress. She could tell, by the fact that he was able to tolerate it at all, that it was still better than if she hadn’t tried. Her heart tugged violently with each cry and whimper, but she remained focused on her work. She knew better than to allow her emotions to distract her during a true emergency.

When she began suturing the wound, the boy let out much louder screams. She encouraged him, her warm voice almost cooing praises for his bravery. She had to work with one hand, her other bouncing back and forth between holding the boy still by his shoulder and holding his chin in place. His jaw was so tense she struggled to get a proper stitch. It was clear this one was going to leave a rather rough scar, despite her experience. The process, thankfully, didn’t take long, seeing as his face was still rather small and he had very low body fat. For that, she was grateful.

Once done, the shouting stopped and she cleaned the wound again before placing gauze over it. She cast another pain relieving spell but found herself struggling to complete it. Her mind was split in too many directions. His cries continued to pierce through her, and she began acting without thinking. Doing something she hadn’t done since childhood, she placed her hands on the side of his head and pressed her forehead to his.

“With this spell declared,” she whispered. “Let the pain be shared.”

“Wha-?” He began but let out a sigh when the pain was instantly relieved, feeling less than half as sharp.

Lilith ignored the way a sharp pain pulsated in her cheek, an errant hand reaching up to touch the thick scar that formed on her skin. She could cast another spell to diminish it once she calmed down. For now, she was simply relieved to see the child in a less distressed state. To her surprise, he leaped out of his seat and wrapped his arms around her waist, his uninjured cheek pressing to her belly. She returned the hug, her arms stiff, and her mind reeling.

“Thank you, Head Covenness,” he hiccuped.

“Any time, dear,” her cheeks flushed. After a moment of holding him close, she placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him backward. He looked up to meet her eyes, not fully severing the contact. “Hunter, I need you to tell me what happened to you. Who did this to you?”

“I can’t tell you,” he whispered back. “I can’t.”

“Hunter.”

“It wa-” the child hissed, folding over. Lilith then noticed the bright spell circle wrapping his wrist. He had been sworn, under everlasting oath, to not speak of what happened. The hue was bright red, which was all she needed to see to know who had done it. She swallowed the new lump in her throat, closing her eyes again to refocus.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she sighed, opening her eyes to look at him again. “I already know.”

“You do?”

“Yes,” she spoke curtly. “I am sorry. I am terribly sorry, Hunter.”

Lilith had been more than disenchanted the first time she faced one of the Emperor’s harsh punishments. She was not even twenty and had made her first mistake on a rather high-stakes mission. The accident likely would have gone unnoticed if she wasn’t already being watched very closely by the Emperor, who was interested in promoting her to captain early. When he called her into the throne room that day, she had expected him to give her a stern talking-to. Instead, she left with a rather serious burn to her shoulder and an entire tier removed from her self-esteem. Nothing in the coven was as she once expected.

She was old enough to vow to better herself, however. She was on track to become the youngest Coven Head of all time and was not going to let a small mistake, or the Emperor’s disapproval, stop her. Each punishment she faced, often for petty mistakes, served as a reminder of just how much harder she needed to work. With time, her skin thickened in both the literal and metaphorical sense. Given the unsavory circumstances being the Head of the Emperor’s Coven often centered her in, this was a good thing.

However, now, looking at this very small child, Lilith couldn’t justify his actions. For the first time in over a decade, she found herself questioning the Emperor . How could anyone harm a small child like this? What could Hunter have possibly done to deserve this treatment? How could the Emperor possibly prohibit him from seeking medical attention? Despite the many questions swirling haphazardly in her brain, Lilith committed to keeping them to herself. None of this was helpful to Hunter, who needed her at that moment.

The Emperor hadn’t taken kindly to Lilith helping Hunter after recognizing her handiwork and the remnants of wilde magic. While she hadn’t been in close contact with the child after the incident, she was certain he faced punishment for turning to her. She certainly faced harsh punishment for helping him. In the present day, Lilith shivered at the memory before shaking her head and continuing to swiftly move the needle in and out through his skin. With no ability to numb his pain, she was positive he was in sensory overload. All she hoped was for him to not allow the shock to overcome him. She still needed to inspect him for a head injury, seeing as he had clearly experienced some form of trauma to his skull. With that thought, she refocused herself and sped up her movements.

“Good job,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “Let it out, Hunter. You’re doing well, soldier.”

Gwendolyn looked up at her husband, their eyes locking at the word soldier. They both knew their daughter had been the Head of the Emperor’s Coven. They were aware this was a military role that required her to train and lead soldiers of all ranks and positions. Neither parent had allowed themselves to linger on this information, the thought of losing her too unbearable to sit with for more than a few moments. However, hearing her speak in such a commanding tone, and understanding she knew the child soldier on their table, was almost too much to bear. Dell nodded knowingly before refocusing on holding the child still.

Once Lilith finished suturing the large wound, she moved to the top of the table and immediately began working on the smaller one. Hunter continued to thrash about, but his movements were slowing. She could tell he was overwhelmed and tired, and understood his body was already likely working tirelessly to replenish the lost blood. He was visibly paler than usual and it wasn’t as if she could give him a transfusion. When she began working through the stitches in his head, she was reminded of the last time she had to do this. One hand worked to steady his skull, the other stitched.

As she cut the thread with a sharp nail, she felt the wind leave her lungs. Her legs, were now shaky as the adrenaline in her system became exhausted. She dropped to her knees, the thud against the wooden floor going unnoticed, and continued to grip the table above her with white knuckles. Her parents watched, uncertain of what to do, as she allowed her head to hang for a moment.

Lilith gave herself a moment to collect herself, the wave of unpleasant memories shortly overpowering her. So many times she’d been forced to stitch up scouts, captains, and members of the guard. Living in the castle, and going out on raids, Lilith was in a constant state of fight or flight. She never had time to slow down and consider what she had just witnessed and experienced. Now, however, in her parent’s kitchen, with a familiar child on their table, it felt impossible to suppress the feelings of fear, grief, and distress that swelled in her chest.

“Lily? What do you need?” Dell asked, dutifully not abandoning his position.

Lilith pushed herself up then, breathing as evenly as she could muster, and looked down at her bloodied hand with pursed lips. The sticky sensation of it drying against her skin, alongside its metallic smell, caused her stomach to churn. She took another deep breath before making her way to the sink to rinse it off. Once the remainder of the blood ran down the drain, she dried her hands and returned to the table to begin cleaning Hunter’s wounds with another towel. She couldn’t find the words to answer her father.

