The Hell Child's fever was getting higher.
Maka had managed to drag him deeper into the woods, hiding the two of them in low bushes when she thought she heard footsteps. She didn't know who had decided to rain arrows down upon their heads, but with a Prince, Dweller, Hell Child and Star Clan in their party, she had no idea who the assassination attempt was for. Soul was slumped against her side, his eyes glassy as he surveyed the area around them. "Get-get me that-plant."
"Shh, I'm not sure we're alone, and save your energy!"
"Maka, please. Get. Me. That. Plant." His breathing was growing shallower, and Maka could feel the heat from his blood blooming on her clothes. The stress was crawling up her spine, and she wasn't sure what to do. They could possibly be under attack, she had no idea where the Prince or Blake were, and Maka for all her many skills, had never learned much about healing. She took a deep breath and tried to look around again. The Hell Child forced himself to sit up, and he grabbed her face. "There is no one here. I can't see a damned squirrel for at least two miles. Plant!"
She growled, pushing him back against a tree. She left her safety of bushes and twigs, gathering the leaves of the plant Soul had pointed out to her. She heard a raspy roots from the bushes, and she rolled her eyes, digging the plant out instead. Once there were a couple handfuls of roots in her possession, she crawled back into her bushes, and looked at him. "What are these for?"
"They-they'll slow my heart down. Keep the poison from spreadin'. Or'll die before we even get there."
"What?! Holy shit are you a damn fool?!" He ignored her, instead taking some of the roots and tossing them in his mouth. He chewed them slowly, eyes getting droopy. Maka pushed his cloak to the side, looking at the arrows in his shoulder, and stomach. "What….what do I do about this?"
"...Don't touch it!" Soul growled at her through clenched teeth. "You'll en' up killin' me."
"You might be dead already, with that gut wound."
"Those are my ribs, Dweller." His voice was flat, but Maka could see the sides of his mouth twitch. She had to resist the urge to punch him in his face. She didn't understand how he could be cracking jokes like he wasn't dying right in front of her. There was nothing she could do, she couldn't touch the arrows, she couldn't really even move him, and this hiding place wasn't going to hold them long.
She also had no idea where the Prince and Blake had gone off too. How could they have gotten so separated? Blake had just been with her when they had fallen! God, she never should've tried to run off, she never should've...She never should've accepted this job, this had been a death sentence and she wasn't ready for this, she shouldn't have ever done this!
"Dweller?" The Hell Child's voice was barely a whisper. She looked over at him, his tan skin rather pale now, and a sheen of sweat across his forehead. "You look panicked."
"You really aren't funny." She spat at him, her hands clenching into fists. "We're going to die." The Hell Child looked behind her, and made himself sit up again, looking around. He sighed, and relaxed back into the tree.
"The other two are about three miles back. They're coming." He gave her a small spark of hope, then his head dropped to his chest.
Maka ran towards Chariot, his rider's shocking blue hair giving her a beacon to run to.
Blake saw her, and if she wasn't mistaken, there was relief on his face. He called to her, asking if she was alright. She started talking a mile a minute, telling him that Soul was dead and Kid was still gone and she didn't know anything about medicine and Soul stopped his own heart-
Blake had stopped her rambling, covering her mouth with a calloused hand. Maka clutched at his shirt, letting him ground her for a moment while her brain caught up with her body. Blake removed his hand from her mouth, and tilted her head up. "What happened?"
"I ran away! I ran away and I found Soul on the ground and-and he-he's hurt. He's hurt, and poisoned, and I don't know anything about medicine! He's slowed down his own heart-"
"To stop the poison from spreading, I've heard of that." Star told her, looking behind her. "Where is he?"
"I hid him. I...he's over here." Maka gestured behind her, and turned back to Star. "Where...Where is the Prince?"
"He's back on the trail, gathering what supplies we could find. After you fucking bolted from me, even though I saved your ass, I found the Prince wandering around after an hour. He was smart enough to just hide until...whoever that was...left. Now, show me the Hell Child." Maka lead Blake to her hiding spot, crawling into the leaves to uncover the injured half demon.
He was cold to the touch, and Maka recoiled when her hands touched his skin, a horrified look on her face. Blake grabbed her wrist, so he could meet her eyes. "He slowed down his heart, he isn't as warm as he should be. He's not dead okay? We aren't gonna let him die yet."
"'Ppreciate it." Soul barely mumbled, and the Star Child scoffed.
