Chapter Text
1.
It wasn’t the first time Hunter had been hit. But he remembers it better than any other time before that.
He knows that he’d been hit by Belos before. The fear was already instilled in him. He knew to only speak when spoken to and not get in other people’s ways, or else there’d be a smack to the back of his head or a bop on the mouth. Disrupting Uncle Belos when he was in his study was a fool’s errand, and he’d already learned not to cry that hard about it. It was a normal occurrence, and making it into a big deal would only make Belos angrier.
He’d already learned to kneel. He knew how to apologize. Because Hunter was nothing if not obedient.
Except, for some reason, this moment stuck with Hunter for a very long time. On his worst nights, he’d recall the event while laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating what led to the absolute mess that was Hunter the Golden Guard. Especially when he lived in Hexside. Especially on that first night in the human realm.
Of all the things to remember so clearly, this was ingrained into Hunter’s brain.
He was about eight years old. Maybe nine, if it was right before he went into scout training since he does remember the look of his old boots he was staring at, the ones that were made of weak leather instead of being built for protection. He kept glancing down at the different shades of brown, his bare fingers running across the fancy hem design of his silk shirt sleeve. So he was young, far too young to know better.
But Hunter learned. Just like he always did.
He was standing beside Belos, and it was some kind of meeting. The coven heads were there, and they were discussing some policies while giving updates on each of their covens. Hunter, just a little kid with wide and curious eyes looking on, was listening as diligently as possible. Uncle said he was going to be the Golden Guard someday if he proved himself, and he’d do anything to make the only family he had left proud. And Belos was proud when Hunter learned something new, and Hunter loved to learn, so these meetings were the perfect moments. He didn’t understand half the words they were saying yet, but once he did know maybe he could contribute to the conversation!
But for now, Hunter stood there, trying not to sway on his feet too much while he listened to all the others. The newest head witch, Darius, was giving updates on the Abomination coven and about the inventions of some guy named Hack. Hunter thought it was a really weird name, but he didn’t say anything about it. It was rude to interrupt the coven heads, and Darius had never liked Hunter much anyway.
“I sent a few of my subordinates over to Blight Industries to pick up the prototype blueprints.” Darius said, shifting around a stack of paper in front of him with little interest. “I haven’t looked too deep into it, admittedly. Something something hand blaster, something something voice controls. No interesting upgrades in my book, but I thought the Emperor's Coven may find them more useful than I can.”
“This is a technological advance that the Boiling Isles has never seen anything like before,” the head of the Construction coven, Mason, had commented. “And you don’t find it of any use in your own coven?”
Darius rolled his eyes. “Whatever toys that hack plays with in his free time doesn’t mean anything to me. His abominations are weak and he makes up for it in gimmicks. If he was worth my fairy tears, he’d get his little creations right the first time.”
Hunter wanted to shrink into himself at that. He knew Belos was building him an artificial staff for when he became Golden Guard, since it was confirmed that Hunter was another powerless witch in their bloodline. He couldn’t even draw a spell circle, let alone actually cast anything with it, and the staff was going to help him be better once he proved he’d earned it. But Darius’ words knocked around in his head painfully. Weak. Makes up for it in gimmicks.
Hunter refused to be weak. The Titan had big plans for him, after all.
Hunter didn’t sit in those thoughts for long, though. It was Lillith that spoke next, standing on the opposite side of Belos. She was cool, collected, but the tone in her voice was just enough to threaten. Hunter would kill to be as amazing and powerful as her. “Are you implying that the Emperor's coven is worth nothing more than gimmicks, Darius?”
Belos’ back straightened slightly. It was just enough that only Hunter really noticed it. Lilith had the tiniest cocky smile on her face.
Hunter looked over to Darius, like a kid watching another student in school fight with the professor. But miraculously, the man didn’t falter, no fear or backtracking whatsoever, just a slight shift in his chair that could’ve meant a million things. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I said his abomatons are useless to me because they barely classify as abomination magic. The Emperor’s Coven, however, benefits from any resource around the Isles. The coven needs strong soldiers, abomination magic or not, and the technology is impressive from every other standpoint. However, I’d rather put my personal focus more on my magic specialty.”