“Lily?” Dell spoke again.

“You don’t need to hold him like that,” her voice was shaky as she eyed her parents’ harsh grips on the child’s arms. “He will be okay. I believe he passed out from shock, but he should be awake in a bit. Until then, we can focus on cleaning. I will need to use a light glyph to inspect his pupils and ensure he is not concussed.”

“Sweet Flea…” Gwendolyn began but trailed off, her hands pulling away from the child’s now limp arm. “Are you sure?”

“That is an order,” Lilith spoke firmly before visibly wincing. She hadn’t intended to respond with that. However, being trapped in the headspace she was in, it was hard not to speak from old habits. “I’m sorry, Mother. I…I cannot talk right now. I need to focus.”

Gwendolyn nodded and focused on cleaning the child and the table with even more washcloths, a pile building up in the hamper she brought to the table. Lilith did as she said she would and checked his eyes and inspected his scalp. She was relieved to see no signs of a concussion but made a mental note to keep an eye on him. Dell left the room for a moment, only to return with a change of clothes for the child. He still had various items from his years as a teenager. A concert t-shirt and pajama pants would have to do for the evening. Lilith thanked both of them as they worked together to redress the child, tossing his clothes into the hamper for Gwendolyn to wash.

Once he was totally redressed and clean, Lilith scooped the child up and carried him to the living room to place him on the couch, her biceps and shoulders screaming in protest. She carefully placed his head on a pillow and draped a blanket over his long, lanky frame. Gwendolyn and Dell followed her, wordlessly watching as she ensured the child was safe and comfortable. Once Lilith was done, Gwendolyn offered to stay with him while Lilith washed up and changed.

Lilith, not wanting Hunter to wake up with two strangers, was very quick to rinse off, dry her hair, and change into something more comfortable. She opted for one of Edalyn’s old crewneck sweatshirts, black leggings, and black socks. The witch quickly pulled her hair into a low, messy bun and put her glasses back onto her face before jogging back down the stairs. 

With time to slow down and think, Lilith felt her mind search itself for answers. It was most likely the Emperor had done this, but she had no way of knowing for sure until Hunter woke up. Regardless of who did it, Lilith couldn’t help but wonder if they were out there looking for him. With the heavy downpour of boiling rain, they would likely be slowed, at the very least. With Hunter being so high profile, that didn’t guarantee they wouldn’t still be out looking anyway. Emperor Belos did not play around when it came to his Coven Heads, Lilith knew that from experience.

When she reached the living room, she found her father reading his book and her mother sitting in the chair to his right. Her green eyes were locked on the child, watching him like a hawk. For a moment, Lilith understood why her mother had a hawk for a palisman. With a solemn expression, she entered the space and knelt beside the couch, placing her hand on Hunter’s cheek. 

“Hunter? I need you to try to wake up for me,” she spoke softly this time, her eyes searching his face for any sign of movement. “I know you’re in pain, but I need to know what is going on. I need to know if they’re going to come here.”

The child stirred then, his face scrunching up in a grimace. Lilith resisted the instinct to pull her hand away. She told herself the form of contact was an attempt to comfort and ground him, but she knew it was mostly for herself. He coughed a bit before opening his eyes. Familiar magenta irises landed on Lilith for a moment, before continuing to roll around in a daze. He wasn’t focused, but he was waking. She sank a bit lower, relief flooding her body.

“Very good, Hunter,” she nodded. “That’s it. I’m here.”

“P-” he began but his voice cracked. “P-”

“What is it?” Her brow pinched together as she waited in earnest for him to speak. “Tell me, Hunter. What is it?”

“Pri-,” he coughed and she nodded again, waiting. “Prissy Lily, did you save me?”

“Agh!” She shouted then, lightly slapping his upper arm before crossing hers in irritation. “Golden Brat!”

“Ha! You should…you shoulda seen the look on your face!” He smirked lazily, his eyes still glassy.

“You scared the hell out of me,” she rolled her eyes at the admission. The witch didn’t have it in her to keep her old walls up after the ordeal. Her arms dropped to her side. “My sincerest apologies for being surprised to find my successor nearly dead on my doorstep during a boiling rain!”

“Do you…do you care about me?” Hunter asked her, a smirk continuing to pull at the corner of his chapped lips, and she groaned.

“Hunter, I don’t have time for this,” she shook her head at him. “I need you to tell me what is going on. Are they coming here?”

“Psh,” he flipped his hand weakly, his eyes drifting shut. The throbbing in his skull was relieved by the darkness. “You’re the last person Kikimora would expect me to turn to. That’s why I came here.”

“Here I thought it might be to relive the good old days,” Lilith muttered sardonically. “Kiki did this?”

“Nah,” he laughed, his eyes darkening when they flickered open again. His brow was low now, no longer playful. He lifted a lip wrist, eyeing it with disdain. “Let’s just say …I can’t tell you.”

“I figured as much,” she shook her head. “Hunter…you don’t have to live like this. He very well could have killed you! I don’t feel good about you returning.”

“It’ll be a r-relief for you to hear that I won’t be returning then, huh?” He smirked but she could see that the expression didn’t reach his eyes this time. Eda had told her of his freak-out the evening before. He hadn’t wanted to return home this time, but evidently felt there was nowhere to turn.

“What happened, Hunter?” She asked again, not enabling his need to turn everything into a joke.

“Let’s just say…he wanted to…you know,” he shrugged, remembering the masks of the guards who came before him. “I got away. I’m not going back. I can’t. He’ll just succeed.”

Lilith took in a sharp breath, the pain in her chest returning as her eyes lingered on the child’s face. For a moment, it was the seven-year-old boy she once knew laying on the couch. She wished she had taken him the first time. A part of her once wondered if she could simply sweep him away, leave the castle, and live in some secluded part of the Isles for the rest of their lives. Logically, she knew better. Which was why she never acted on the thought. Now, seeing him in so much pain, riddled with new scars, she hurt for that little boy who missed out on the alternative life she wanted for him.