"Tell me that when we've actually saved you. Come on, we're gonna move you now, okay?" Blake gave Soul a few seconds to prepare himself, then he managed to pull Soul up from a dead lift, and gently lifted him. Soul hissed between his teeth, but he didn't speak. Maka walked in front of Blake, clearing a path so he and the Hell Child could make their way to the horse. Chariot snorted when they approached, and Maka reached for his nose, petting him while Star situated Soul on the back of the beast. "Do you want to hold him up here, or do you want to lead the horse-"
"Chariot." Maka supplied, her voice weak to her own ears. Blake gave her a look, but he nodded.
"-Do you want to lead Chariot back?"
"I'll lead him back." Maka answered, grabbing the reins. The horse sighed, and she looked at his face. "Walk steady my friend, please." The beast seemed to nod, and he walked at her gentle pace back up the slope of the land, returning to the clearing.
Arrows marred the land, maybe close to three waves if Maka could be trusted to estimate in her condition. They weren't signifying to any army or clan or bandit, or any signifying characteristics at all. They didn't even have the decorative feathers that were popular among the Elves that stalked the eastern corner of the Forest. Not that Maka had expected Dwellers to come out this far, they still had at least two days before they reached the edge of the Forest, and Dwellers lived deep within the trees.
A remarkably unremarkable weapon was never a good sign.
The Prince was sitting in the clearing, a few of their supplies gathered around him. He looked haggard, springing to his feet when he saw them approach. His face fell when they came closer, golden eyes taking in the Hell Child's form. "Is he-"
"He's going to be." Blake answered, frown deepening. "He's barely holding on, and he's poisoned. We can't keep him on the back of Chariot the whole way there. He gotta lay him out, or the poison is just going to spread quicker."
"If we can get through that thicket over there, we'll be near a cropping of traders. They rest there, on their routes, if we're lucky, we might be able to trade something for a cart." Maka told her captors, her voice flat. The Prince considered his options. Maka had to assume he was weighing the risks of trying to save the Hell Child or leaving him for dead.
Finally, Kid pulled a few of the bags onto his back and he looked towards the thicket. "Let's go."
Kid did end up being surprisingly ruthless in trade.
He was as medically inept as Maka, but he had a crown and a family of blood behind his words. When their sad little party came across a spattering of small cottages a few hours later, Kid walked right up to the door and proclaimed who he was.
A talk, an auction and the loss of a sword with more value than Maka's life trading hands later, Kid had procured them a cart. It was a rickety old thing, but it would hold the Hell Child still, and allow him to at least lay out. Maka felt surprisingly unhelpful, sitting on the cart and making sure that Soul was still breathing. His hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, and the shallow breaths weren't as constant as they were a few hours before. Blake worked to hitch the cart to Chariot, and the Prince came round to check on them. "I don't know where to go now, his injuries are extensive."
"Forest." The Hell Child nearly choked out the word, and Maka moved to that he could rest his head on her lap, to make speaking a little easier.
Kid's frown deepened, his head slowly shaking. "You're in no condition to complete this mission."
"No shit." Soul groaned and tried to open his eyes. When he found the task too daunting, he settled for cracking open one eye. "To the small village on the edge. Very edge. Western side."
The Prince considered his options, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Maka didn't see what other choice they had. They weren't anywhere near a real village, or any good medicine. No one this close to the Forest would have enough training to save him, but they didn't have anywhere else to go. Judging by the look on Blake's face, he seemed to have to come the same conclusion.
The Prince sighed, opening his eyes to look at Soul. "What's in this village?"
"A witch."
When they were able to see the tips of the trees from the Forest, Soul started vomiting blood.
Maka hadn't seen his face give her any indication he was even in distress. Blake, who had a basic knowledge of plants, was able to pack the area around his wounds with a white flower that was supposed to stave off infection, and Soul had taken more of the roots that slowed his heart when the sun had risen. He had been motionless for the better part of the day, then suddenly he was on his side, puking blood onto her new trousers.
Maka yelped, and tried to help, but she had no idea what to do. She screamed for Star to just ride. Blake swore, but he pushed the horse faster, the Prince running to jump on the edge of the cart. Soul gagged again, and the Prince shoved Maka out of the way, leading the Hell Child closer to the edge, holding him on his side.
Chariot carried them far, and he ran until a spattering of shabby cottages begin popping up around them. Kid barked for Blake to slow down, and Maka turned around to see the Forest. The trees spread in front of them like a sea of green, and it seems to fill the horizon. Maka swallowed hard, trying to silence the screaming in her blood that told her to run home. The Forest seemed to breathe, the trees floating side to side in a breeze Maka couldn't feel. It was beautiful, if one didn't realize that the Forest lived from the spilled blood of Dwellers and Humans alike.
