Time had very little meaning for Hector. Every day was basically the same as the one before it. Hector only knew how many years had passed because Quirin mentioned it in almost every single one of his letters, and Adira rarely failed to bring it up either.
Hector could probably track the time if he wanted to. As a citizen of the Dark Kingdom he was always aware of the moon. Almost every month he would sit and watch the full moon for hours on end. It was the only time that he allowed himself to relax and not worry about his work. It would be easy to use the full moons to keep track of how many months and years had passed,, but it was too much effort and not something that he cared a lot about.
Hector didn't think that time really mattered to him. The fact that twenty five years had passed didn't change his duty. Whether it had been twenty five years or a thousand, it didn't matter. Hector needed to protect the tree and the moonstone. As long as he drew breath, this was where he would be. Unless, of course, the moonstone was in danger.
Hector was so diligent in his work that he barely ever took breaks, even for sleeping. Ever since he was a child Hector never slept for more than a few hours at a time. He would much rather take several short naps throughout the day instead of leaving himself vulnerable for such a long period of time. Hector had been in the middle of a nap when he was awoken by some familiar squawking. Hector enjoyed his sleep when he got it, but he didn't let his guard down. As soon as he heard Hamuel's squawking he shot to his feet and forced his fatigue back.
Hector tilted his head in confusion when he saw Hamuel flying around upside down with a raccoon sitting on his feet. He'd seen Hamuel do many odd things, but this was pretty high up there.
"Hamuel!" Hector called up to the raven. "Get down here."
The bird cawed and flipped around, making the raccoon squeal in fear. It clung tightly to Hamuel as it was hanging upside down, but the raccoon's squirming and clawing was just making the raven's grip slip. Hector whistled and snapped his fingers. Hamuel may be Edmund's bird and only had loyalty towards him, but Hector had been able to teach him a thing or two.
Hamuel flew towards Hector and dropped the raccoon into his grip. The poor creature was terrified. The raccoon squeezed its eyes shut tight and clung tightly to Hector's arms. It would take a minute to recover from the flight that it clearly hadn't wanted anything to do with.
Hector looked at the raccoon and he realized that he recognized it. "Oh, I remember you, little thief."
The raccoon looked up at him and chirped. It nuzzled into his arms. Hector scowled and pulled the raccoon away by the scruff of its neck. "Hey, don't do that. You may have gotten cuddles from Quirin's kid, but you're getting none of that from me."
To Hector's shock and slight concern the raccoon looked sad and almost a little scared at his words. The raccoon whined and squirmed until Hector put it on the ground. It ran around frantically and chirped desperately. Something was really bothering it.
"Hey, hey, calm down for a second," Hector knelt and grabbed the raccoon by its tail to stop it. "Just calm down and tell me what happened."
The raccoon took a deep breath and started drawing on the ground. Hector had thought that the animal was smart from the start, at least smart enough to understand what was going on around it. This was something else though. There were many animals who understood humans, but not a lot of them were interested in or capable of trying to communicate with them.
"I guess Quirin's kid has been rubbing off on you." Hector muttered as he watched the raccoon draw. It nodded, but didn't look up from its work. A moment later the raccoon stepped back to show a drawing of a stick figure man. The symbol of the Brotherhood was drawn on its chest. Quirin. What concerned Hector was that the raccoon had drawn jagged points surrounding Quirin.
Just from looking at the drawing Hector wouldn't be able to guess what had happened. However, he already knew from Adira that Quirin had been in danger from the black rocks. Those must be what the jagged points represented.
"Is Quirin trapped by the rocks?" Hector asked. The raccoon seemed to cheer up slightly, relieved that it had been understood. It nodded and started to draw another picture in the dirt. It was another stick figure, smaller than Quirin's. It looked like it was wearing goggles.
"I guess that's Quirin's kid?" Hector said. The raccoon chirped sadly and drew a box around the small figure, with vertical lines cutting through it. The meaning was immediately clear. "He's in a cage." Hector seethed at the thought. The boy, Varian, was just a kid. He couldn't have possibly done something to get him thrown behind bars.
Hector didn't know if this cage belonged to slave traders or a city prison, but it didn't matter. Hector felt sick at the thought of anybody, even those he considered to be his enemies, being imprisoned and locked away in a box. Humans shouldn't be treated like animals, no matter how much they may act like them. The thought of it happening to Quirin's kid, Hector's nephew, made him want to tear apart the people responsible for this.