For a long time, Lilith almost hated the Golden Guard. She knew it was childish, but watching him break all of her records in the training camps, and knowing this set him up to replace her, actually scared her. Not only had the Emperor not yet cured her sister, but she wasn’t convinced he would simply allow her to walk away retired. Given her connections to Eda, she knew too much to roam free. Having had nowhere to safely redirect her contempt for the situation other than onto the child, she found herself behaving quite heatedly around him. Now, thinking back on those times, she cringed. Hunter was never anything more than a child, even now.

“You will stay here then,” she told him. “Until you come up with a better plan, at least. Stay as long as you need. You’re right…Kiki won’t suspect a thing.”

“If anything she’ll be keeping an eye on that kooky Owl Lady’s house,” he smirked at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Not with the Day of Unity approaching,” Lilith murmured and Hunter’s smug face fell.

“You know about that?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Eda called me last night after you and Luz got out…that’s why he did this, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Hunter rolled his eyes as if his uncle trying to kill him was a casual Sunday evening affair for him.

“Are you hungry, witchlet?” Gwendolyn appeared at Lilith’s side then, her eyes watching the sickly child carefully.

“Uh…I,” his eyes flickered between the two witches and Lilith placed a hand on her mother’s forearm.

“Mother, this is Hunter, the Emperor’s nephew. Hunter, this is my mother, Gwendolyn, and my father, Dell,” Lilith introduced them, sensing Hunter’s uncertainty. “Mother, if you wanted to reheat yesterday’s dinner, leftovers sound lovely right now. I’m not sure how much Hunter will stomach tonight, but we can try.”

“You’re not my boss anymore,” Hunter looked at Lilith, grimacing at the fact that she made the decision for him. “You don’t decide when I eat.”

“Would you rather talk to her yourself? I can step out,” Lilith challenged him, knowing fully he was too uncomfortable to navigate the circumstances without her. He groaned and looked away. “That is what I thought.”

“Why don’t you come and help me for a moment, Lily,” Gwendolyn walked toward the kitchen, her eyes lingering on the child before landing on Lilith. “Dell can keep an eye on Hunter here.”

“Of course, Mother,” Lilith agreed, despite feeling resistant to the idea of letting Hunter out of her sight. Whether she was afraid he’d make a run for it, get hurt, or be taken by someone…she wasn’t sure.

When the two witches stepped into the kitchen, the door closed behind them. Lilith immediately made her way to the fridge, where she removed the leftover container of soup from the evening before. Gwendolyn watched with soft eyes, noticing the way her daughter’s hands shook and her gaze remained cast downward. Lilith, still in the depth of her memories, poured the soup into a pot and placed it onto a burner to begin warming. Once she was done and set a spoon out to stir it with, she turned to face Gwendolyn.

“Come here, witchlet,” Gwendolyn sighed, holding her arms out.

Lilith walked over and leaned into her mother’s gesture. Gwendolyn was a full head shorter than Lilith, so the younger witch was nearly draped over her shoulder during the embrace. She rubbed Lilith’s back, allowing her to stand in silence and be held. It wasn’t very often she was allowed to hold the girl and she still relished in it, just as she did when Lilith was a tiny witchling. Before they reconnected when Lilith left the coven, she wasn’t sure she even remembered the last time she hugged her. Had it somehow not been since her childhood? Before the tryouts even?

Lilith began to shake as she cried, the movement gentle but coming from somewhere deep inside her. She no longer tried to suppress the memories that the evening’s events siphoned from the darkest corners of her mind. Any endeavor became pointless as a new one surfaced as soon as she was able to sweep the previous one away. She was grateful to not be alone, but greatly wished she was at the Owl House instead. Though she was aware the evening’s events would have taken a much bigger turn for the worst if she hadn’t been home.

“What did that coven do to you?” Gwendolyn finally asked, completely baffled by the witch she’d been watching all evening. 

She’d always assumed it was her desire to appear professional in such a highly political role that created Lilith’s cold, stony persona. Now, having seen her daughter perform field medicine on a child soldier in their kitchen, she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that things were much darker than she ever imagined. Lilith saying something about reliving old times to the child played again in Gwendolyn’s mind, reminding her that the occurrence must have happened before. Even if she hadn’t said it, it was clear Lilith was responding from muscle memory the entire night. Suddenly, the need to suppress all feelings in favor of holding herself together made sense.

“I can’t talk about it, Mother,” Lilith finally spoke, sniffling softly. “I can’t.”

“I can handle it, Lilypad,” Gwendolyn whispered, leaning back and wiping tears away from her daughter’s flushed cheeks with soft fingers. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t,” Lilith cleared her throat, stepping back. Gwendolyn could see her already beginning to withdraw again. “You can’t. No one can. No one should.”

The sound of Hunter letting out a pained shout from the living room caused Lilith to jump in her place, relinquishing her grip on her mother’s arms. She was moving again, leaving her mother behind and wiping the remainder of her tears away. When she entered the living room, Dell was kneeling before Hunter and swiping his tussled blond locks from his forehead. Her dad looked at her with a panicked expression, momentarily resembling Edalyn, before looking back down at the kid.

“What happened?” Lilith asked.

“I don’t know,” Dell shook his head.

“It hurts,” Hunter hissed. “It just…it’s too much.”

“Hunter, where does it hurt?” Lilith stepped in and planted herself on the edge of the couch. She lifted his shirt to ensure the stitches remained in place and was pleased to see no changes. The boy muttered that everything hurt and Lilith sighed. More of the shock had likely worn off and he was likely truly feeling the extent of the injuries now. “On a scale of one to ten?”

“Eight…nine,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

She nodded, placing her hands on his cheeks. He looked at her with wide, fearful eyes and the sight tugged harshly at her heart. Seeing the child in so much pain was almost unbearable for her, as she’d already spent the evening in deep regret for not kidnapping him and leaving the coven over a decade earlier. She was one of the adults who were responsible for this child and she left him behind out of fear. She knew the pain would be harsh, especially now that she dealt with the chronic pain of her curse, but she knew nothing else she could do. Just as she had a decade before, she leaned in and pressed her head to his.

“With this spell declared,” she whispered, mustering all of the little magic she could produce with her injured bile sac. “Let the pain be shared.”

Within a moment, she felt herself curl inward at the sudden pain in her side, ribs, and head. It was searing and deep. Hunter watched her, stunned by her selfless actions, before a knowing look flashed across his eyes. She was still curled over, taking deep breaths and attempting to collect herself amidst the wildly distracting onslaught of pain. Given the hefty amount of disconnect she was feeling in response to the evening’s triggering events, she almost welcomed the pain.