The Hell Child pulled himself up a little, and pointed at the edge of the Forest. Nestled into the border between Human and Dweller lands was a small cottage. It was older, but well kept, with a garden that spread from the Human side into the Forest. There was a candle in the window, and looked almost welcoming. Not where a witch would live Maka thought, sliding down the cart. Blake pulled them closer to the cottage, pulling back on the reigns before Chariot barrelled through the door. Maka leapt from the cart, and ran to the door. She slammed her fist against the door, screaming that they needed help. Blake and Kid began trying to ease Soul off the cart and towards the door. The door remained closed, and Maka beat against it harder. "Hey! Fuckin' Hey! Open up! We need help! Please!" She went to slam her fist against the door again, but it was caught before she made contact.
The hand wrapped around her fist was nearly on fire, and she followed the markings up the arm until she was staring at the black eyes of a Demon. It wore the body of a large man, his height nearly filled the door, and he had the build of a blacksmith. He glared down at her, and Maka swallowed the unease that his eyes gave her. His jaw was clenched, and he didn't look any more relaxed by her either. She tried to pull away from his, but his hand clenched her wrist tighter, the black marks seemed to move across his skin. "What do you want?" His voice gave her chills, and she tried to pull away again.
"Oi!" Blake hollered from behind her, struggling under the Hell Child's weight. "Can we move it a little quicker?!" The Demon's eyes went wide when he saw the mess the Hell Child was in. He crossed the distance in two strides, and had Soul pulled into his arms.
"Celeste!" The demon bellowed into the small cottage. "Celeste! Help me!" Maka and her companions shared a look, then followed the demon inside. The interior was warm, and it smelled like there was a stew over the fire. Books lined almost every surface, ranging in size and color. There were plants lining almost every window, and jars filled with various kinds of leaves. The whole home smelled heady and strong, it gave Maka a headache. The Demon kept calling into the home, then he turned on Blake. "You! Clear off the table!"
Blake jumped to do as he was commanded, and the Demon laid Soul down. He gently pushed the Hell Child's bangs off his forehead, and wiped some blood away from his mouth. "Celeste for the love of God, this house isn't that big!" Coming from one of the rooms in the back, a pile of books entered the room. Whoever was on the other side wasn't as tall as the demon, but their presence changed the tone of the room, and Maka could feel the magic coming off of them. Soft, but suffocating. The magic here wasn't malicious, but it wasn't to be ignored either. It's master was just that, a true master, and Maka felt nearly ashamed of the way she was sure her own wild magic brushed against the stranger's .
"What is wrong?! You're shaking my home." The books were set on the counter, and Maka was finally able to see the witch. She was a taller than her, and round. Her hair was silver, and it fell down her back. Her eyes were a pale lavender color, and she looked kind. Her eyes went to the table, and it took her a second to register exactly what was happening. Her knuckles went white around the book in her hands. "S-Soul? Is that...Soul?!" The witch flew over to his side, running her fingers over his wounds. "Soul! Soul what happened?! Hey!" She smacked his face and he gasped, eyes looking around wildly. "What happened to you?!"
"Bloodstone."
"Fuck! Who can afford Bloodstone?!" The witch snarled and began gathering jars and combining ingredients into a bowl. "Alexander! My book!"
"Yes love, that narrows it down for me, thank you." The Demon growled at her, but he pulled a book from a high shelf, opened to a page, and set it in front of her. She gave him a grateful look, and went back to mixing her balm.
Maka stood next to Blake and Kid, no one sure what to do. The shock seemed to be wearing off now, and pain was creeping in through the corners of her eyes. The witch looked over her shoulder at them, then went back to her work. "You. Girl, I need your hands." Maka froze, and Blake shoved her towards the witch. She stumbled for a second, then went to stand next to the witch. "I need you to hold the wound open to I can get the arrowheads out. Your hands are small enough that you can help me without opening the wound more. He's going to scream, and this isn't going to be pleasant. Can you keep yourself together."
"...Yes." Maka nodded, and the Witch smiled.
"Good girl."
Blake knew when he was in the way, and he was in the witch's way.
He made his way out of the warm cottage, back into the fresh air outside. He let himself look around a little, eyes taking in views he had never seen before. He'd never been this far north of the Kingdom, nevermind being this close to the Forest. It was massive, a sprawling beast of pine and magic. Being so near made the hairs on his arm stand on end, and he popped his knuckles.
The Forest was antagonistic toward him, it could sense his human blood so close. He kept his distance from the true entrance to the trees, not feeling like losing his life or limbs tonight. Instead, he sat down on the now bloodstained cart, and dropped his head in his hands. "Can't stop here." He told himself, taking a massive breath. He had waited too long for an opportunity like this, and while being bought by the royal family as though he were nothing more than a few pounds of grain was the greatest insult he had felt since that same family had slaughtered his clan, it had put him in a priceless position.