His first instinct told him to find the kid and get him out. Maybe he could even find Adira and convince her to let him borrow her black rock sword so he could see if he could free Quirin. The Brotherhood was Hector's family, and he was loyal to them.
However, he had sworn an oath to protect the moonstone. It had to be prioritized over everything, even his family. It hurt, and Hector knew that he would be having nightmares about it for years, but he couldn't just leave his post to help his brother and nephew. The moonstone had to come first.
Then Hector remembered why he had sent the raccoon to Corona in the first place. Partially to keep an eye on Quirin and Varian, and partially to look into the impossibility of the kid inheriting powers from the moonstone. It couldn't be possible and Hector didn't really believe it, but if there was even the smallest chance then maybe it was worth looking into.
Hector just needed a single clue, the smallest thing that suggested that Varian had the moonstone powers, and he would see it as a good enough reason to free the kid from whatever cage he'd been thrown in. He'd be able to protect his nephew and keep the powers of the moonstone out of the hands of those who would misuse it. He'd be able to kill two birds with one stone.
"Raccoon, I need you to listen to me carefully." Hector said. The raccoon sat still and attentive. "The black rocks are weird, we all know this. They do weird things. But, did you ever see them do anything weirder than usual around Varian? Maybe they appeared more often around him than anybody else, or more of them showed up when he was upset or something." Hector was just making things up at this point. The moonstone wasn't supposed to have a human host like this. That just wasn't how it worked.
However, something he said seemed to make sense to the raccoon. Its ears perked up a little and it almost looked hopeful, though there was still a twinge of fear in its eyes. It nodded, paused, and then made a so-so gesture with its hand. It was far from solid evidence, but at that moment it was good enough for him.
Well, then, I guess we'd better go get him out of there." Hector said. The raccoon chirped happily and climbed onto Hector's shoulder, and he let it. "Let's go find my rhino and get to Corona." He was tired, and the raccoon seemed exhausted, but they didn't have time to waste. Hector had a brother and nephew to save.
Time had little meaning for Varian, and it had been that way since the blizzard.
At first he had methodically tracked the passing of days. He had promised himself to not go through the motions. Freeing his dad from the amber was incredibly important, and every day that he didn't manage it was another failure. He couldn't afford to take his time and be safe about it. His dad was trapped, and Varian had been worried that the longer he was in the amber the lower his chances of survival got.
Varian was able to track the passage of time until day sixteen, which was when he got really sick. He'd been feeling off since the blizzard, and had to stop and rest for a full day multiple times, but it had been manageable. On the sixteenth day though it got worse. His body shut down on him, his brain felt like it was eternally stuck in that half-asleep and not fully aware phase.
This had lasted for several days. Varian had felt like he was dying, and Ruddiger's anxiety and concern showed that the raccoon had similar worries. Ruddiger had stayed curled up at Varian's side, refusing to leave him, while the boy had curled up next to the amber, equally reluctant to leave.
He had known that the cold of his lap wouldn't help him recover any quicker, and the hard ground made it hard to sleep comfortably, but Varian couldn't leave his dad, no matter how sick he got.
Varian's health eventually improved enough for him to get back to work. He didn't return to tracking the days though. It was just a painful reminder and unnecessary destruction for what he needed to get done.
Even now that Varian was thrown in the dungeon he didn't return to tracking the days. It just didn't matter anymore. He'd kidnapped and nearly killed the queen, he'd threatened the people of Corona, and, probably what was seen as his biggest offense of all, he'd dared to question the king's word.
Varian hadn't been given an official sentence. He'd just been thrown into the dungeon without a trial or a word about what his punishment would be. For all Varian knew this was a life sentence, just a place for the royal family to toss him so they could properly forget about him and ignore his cries for help.
He shouldn't be surprised. Rapunzel had not only ignored his pleas during the blizzard, she'd then apparently forgotten about him immediately afterwards. The king looked the other way when his citizens' lives were being uprooted by the rocks, and then he punished anybody who demanded justice. Varian didn't know the queen well enough to know if she was just like her husband and daughter, but he suspected that she was.
Varian knew that he wasn't just going to be set free. He didn't even think that escaping was a real possibility. He was put in the high-security area of the prison. There was always a guard right outside his cell, and they didn't like him at all.
If Varian was too loud, he was threatened. If he was quiet for too long or looked like he was scheming they would throw a bucket of water at him. Of course, Varian was a deep thinker by nature. For as long as he could remember his thoughts were running wild and there was no way to make them stop. Varian never really stopped thinking, which meant that he was rarely ever dry.