“You’ve done that before,” he whimpered.

“Yes,” she whispered, not yet looking up, her arms wrapped around her own torso. “With my sister. Many times.”

“No…with me,” he continued, blinking. His hand reached up to his cheek. “You took the pain.”

“You remember,” she began straightening her back and looked at him again, placing a hand on his arm.

“I don’t understand,” his brow furrowed. “I thought you hate me. I thought you always hated me.”

“I never hated you, witchlet,” she shook her head, the hand moving to touch the familiar scar on his cheek. She’d always wondered if he remembered her stitching it that afternoon. It wasn’t as if she could simply ask him. “After he punished both of us the next day…I knew it would be best for your safety if I stayed away. I had to create distance. Otherwise…I’m certain I would have done something reckless.”

The child’s face crumpled then, tears welling in his dark eyes. She nodded understandingly. So many years of isolation and pain, and for what? They both thought thought the same thing. The Emperor knew exactly what he was doing when he prohibited Lilith from connecting with anyone else in the coven. He knew exactly what he was doing when he prohibited anyone from helping the child over the years. Hunter sniffled then and Lilith shifted her hand to allow it to rest on his cheek, her thumb tracing his cheekbone affectionately. It hurt her to see him hurting, though she understood.

“I’m so sorry, Hunter,” her voice was thick. “You were too young. You are still too young.”

Gwendolyn entered the living room, planning to tell them dinner was ready. The scene before her caused her heart to ache. The child on the couch was crying as Lilith sat beside him, curled over him and holding him in the best embrace she could given his injuries. Dell knelt beside them, a hand on Lilith’s back. The mother wasn’t sure of the exact relationship between the two former coven members, but it was clear there was some sort of connection. As much as the circumstances hurt, she couldn’t help but feel a small spark of delight at the sight of Lilith with a child.

She knew her daughter had no interest in romance. While Eda often pretended to be a knight in shining armor or a superhero saving a girl, Lilith only ever pretended to be a coven scout or guard. Sometimes she pretended to be a teacher or librarian, but none of these roles involved a romance plot. Once she got older, and Eda began dating, her disdain for romance became even more evident. Now, with her daughter a fully-grown witch, she was very aware of the fact that she still hadn’t exhibited any interest in the matter.

Despite not being interested in romance, Lilith had always demonstrated maternal instincts. She was a wonderful older sister to Eda growing up and was fond of both Eda’s children and her former protege, the Blight girl. Gwendolyn never wanted to bother Lilith about what seemed to be a sensitive subject, but she was still curious. She couldn’t help but wonder if Lilith wanted what Edalyn had. Did she want to be a parent? Did she want to help with the children? Had she connected with other children on the Isles over the years?

Evidently, she had.

Dell looked up then and offered Gwendolyn a grim smile. She walked closer and placed her hand on his firm shoulder, whispering that he could come with her to offer them a moment of privacy. Dell nodded, squeezing Lilith’s shoulder one more time before leaving her. She hadn’t looked up, her attention focused solely on consoling Hunter, who was still in distress. 

When the two parents entered the kitchen, Dell was comforted by the familiar smell of the soup. He began dishing out two bowls while his wife quietly prepared the freshly disinfected table, the faint sound of Lilith’s warm voice traveling through the closed door. The curious part of him was disappointed to be pulled away. He wanted to know what they were talking about. The more rational part of him knew Lilith had waited for them to walk away to talk to the child. Whatever experience they had been discussing when Lilith cast the pain-sharing spell had likely been personal.

“She used the pain-sharing spell,” Dell gruffed, placing both bowls on the table. Gwendolyn looked up with wide eyes as she lifted her spoon. He nodded. “Sure hope she doesn’t deplete herself over this.”

“Lilith knows her body best,” Gwendolyn shook her head.

“He mentioned something about her having done it for him before,” Dell continued, knowing Gwendolyn had missed the first half of the conversation and that she would want to be filled in. “She was surprised he remembered…which means…he had to have been even younger.”

“He’s just a child now,” Gwendolyn’s face twisted up with sadness. “The Emperor used his nephew as a child soldier? I don’t understand.”

“Your daughters both seem to share quite a bit of abhorrence for the Emperor,” Dell shrugged, not as surprised as he would have been before Lilith left the Coven. “I suppose it’s always been more than derision for Edalyn, huh?”

“You think Edalyn knows what this is all about?” Gwendolyn tilted her head to the side before taking a small bite of her meal. She didn’t have much of an appetite, despite welcoming the distraction.

“Perhaps,” he shrugged again. “I don’t know, Gwendolyn.”

The pair sat in near silence, taking small bites of their food. The only sound between them was the metal of their spoons sliding against the ceramic bowls and the occasional sound of their daughter’s voice in the other room. 

Dell contemplated everything they’d gathered that evening. Lilith had clearly been working in the field over the years, likely experiencing hostile and combative situations firsthand. As had the child who showed up severely injured on their doorstep. Treating his injuries had been second nature for the older witch, who clearly cared deeply for him. It sounded as though whoever injured the boy, which it seemed was likely the Emperor himself, had also punished Lilith for helping him in the past, based on that conversation. This would explain why Lilith insisted a healer wasn’t welcome. The father’s stomach twisted at the thought and he sat his spoon down.

“What is it?” Gwendolyn put her spoon down before reaching out and taking his hand on the table.

“This is all our fault,” Dell shook his head, a heavy tear falling from one of his eyes.

“How?”

“If we’d never allowed her to try out for that damn coven, she would have never gotten hurt,” Dell slammed his fist onto the table, silencing the voices in the other room. Gwendolyn shook her head, telling him he couldn’t possibly believe that. 

“She was young but she was a grown witch when she left. We couldn’t have stopped her even if we had thought to. Telling her not to join would have, if anything, pushed Eda to follow her,” she explained, thinking of her younger daughter’s inclination to do the opposite what they asked of her. “I wish we could have done more to protect her, but there’s nothing we can do now. Serving the Boiling Isles as Head of the Emperor’s Coven is the highest honor and it speaks to Lilith’s greatness that she fulfilled that role, even if it wasn’t everything we’d hoped. Let’s be grateful we have both witchlets safe and close to home now.”

Dell grumbled but couldn’t argue with that.

“I heard a loud noise,” Lilith poked her head through the door, curious eyes watching her parents closely with a slight edge of suspicion.