Hunter risked another glance over to Lilith. She hadn’t moved an inch, but Hunter still felt threatened by her just from her poker face.
“An acceptable explanation.” Lilith responded, and Hunter could hear the slight smirk in her voice. “I respect the ability to make such a quick save. Until then, I almost believed that you doubted the Emperor’s abilities.”
And just like that, Lilith wasn’t smirking anymore. “Don’t let it happen again.”
Miss Lilith was so cool.
Darius wilted in his seat under the scrutiny, in a way that Hunter almost felt sorry for him. “Of course. My apologies, Head Witch.”
Eberwolf, the beast keeping coven head, snickered from the opposite side of the table. Darius shot him a deadly glare.
“Hand over the blueprints.”
Hunter almost jumped from his spot at the commanding voice next to him. Belos was always scarily quiet during meetings, only speaking when he absolutely had to. It never failed to catch Hunter off guard, but he wasn’t supposed to be reacting to anything. He was supposed to stand there and take it all in, be on his best behavior to make Belos look good. So when Belos moved to hold out his hand, Hunter didn’t do anything at all. “I’d like to see this technology for myself.”
Still with an embarrassed grimace on his face, Darius had passed out the papers to all the coven heads with a lift of his finger, his magic making them glow and drift off to everyone in the circle. Hunter couldn’t help but be a little jealous. The ability to do that looked so cool, even if it was so simple. The coven heads really were remarkable.
The blueprints were passed out, and everyone in the room had gone quiet as they looked over them. Belos’ throne was too high for Hunter to look over his shoulder, and everyone else was too far away, but he wanted to read it so badly. It was technology being used to make magic stronger! Even if Darius didn’t like Hack, the possibilities were endless!
For a moment, Hunter considered his options. Belos wanted him to learn things during these meetings, especially if his spot by Belos’ throne was going to be permanent. It was good he wanted to take on the extra work. And as long as he was very polite about asking, Belos shouldn’t get mad at him. And if he did say no, Hunter would accept it without a fuss. This wasn’t anything too risky.
(Later, Hunter would learn that every choice he made was risky. The factors on whether or not it would make Belos angry changed by the minute. But he was young, and dumb, and made so many mistakes.)
(This day was not an exception.)
“Uncle?” Hunter had asked, his voice quiet and his back straight just like he’d been taught, “May I look at the paper too, please?”
It hadn’t taken a second for the silence to no longer be comfortable.
The tension that entered that room was thick enough to suffocate. Hunter risked a glance towards the coven heads, hoping for some kind of hint for what he’d done wrong, but they were all staring at him wide-eyed. They looked towards each other, then to Hunter, then all looked at Belos.
Belos was wearing his mask. Hunter didn’t know what he was thinking.
“ …Uncle?” The Plant coven head, Terra, had asked while she hid a menacing smile behind her hand. “Emperor, I didn’t know the boy was your nephew.”
“I don’t think anyone knew.” Darius added, but his face was a lot more blank. He was looking at Hunter, but it was more like he was looking through him.
Hunter shrunk into himself. He’d screwed up. He knew it.
“Hunter.” Belos said, his voice stone cold. It sent a shiver up Hunter’s spine. “Go to my study. Now.”
He didn’t have to be told twice. In a haste, Hunter did a deep bow just like he was taught to and made a break for it out the door.
Turns out, Hunter was wrong about the throne room. Because the tension in such a large study all by himself, waiting for several minutes, that was thick enough to suffocate.
The study wasn’t as imposing of a room as the throne room. The throne room had that long hallway to make you feel small, the heart beating to such a steady pace it was almost mocking. But the study wasn’t made to intimidate. It simply had walls of books and a nice desk, covered in papers that Hunter already knew he wasn’t allowed to read. There was nothing for Hunter to do except pace, hugging himself tight in an attempt to release his nervous energy.