Varian was miserable. He'd been able to fight through the sickness that had been plaguing him since the blizzard through sheer determination and fury, but he couldn't rely on those anymore. He was in prison, his dad would probably remain stuck in the amber forever, and nothing that he could do would change things.
For so long Varian's mind had been teetering on the edge between rage and depression, and now the scales had tipped. His dad was gone. He had no friends. Everybody in the kingdom hated and abandoned him. Even Ruddiger had been taken away from him. Varian was alone, and oh so tired.
He stopped trying to ignore or fight the sickness that had always been waiting for the right time to strike. He just didn't see the point anymore. He couldn't get away from the cold. He couldn't eat better. The beds were far too uncomfortable for him to get any real sleep. There was nothing that Varian could do to stave off the illness, so why bother?
Varian didn't bother trying to get dry or warm after the guards threw water on him. What would be the point when they would just be doing it again in fifteen minutes? He didn't eat any of the food that was brought to them. Just the smell alone was enough to make him feel like he was going to throw up. He knew he wouldn't be able to stomach the food, so why waste the energy?
Varian started to feel the way that he had when the sickness had first hit him back in Old Corona, except it seemed worse this time. There was no dad to curl up close to and pretend that he would protect him. There was no Ruddiger to keep him company. There was no ultimate goal that motivated him to keep fighting. There was nothing.
It got to the point that Varian couldn't even bring himself to drag himself out of bed. He was sore, tired, and felt like he couldn't move at all. If he got up to try to stretch his legs or get some water he would just get dizzy and collapse after taking one step.
It was infuriating, and humiliating, but to be expected. After all, Varian had been betrayed and let down by everybody else, why not by his own body?
It was a lot easier to just stay on the slab that he'd been given for a bed. There wasn't anything he could do but wait. For what, he didn't know. Maybe he was waiting for the sickness to pass like it had before. Maybe he was waiting for his body to finally give out on him so he could finally rest.
He was scared. Varian didn't want to die, but he was just so tired. Everything hurt, and he didn't see an end in sight. What made it worse was that nobody seemed to care. The guards had to have noticed that he wasn't eating, but they hadn't said or done anything to make him eat, and neither had his cellmate. Varian had mentally prepared himself for them forcing him to eat something, and he was shocked and scared when it never happened.
Apparently the guards couldn't care less if he starved himself, and it was scary. Varian knew that people had gotten hurt during the battle, but he hadn't expected just how much people would end up hating him. Varian had thought that he was used to the feeling of people hating him, as the people of Old Corona hadn't been his biggest fans, but none of them had ever wanted him dead before.
He kinda wanted to eat something, just to spite the guards who apparently wanted him to starve to death. It just took so much effort, and he didn't want to do things to get back at someone else anymore. It hurt, and it only ever ended up blowing up in his face. If he ate something, sure, it would spite the guards, show them that he couldn't be taken down so easily, but it would also mean that he would live longer, which meant more pain, and it just wasn't worth it. Not anymore.
Varian moaned and rolled over. He somehow felt too cold and far too warm at the same time. He felt sweaty and gross, which made it even harder to get comfortable. He almost wished that the guards would throw some more water at him. Logically he knew that in the long-run it would just make him feel more miserable, but he was too uncomfortable at that moment to really care about anything besides immediate relief.
His cellmate, Andrew, groaned in annoyance. "Don't you ever stop whining?"
Varian shuddered and curled in on himself as much as he could. He didn't want anybody to be mad at him. Anger meant pain, and he was already so sore. "S'rry," Varrian muttered before breaking into a coughing fit that rattled his chest. It hurt, and when he tried to make himself stop it just made it worse. He couldn't seem to bring in as much air as he needed. He felt like he was choking on his own breathe.
Varian couldn't stop coughing, and it wasn't long before his coughs mixed in with sobs, which made it even harder to breath. He heard Andrew or the guards yell something and then a sudden wet chill as someone threw water on him, but he still kept coughing and crying.
He was scared. He couldn't breathe. He just wanted to go home. Why had they taken him away from his home? Why did everybody hate him so much? It wasn't fair. He wanted his chest to stop hurting. He wanted to be able to sleep for more than an hour. He wanted all of this to stop. He wanted...he wanted…
...he wanted his daddy.
Varian closed his eyes and tried to ignore the tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know if he was crying because of his coughing or because he was scared and upset, but it didn't really matter. All the hurt was just starting to blend together at this point.
He was vaguely aware of a loud crash, soon followed by screaming and yelling. At first Varian thought that he was being yelled at again. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd gotten in trouble for being too loud for something that he couldn't help. He grew tense and expected the pain to come any second now, but it never did.