“Your father is worked up, is all,” Gwendolyn patted his back and Dell glowered at her. “Don’t worry about us, Sweet Flea. Are you two hungry now?”

“Yes. I’d prefer if we eat alone, if that is alright,” Lilith walked in and began portioning out two more bowls of soup. “Hunter is understandably quite skittish at the moment. Perhaps you two can spend some more time getting to know him in the morning after he’s a bit more settled?”

“Of course,” Gwendolyn nodded, idly mixing her soup with her spoon. “Whatever you need.”

“Thank you for understanding,” Lilith lifted both bowls and walked over to the table, pausing in front of her parents. “And for your help. Tonight would have been far more difficult without the extra hands. Hunter is grateful as well.”

Lilith returned to the living room and placed the two bowls on the small table in front of the couch before helping Hunter readjust so he was propped up. She had scooped mostly broth into his bowl, imagining digestion would not be particularly comfortable with the injuries he had suffered. Once he was situated so that he could swallow more safely, she spoon-fed him in silence. Feeling vulnerable, Hunter welcomed the silence and the warm food. Once he said he was feeling full, Lilith helped him get comfortable before moving to begin eating from her bowl. She was still perched beside him, too nervous to move too far away.

“Thanks…for everything,” Hunter spoke softly. “I wasn’t sure you’d help me when I came this way.”

“Of course,” Lilith brushed him off. “Thanks are unnecessary. I am quite glad you chose to come here, if I’m honest.”

“Your parents seem nice,” his eyes flickered toward the kitchen door. “Are they okay with me staying?”

“Of course,” Lilith reassured him. “They’re quite shaken by what all has happened, but they will be okay. My parents have always been rather hospitable. Any friend of mine is a friend of theirs. Don’t fret about putting them out, or anything of the sort. Do you feel comfortable sleeping in here tonight? I can move you to my bed if you prefer.”

“You know this couch is comfier than anything in the castle,” Hunter snorted and Lilith raised her eyebrows in agreement.

“Can’t argue with that,” she shook her head.

Once Lilith finished her meal, she retrieved several blankets and another pillow before returning to the living room. Hunter watched with soft eyes as she draped a one over him and tucked it in around him. The light smell of her perfume on the blanket was comforting to him, much to his surprise. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he felt more comfortable in her parents' home than he ever had at the castle. Hunter wondered if he’d feel more comfortable sleeping on a rock under a bridge in the rain than he did in the castle.

Lilith, not noticing his pondering, forced him to take several sips of water, mumbling something about him likely being dehydrated. She then moved to one of the large chairs her parents had sat in and tossed her pillow into it before curling up there, pulling the second blanket over herself. Hunter’s eyes widened as she dimmed the lights and he realized she was planning to sleep in it.

“You cannot sleep there,” he shook his head, not daring to sit up.

“I am going to stay close so I can keep an eye on you,” Lilith asserted. “You will need round-the-clock care until you are mobile again.”

“I can yell,” he rolled his eyes.

“No, this is comfortable enough,” she wiggled under her blanket, where she was quite literally curled into a ball, as if to prove her point. Lilith knew she would be even sorer in the morning, the ache from splitting pain with Hunter still burning her muscles,  but didn’t have it in her to be concerned about it. “Please, Hunter. Don’t worry. I am okay.”

“Ugh,” he rolled his eyes, accepting the loss.

The younger witch watched as Lilith’s mismatched eyes drifted shut. With time, her breathing evened out and it was clear she had already fallen asleep. He watched her, admittedly comforted by her closeness. The day’s emotions washed over him like a tidal wave then, flooding his senses with feelings of grief, pain, longing, and love. Facing his uncle, after infiltrating his mindscape with Luz, had been a terrible idea, but he didn’t know what else to do. After narrowly escaping, he didn’t know where to go. When Lilith, the witch sleeping across from him, popped up into his mind, he tried to dismiss the idea.

In all his years working as a scout, captain, and eventually the Golden Guard, Hunter had strived tirelessly to capture Lilith’s attention. While he knew they’d both faced harsh punishment for their interaction in his early childhood, he never understood why she wouldn’t give him the time of day. From his perspective, no one was better suited to mentor him than the person he was meant to someday follow. Besides, he was still her superior. They had a lot in common and he could see that, even as a young teenager. They were loyal to the Emperor, had an insatiable hunger for knowledge and bird palismen, and were well-known prodigies throughout the Isles.

Lilith always pushed back, however. If he offered her a book or knowledge he’d gained from one, she bit back at the implication that she didn’t already have the same information. If he offered to watch her palisman, Socks, she would accuse him of plotting to turn it over to the Emperor. If he approached her with an offer to work together on a mission, she turned to the Emperor himself to request something of a higher caliber for herself. She was persistent in her efforts to keep distance between them, and he eventually gave up.

When he was bleeding furiously from the several wounds the Emperor left on his face and side, the memory of her tenderly suturing the wound on his cheek played in his mind. He couldn’t distract himself from it, no matter how hard he tried. Something about the interaction had stuck with him, and that felt important. He knew she could help him, and, underneath all of his disappointment, trusted her to try. Besides, at the very least, Kikimora would never expect him to turn to someone who he’d had a rivalry with for the better part of his entire life. Not having time to weigh other options, he had taken off for the older Clawthorne’s residence immediately.

Now, having seen her rapidly handle the emergency, only to flip and aid his pain with tender hands and what little magic she had, he felt as if he was given whiplash. The gentle, thoughtful version of Lilith snoring lightly across from him was nothing like the Lilith who served his uncle for decades. The realization spawned a sense of hope in Hunter, who often felt too prickly as a result of his upbringing in the Emperor’s Coven. If Lilith could learn to open up and let others in, surely he could one day do the same.

Plus, she’d managed to survive with a hefty bounty over her head. She and Eda knew what they were doing when it came to hiding out from his Uncle. Eda had done it for decades. If he was going to turn to anyone at this point in his life, it was nothing short of a miracle that it had been them. He let out a small sigh of relief, feeling more grounded in his hectic decision-making as his eyes began to close. While he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he could see a small amount of light on the other side.

When Lilith peeled her eyes open, the sound of the boiling rain had stopped and been replaced by the creatures of the surrounding woods. She released a soft sigh, comforted by the familiar sounds of her childhood. She shifted in the chair she was curled into, her body stiffening at the several jolts of pain that shot through her abdomen and skull. It had been a very long time since she’d felt such pain at the Emperor’s doing, though this time indirectly, and she did not miss it.