What was he thinking, addressing Belos as uncle in front of the others like that? He didn’t know that their blood relation was a secret, but he’d already been taught so much about how important respect is. And yet there he was, embarrassing Belos in front of everybody by neglecting his title. How was Hunter supposed to be anything important if he kept messing up?
Disrespectful. Childish. Stupid, stupid, stupid-
The door to the study opened. Hunter had never straightened his back so fast before.
Belos still had his mask on, but Hunter didn’t need to see his face to know he was upset. His steps were faster and heavier, making Hunter flinch each time the stomp echoed. His back was straight, too straight.
He could feel Belos’ eyes burning into him.
Hunter tried his best to do damage control. This wasn’t his first time, he knew how to apologize. He straightened his back, clasping his hands tight behind him, and had his eyes shifted to the floor. Just like he was taught.
(Hunter was nothing if not obedient.)
“My apologies, Emperor.” Hunter said, trying not to freak out about how Belos was still coming closer without a word. “My actions have been inexcusable and-”
Smack.
The slap was strong enough to knock him to the floor.
His right cheek stung, hot to the touch and the only thing Hunter could actually feel. His limbs were frozen, and all Hunter could do was just…sit there. His head was so loud it was silent, none of his thoughts coherent enough to process. Slowly, he looked up at Belos, his hand only now lowering back to his side.
The deer mask was looking through Hunter’s soul, and that was a sight he’d never forget.
“You will never disrespect my title by calling me uncle in front of the coven heads again.” Belos said plainly, the blue glow of his eyes making Hunter’s whole body shiver. “Do you understand me?”
“Y-Yes Emperor, I understand.” Hunter practically whispered, resisting the urge to rub at his cheek with his hand. He’d never felt so… hurt before. The bruises on his arm or bleeding welts on his palms as punishment may have been objectively worse, but something in Hunter’s brain felt rattled . He was in shock, and this brand of fear was something Hunter had never felt before.
(It was the first time he’d truly felt unsafe.)
But Belos didn’t back down. That was another thing Hunter learned quickly, a lesson he’d remember above all else:
The slap isn’t the punishment. It’s the warning.
“I think I will judge if you understand.” Belos said, the coldness in his words enough to make Hunter’s stomach drop. “Go fetch a switch. You have ten minutes.”
Hunter’s face paled. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop. “I- Please, I’m really sorry, I swear I’ll never make that mistake again, please forgive me-”
“ Ten minutes.”
Belos didn’t move. His voice never changed. It didn’t matter that Hunter was on the brink of tears, because Belos could frankly care less.
(The Emperor is not a merciful man.)
It’s for my own good, Hunter’s brain repeated back to him, the same mantra that Belos had said before and will definitely say again, repeated once Hunter hands him the switch and without another word until Belos has decided he’s learned. He swallows the tears stinging at his eyes and repeats it as if it can calm him. It’s for my own good, it’s for my own good.
Hunter doesn’t say any other words, he gives a respectful bow and practically sprints out of the study to beat the time limit. The castle is big, and the exit to the outside is pretty far away. He doesn’t have time to be scared, doesn’t have time to process. He just runs.
Hunter’s face still stings. He’s sure that the spot is turning red, and the awful feeling in his chest isn’t only because he’s out of breath. But it was his fault, and for his own good, and clearly Hunter is being weird for being affected so much. He’s going to be the Golden Guard someday, he can’t shatter because of a little discipline. Belos would be so upset with him.
So, Hunter takes all the fear, the adrenaline and uncertainty and violated feelings and shoves them in a box. He’s strong. It doesn’t matter anymore.
No one has to mention the slap again.
(Later, when the worst is finally over, Hunter earns a chance for his apology to be accepted. There’s tears down his cheeks he refuses to acknowledge, and a kneel is harder to pull off when his back is stinging and probably bleeding. But he apologizes, because it was his fault for being disrespectful and causing a scene in front of the coven heads. And Belos is being the kind uncle he loves because he accepts it.)
(When Hunter’s allowed to stand back up, Belos crouches to his level and puts a gentle hand on his cheek, still pink from earlier.)
(Hunter leans into it. It’s one of the last times he does.)