He heard Andrew say something, though he couldn't understand what it was. Their guard answered, and he almost sounded afraid. The screaming and shouting got closer and closer. It got so loud that Varian felt like his ears were ringing, like it was all happening right in his ears. He whined between choked sobs as he curled in on himself and put his hands over his ears. He wanted the noise to stop, and then all of a sudden it did.
Varian flinched when he felt strong hands on his shoulder. He tried to push them away, but he was still covering his ears with his hands and he just ended up nudging them. Varian froze in terror. He wasn't supposed to attack the guards, even if he was just defending himself. He was in so much trouble. They were going to hurt him, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.
Varian's breath quickened and got caught in his throat. His chest was burning as his coughs grew harsher. He heard someone talking to him, but he couldn't understand the words. He didn't even recognize the voice. All he knew was that they sounded irritated, and Varian knew from experience that meant pain was coming his way.
He froze when he felt something furry nudge gently against his face and then lick at the tears on his cheeks. He recognized the feeling, as it was something that he'd grown so used to back in Old Corona, but he hadn't thought that he'd ever feel it again.
"R-ruddi…" The word was covered up by Varian's coughing. He heard the stranger holding him growl in anger. The hand on his shoulder disappeared and a moment later he felt a cold cup brush against his lips. Varian instinctively opened his mouth and let the cool water in. It immediately soothed his throat and he suddenly realized how thirsty he was. Varian tried to grab the water and drink it quickly before it got taken away, but he started sputtering and coughing even more. Varian was scared and frustrated. He just wanted a drink. Was that so hard to ask that he do it without choking?
The unfamiliar voice said something else. Their tone was quiet and almost gentle. Varian couldn't understand a word they said, but the gentle tone was a nice relief. Varian didn't think he had heard someone be gentle and genuinely concerned about him since before his dad got trapped in the amber. Varian didn't know who this voice was, or what they wanted from him, but he trusted them.
When the cup was brought back to his mouth Varian kept his hands to himself and let the strangely very slowly drizzle it into his mouth. He let them pull the cup away when he had a particularly bad cough, because he trusted that they would bring it right back when the coughing calmed down a little.
It felt like it took several minutes, but finally Varian drank enough that his throat didn't feel so dry. His cough had calmed down and he could breathe again. Varian took in a deep breath, barely caring about the way it made his chest burn. He opened his eyes. Though his vision was blurred by tears, he was able to recognize Ruddiger.
"H-hey, buddy." Varian said weakly. Ruddiger chirped and nuzzled him. Varian's face scrunched up and he let out a sob as he wrapped his arms around his friend and squeezed him a little too tight. Varian started crying harder than he had since his first night in prison, when his circumstances and failures really hit him.
Varian was so overwhelmed and relieved to have Ruddiger back that he almost forgot about the stranger that had helped him. He jumped and felt a spike of panic when he felt the hand return to his shoulder. Varian looked to see who was in front of him and for a minute he was sure he was hallucinating. The man was far too tall, and it looked like he had fur.
"By the moon, what did these guys do to you, kid?" The stranger bent down and effortlessly picked Varian up. The boy yelped as he was held tightly, almost possessively, against the man's chest. His instinct told him to squirm away, but Varian was just so tired. The fur over the man's shoulder was so soft, and Ruddiger seemed completely unconcerned about the situation Varian had found himself in, so maybe it wasn't so bad.
"W-who are you?" Varian asked.
"Hector." The man said. "I'm a friend of your dad, and I'm breaking you out of here."
Varian blinked rapidly and stared up at the man who was looking back at him with the same amount of curiosity and caution. "M-my dad?" Varian's chest tightened as another sob broke through. He buried his face in Hector's fur. "I-I want my daddy."
Hector sighed and Varian cringed. He had annoyed the man. He'd upset his dad's friend and he was going to get hurt because of it. When Hector spoke though there was no anger in his voice, just sadness.
"I know, kid." Hector said. "I'll get you to him. Where is he?"
"H-home." Varian said quietly. He wondered if this was a dream. It seemed impossible that somebody seemed to care about him, and that they were going to take him home. He was going to be able to be back at dad's side. It was too good to be true.
If this was a dream, Varian didn't really want to wake up. This was a lot nicer than being ignored and pushed around by the guards.
"Home it is," Hector said. He adjusted his grip on Varian, and the boy felt truly safe for the first time in forever. "Let's get you to Old Corona."