Her sleepy eyes focused on the child sleeping on the couch across from her. He seemed more comfortable, but that could have been the result of being in the deepest state of sleep. Lilith pushed herself upright, wincing at the wave of pain this triggered. She turned her head to find her dad reading in the chair beside her. If he had noticed her moving around, he wasn’t showing it.

“Mornin’ kid,” he gruffed and she smiled softly. He had noticed.

“Good morning, Father,” she spoke, her voice raspy as she gingerly stretched her sore arms. Lifting Hunter’s full body weight was no small feat, even for her.

“Stiff?”

“That’s an understatement,” she chuckled. 

“You did well last night,” Dell closed his book, turning to look at her with somber eyes. “I know you did what you had to…but you did it well. I’m proud of you.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she scoffed, shifting her gaze to the child on the couch. “As much as I am glad to have been able to help him…I never should have joined that coven. The things I did to be accepted, climb the ranks, and maintain my position...they’re unforgivable.”

“Where did you and Edalyn develop your guilt complexes?” He retorted incredulously.

“Pardon?”

“You and Edalyn both insist you are unworthy of forgiveness. Did it ever occur to you that, perhaps, you are not the one who decides if that is the case? I, for one, see that you two both did what you had to,” he shrugged, reflecting on the way his other daughter had deflected his offering of forgiveness just a few weeks prior. “The world we live in is a complex place. We are all forced to live with decisions we regret, witchlet.”

“Pfft,” Hunter spoke then, startling both witches, who turned to look at him. He was awake and watching them with brighter eyes. “Prissy Lily wouldn’t have anything left to her personality if she gave up martyrdom.”

“Happy to hear you’re back to your normal self, Golden Brat,” Lilith chuckled, unable to project anything other than fondness in her voice. “Were you able to get enough sleep?”

“Not with your snoring,” he laughed and Lilith gave her father a look.

“If you’d like to sleep a few more hours, that can be arranged,” Lilith summoned her staff, which landed in a position in which it was pointed at the boy. He would have been afraid had her poorly repressed grin not given her away.

“Nah, should probably,” he tried to push himself up before letting out a whimper. All games aside, Lilith hopped off the chair and to his side, offering him her arm. Hunter looked up at her with grateful eyes, grabbing onto it. “Should probably try to stand up at some point today. Get the blood flowing and all that.”

“That is a good idea,” Lilith nodded. Her palisman, a white raven named Socks, landed on her shoulder then, tilting its head curiously at Hunter. “I am having Edalyn by today. She has potions that can aid in your healing process. Hopefully, we can speed it up, if she is as good as she insists she is.”

“You know she is,” he rolled his eyes and she jokingly punched his upper arm. “Why else would you have cursed her?”

“Do you two always speak to each other like this?” Gwendolyn looked uncertain as she entered the living room, dressed for the new day, with a hawk and yellow cardinal palisman in tow. Hunter’s red cardinal, Flapjack, hopped along behind them and he let out a relieved sigh.

“This is Lilith being nice,” Hunter laughed nervously, eyeing the raven witch, who watched him with an eyebrow raised. Flapjack hopped onto his shoulder and nuzzled his jaw. “I, for one, am always well-behaved. I’m but a wee witchling who she has targeted with her menacin -...hey!”

Lilith reached up to flick him right between his thick eyebrows with her forefinger. She was grinning at him, challenging him to finish his sentence. Not wanting to overstep in her parent's home, Hunter cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking away from her. Flapjack chirped and Socks cooed, both birds delighted to see their witches interacting. Hunter patted Flapjack, thinking. He wasn’t exactly sure where the line should be drawn when it came to snark. In the castle, it was every witch for themselves. Here, in an actual home, he was unfamiliar with the terms.

“Hunter here has always been rather prickly,” Lilith shrugged. “I simply meet him where he is. If he can’t take what he dishes out, I suppose the title of Genius Teen Prodigy could go to someone else. Luz and Amity are quite gifted, after all.”

“Hey!” His jaw dropped. He had not expected her to continue to tease him.

“Be nice to the child, Lilith,” Gwendolyn frowned, shaking her head and opening the window so their palismen could all fly in and out. “You should know better than to pick on someone younger than yourself.”

“Shoulda told her that before she cursed her little sister,” Hunter remarked and both parents’ jaws dropped. Neither had dared to mention the curse since Lilith moved back in. Hearing this stranger speak so casually of it was alarming.

“Alright, you,” Lilith sighed, standing and dusting off her pajama pants. Socks and Flapjack flew off with the increased tension, following the other two birds out front. “That’s enough now. I think two jabs at the greatest mistake of my youth is more than enough for one morning, don’t you?”

“Eh, I think you’ve gone soft,” he shrugged before wincing at the pain. “Wanna help me go to the restroom? Since you were the one to make me drink all that water?”

“I can help him,” Dell nodded, standing. Hunter looked at him, a nervous expression flashing across his features. Lilith placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I will help you up. My father can help you with the mechanics,” she spoke in a warm tone, all spice left in the previous conversation. Hunter found himself comforted. He trusted her. “You’ll want to move very slowly, alright?”

“Got it,” he nodded curtly.

Lilith held out her arm, carefully helping Hunter from his spot. Once he was up, she wrapped an arm around his waist. He wrapped his around hers, using his outer arm to tightly grip the hands he offered him. The two of them moved very carefully, both witches feeling similar pains as they approached the small bathroom on the main level. Lilith was very grateful they wouldn’t need to take the stairs. Once they reached the door, Dell took over and helped Hunter. Lilith returned to where her mother stood in the living room, her hands pressing together as she faced her.

“You ought to be nicer to the boy, Lilith,” Gwendolyn murmured, her eyes worried.

“In the castle, it was every witch for themselves,” Lilith shrugged, her eyes softly connecting with her mother’s. “As harsh as it is, it is familiar to him. I don’t want him to feel he has to wear a mask here. If he feels inclined to some sass, I can certainly reciprocate.”

“I don’t want him to feel unwelcome,” Gwendolyn glowered at her daughter, not fond of the fact that her child had spent decades in an environment where such teasing was typical. “He is your guest here.”

“Trust me, he feels as welcome as possible,” she reassured her. “He said himself that your couch is softer than anything we had to sleep on in the castle.”

“Why ever does that not reassure me, witchlet?” Gwendolyn’s frown deepened and she walked away to begin brewing a morning apple blood.

While Hunter and Dell were away, Lilith went upstairs to get dressed and ready for the day. She opted for a dark blue, nearly black, button-down shirt and a long, flowing black skirt with black tights and boots. Leaving her glasses on, she pulled her dark blue hair halfway up using a claw clip. Once her hair was up, she put on her go-to black lipstick and winged eyeliner. Despite the unfamiliar pains in her body, being fully dressed allowed her to feel a bit more like herself again.

When Lilith returned to the main level, Hunter was laying on the couch again, with Gwendolyn feeding him a bowl of cereal at his side. Lilith offered him a quirked eyebrow and a smirk, and he rolled his eyes at her. She entered the kitchen and retrieved a bowl, pouring one for herself as her father sat at the table and ate his. Once her food was prepared, she walked to the living room and plopped on the opposite end of the couch Hunter was stretched across and moved his feet so they rested on her lap while she ate.

“You two went through a lot in the coven, huh?” Gwendolyn asked, looking at the scars on Hunter’s neck and face.

“Psh,” Hunter shrugged after swallowing another bite of his food. “Lily here took the brunt of it, being the Head and all. I only dealt with my uncle’s meltdowns when they pertained to me. Until she left, anyway. She faced the impact of them when they pertained to…well …everything else.”

Gwendolyn hummed, frowning.

“She’s tough though,” Hunter added, uncertainty in his tone. “One time he was pissed about something Terra Snapdragon did and Prissy Lily here jumped in front of her to stop one of his blasts from taking Terra’s head off. Terra! Terra! As if Lilith doesn’t want to blow her head off herself.”

“Perhaps I was saving her for myself,” Lilith’s cheeks burned as she cut in. Hunter was telling her mother more than she’d told anyone her entire life. “How about we talk about something else?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Priss,” Hunter rolled his eyes. He turned to look at Gwendolyn again and raised his pointer finger to his cheek. “See this scar? Lilith stitched it up for me when my Uncle punished me for talking back during a training session. I was seven. She stitched it and took half of the pain. Pretty sure he lit her on fire the next day for it too.”

“Titan,” Gwendolyn’s hands were shaking now. She sat the bowl of serial down and it clattered loudly against the table. Dell poked his head through the doorway then, scanning the room with concerned golden eyes.

“That’s enough, Hunter,” Lilith looked weary as she placed her free hand on Gwendolyn’s back. “Mother, it is alright. I knew what I was doing.”

“Again,” Gwendolyn grimaced, folding her arms. “Not comforting, Lilith.”

“You asked if we went through things,” Hunter shrugged again, wincing at the pain the movement triggered. “Witches always react like this. We’re the ones who lived with him and you are the ones freaking out.”

“Hunter!” Lilith hissed, rising to her feet and setting her food down.

“What?”

“You’re upsetting her!” Lilith gestured to her mother, who was visibly shaking. Hunter’s face dropped, shifting into a much more fearful expression. He hadn’t been paying attention. “You have got to drop it.”

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered, his cheeks turning red. “Please. I’m sorry.”

Lilith, unable to keep herself from snapping further, stormed out of the room. Gwendolyn took a moment to catch her breath, placing her free hand on Hunter’s tense arm. Dell quietly stepped back out to follow his daughter. Hearing the boy’s breathing elevate and become erratic, Gwendolyn forced herself to look up at him. His eyes were moving back and forth, something about them seeming distant. She realized he was having a panic attack and felt her stomach twist. He’s right, she thought. I’m over here making all of this about myself when they’re the ones who are hurting.

“Hunter, please take deep breaths,” Gwendolyn spoke gently, her hands resting on his shoulders now. “It’s okay, Sweet Flea.”

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head, his voice shaking. “I’m sorry, Lilith. I’m sorry.”

“Lilith went upstairs,” Gwendolyn glanced towards the stairs, wishing her daughter would return. She didn’t know what to do. “Hunter, it’s okay. Lilith is okay and you are okay.”

“She’s mad at me!” He stammered, his face twisting up into a grimace. “She’s going to make me leave. I have nowhere to go!”

“Lilith would never do that. She cares about you, Hunter.”

“Uncle cared about me too,” he shook his head.

“Not if he did this, as you said,” Gwendolyn pressed a hand to his scarred cheek. “Lilith needed to step away and take a breath. She is not mad. I believe the conversation was too much for her. She…hasn’t said anything about her experience working for the Emperor. I believe it hurts her.”

Tears flowed over the witchling’s lower lids now.

“She hasn’t?” He sounded confused.

“No, she hasn’t,” Gwendolyn sighed. She knew very well that Lilith was only open with those who she trusted and that Gwendolyn hadn’t earned such trust yet. “Not with me, anyway.”

“He was awful to her,” Hunter sniffled. “She was his punching bag...and I stood by the whole time. It was my job to stand guard next to him, at his throne…where he’d do it. He would call her in…almost every day, at times. He’d punish her for…the most ridiculous things. I had to watch it. She hasn’t told anyone?”

“You never should have had to go through that,” Gwendolyn’s voice was strained. “I’m so sorry, witchlet.”

“I want Lilith,” he whispered then, his breath hitching.

“I can go check on her?” Gwendolyn offered, tilting her head to the side. He nodded. “I will go see if she can come back.”

The mother stepped away from the boy, who promptly crossed his arms and looked away, and made her way up the stairs. When she reached the end of the hallway, where Lilith’s room was, she paused outside the door. She could hear Lilith’s frantic breathing on the other side. Dell’s voice was quiet compared to it. Her heart sank to her stomach as she gently pushed the door open. Lilith was on the floor, her back in the far corner of the room, with her head against her knees and her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Dell had a hand on the top of her head, the other on her ankle, as he hummed quietly to her.

He glanced up at his wife and offered her a sad smile, continuing his humming. Gwendolyn approached them carefully, planting herself on the edge of her daughter’s still-made bed. She watched as her daughter rocked herself gently, trying to self-soothe during the anxiety attack. She couldn’t help but wonder how many times Lilith had done this.

“Witchlet?” Gwendolyn whispered. “Hunter needs you.”

Lilith’s head snapped up then, her tearful eyes flickering between her parents.

“He doesn’t want me right now,” Gwendolyn added.

“He certainly doesn’t want me,” Lilith hissed. “I’ve done nothing for that witchling!”

“Now I know that isn’t true,” Gwendlyn’s frown deepened. “He’s worried about you. He thinks you’re mad at him.”

“Of course,” Lilith hissed, sneering as something came to her mind. She raised her arms to swipe hastily at her tears, knocking her glasses crooked. “I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be caring for him right now. None of this is your responsibility, Mother.”

“Now, hold on a minute,” Dell whispered. “You’re not in a rush. He can wait a moment. Lilith, what’s going on right now? What do you need?”

“I try so hard not to think about it,” Lilith began, her voice shaking. “I try so hard. Yet everything makes me think of it. Every noise. Every argument. Footsteps on stone. Heels on tile. Curtains moving. Even my own heart pounding in my chest! Every time I close my eyes, I’m in that damn throne room or in combat. I don’t understand why it won’t go away!”

“For a long time,” Dell stroked her head gently. “I would close my eyes and be standing in front of the owl beast again. It takes time. I had to learn to open up about it when I could.”

“Which is also my fault,” she hiccuped and he shook his head. 

“You were a child. You didn’t know what you were doing and you were sold a faulty curse,” he insisted. “You couldn’t have known. The person who sold you the curse is entirely at fault. I won’t accept any other answer. You, Lilith, made a mistake. I do not blame you and I know Eda doesn’t blame you.”

“I just want things to get better,” Lilith sighed. “With the Day of Unity approaching…I won’t even have time to figure all of this out. I don’t even know what we’re going to do. I have to go to Edalyn’s as soon as Hunter feels better so we can try to fix this.”

“Which you will do,” Gwendolyn interjected. “For now, though…can we take it one day at a time, witchlet?”

“What you two must think of me,” she scoffed, feeling entirely ungrounded compared to her parents. She was too used to being the grounded one in this house.

“We think you’re a brave, brave witch who has had to live through things other witches couldn’t even imagine,” Gwendolyn knelt before her and placed her hand on Lilith’s knee. “We think you’re our beautiful daughter who grew up to be a powerful witch, incredible big sister, loving aunt, and who we’re all lucky to know. That is what we think of you, Sweet Flea.”

Lilith rolled her eyes.

“I mean it. I won’t take no for an answer,” Gwendolyn was stern.

“What’s wrong with Hunter?” Lilith continued to swipe at tears, her breathing evening out as she changed the subject.

“He was panicking. I stayed until he calmed. He told me…about how he had to watch your punishments,” Gwendolyn swallowed thickly. “He said he wants you.”

Lilith nodded then, waving her hands to have her parents back up. They did and offered her their hands, which she gladly took. Their eyes were concerned as she stood, whimpering in response to the pains in her body, but they didn’t say anything. Lilith dusted herself off, took a deep breath, and walked out of the room ahead of them. Not wanting her to be alone, both parents promptly followed her to the living room.

She stepped back into the cozy space to find Hunter silently crying on the couch. He didn't look at her, his head turned to face the cushioned backing, as she perched herself beside him. Lilith reached out to tenderly wipe the tears from his cheeks for him. Not able to ignore her any longer, he turned to meet her loving gaze. Seeing the redness in her glassy eyes only brought more tears. He figured she was hurting, but something about seeing his former boss so vulnerable was gut-wrenching for the child.

“Oh, witchlet,” she sighed, placing her hands gently on his cheeks and rubbing one of her thumbs along his cheekbone. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Do you understand that? Not now and not ever. I never should have snapped at you or walked away like that. I’m so sorry. How are you feeling?”

“You’re not mad at me?” He ignored her question, his lower lip trembling.

Lilith leaned in to press her forehead to his, holding it there in place of a proper hug.

“Never,” she whispered. “Never ever.”

“I’m sorry for telling your mother those things,” his voice continued to waiver. “I don’t know how to act around parents. I never had any.”

“I know that, darling,” Lilith nodded, pulling back to look him in his magenta eyes. She remembered what Luz told her about Hunter being a grimwalker and her heart broke in her chest. He literally never had any. “No one is mad at you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I want you to be you.”

“I always thought Uncle was like a parent,” he mumbled. “He’s not. He never was, was he?”

“No,” Lilith whispered. “He wasn’t.”

“Why am I like this?” He cried quietly. “Why did he do this to me? No one else is like me. No one else messes everything up. Everyone else just knows what to do.”

“While I could argue with some of those points,” Lilith smiled softly, her eyes remaining locked with his. “I don’t know why he did this. All I know is …I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re you.”

Hunter sat up then, ignoring the ripples of pain in his abdomen, and wrapped his arms around Lilith’s waist. She held him to her, resting her chin on top of his messy hair, and rocked very gently. While she still wasn’t used to hugging anyone, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by the close contact. It was comforting to connect with another witch who had been through similar circumstances. It was comforting to know Hunter was safe in her arms. It was comforting to know neither of them was alone, regardless of what was to come.

Hunter was relieved to be close to Lilith again. What he wanted to say was that he now knew his uncle was no parent because Lilith had been more of a parent to him the previous day than his uncle had been in his entire life. Watching her and her parents interact was eye-opening for him. Even amidst the tension, they all watched each other and cared for each other. Lilith, despite struggling with her problems, was nothing short of compassionate and kind to him. The closest thing he’d ever experienced was his friendship with Darius, which could be hot and cold at times.

“Edalyn should be here soon,” Lilith sighed, not pulling away from the witchling. “How do you feel about us curling up with a book until she gets here?”

“That would be nice, actually,” he shook his head, amazed that she always seemed to know what he needed next.

Lilith carefully pulled away and walked to the bookshelf. She read a handful of titles she believed he may be interested in off to him and he chose one about wild magic. She smiled, unsurprised by his choice. The older witch returned to the couch and tucked herself into the side, against the armrest. Once she was settled, her legs crossed, and the book waiting beside her, she helped Hunter tuck himself into her side, under her arm. With his head against her shoulder, she lifted the book to begin reading it aloud to him.

Listening to Lilith’s alto voice was so soothing Hunter felt his eyes begin to flutter shut. He enjoyed the content of the book, but he had never felt as at peace as he did resting against her chest and listening to her read to him. Despite all of the doom he knew was on the horizon with Emperor Belos racing towards the Day of Unity. So, he allowed himself to let go and relax for a while, trusting that she would be there when he woke up.