He did wish the others weren't with him.
The Star Child was worried about Soul, the half blood was in terrible shape, and the two days of travel hadn't helped him in the slightest. The witch was powerful, even Blake could tell that, if from nothing else than the great tomes of books that surrounded her home. Only the rich and powerful would be able to afford a book, let alone know how to read one, and the witch had several. She also had a demon, and if Blake wasn't convinced that it absolutely wasn't possible, he would think it was the demon that gave Soul parentage. Demons never stayed once they had a human woman pregnant though, they had no reason too. Demons were known to be heartless and cruel, the bastardizations of human spirit. And yet, the Demon in the home pushed the Hell Child's bangs away with such care…
Then again, Blake could be wrong. He didn't really know what a parent looked like, or acted like. And there wasn't a single one of his masters that he could even pretend was a parent to him. No, the Demon and the Witch weren't something Blake was going to be able to understand. Maybe he could ask the little Dweller-Maka- about what she thought. She seemed smart, smarter than she had any right to be.
He smiled to himself a little when he thought about the Dweller. She had given the horse a name. She had given him a name. It was strange, listening to her call for him and knowing she was indeed asking for him. He liked the name he was given, he liked that it wasn't tied to his clan. She seemed about his age, she wouldn't have been harmed by his Clan when they had walked the lands, and she wouldn't know the hatred towards them. Her kindness was understood, but unexpected. She was a Dweller, she knew the hate, but she chose not to add more hate in the world. At least not with him.
The door to the cottage closed next to him, and Blake lifted his head. The Prince walked out, nodding his head. "They've gotten one arrowhead out. They're working on the last one. I…"
"Never really seen gore before, have you?"
"No." The Prince answered truthfully, then turned to gaze at the Forest himself. Blake watched him carefully, looking at how the second son of the King stared at the land in amazement. The Prince must've felt himself being watched, and he looked at Blake again. "I've never seen the Forest either."
"I haven't either, not in person. Only heard of it. The horrors. Surprised that the King would send his son to such a death."
"We may not die yet." The Prince shrugged, sitting next to Blake on the cart. The Star Child had to resist the urge to scoot farther away, his resentment bubbling in his blood. They sat in silence a few moments, pretending they couldn't hear the screaming of the Hell Child in the house. Kid sighed, running a hand through his stripped hair. "The Dweller tells me your name is Blake."
"Aye."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I'm a servant. Why would you care? Or the Hell Child? The Dweller is apparently a freak, so I'm not counting her as a normal companion. No one cared what my name was." Blake didn't feel like mentioning how he didn't know his name. He was sure he must've had one at some point, for as cruel as his clan could be, he was sure there was love as well. Woman don't hate the children they have, and he was someone's son. He had been loved. He had a name, a name he just couldn't recall.
"A man is nothing more than a name." The Prince answered, and Blake scoffed.
"They call you Kid. What kind of man could you be?"
"A Prince, in case you may have forgotten." There was a steeled edge to his voice, the kind of tone only someone who had power could summon. It was the Star Child's turn to shrug. They were silent again, both staring at the Forest in front of them, watching it breathe. Blake was silent for a moment longer, then he looked at the Prince again.
"What kind of poison is Bloodstone?"
"An expensive one." Kid answered, eyebrows furrowed. "It's Ghoul's blood, hardened into stone, then ground into a fine powder, or paste. It's not easy to obtain, and even harder to apply to a weapon without poisoning yourself. I've only ever seen a Bloodstone once. My mother's sister, she's a well established apothecary, and she was gifted some by a traveling ambassador from the Eastern Kingdom. He had told her it cost him nearly half of his life savings, and he had only received maybe three pebble sized stones. He gave my aunt one, and last I saw, it was gathering dust on a shelf in her workshop."
"Hm. Your aunt hate you enough to kill you?"
"I don't believe so, no. Last time I saw her, she was rather kind." The Prince teased him back, and Blake was a little taken aback. The Prince didn't seem the kind to know how to have fun, or even understand the concept of sarcasm. Then again, Blake had heard the Queen was a bitingly blunt woman, even among royals.
The Hell Child screamed again, and Blake shuttered. "He took those arrows for you."
"No, I don't believe it was for me." The Prince's eyes were far away, looking back towards the distance of his castle. "The Hell Child doesn't care for my leadership style, he's made that clear. He wouldn't take an arrow, let alone two, for me. He did save me, but I believe it may have been for someone else."
"Everyone on this damned mission is here for someone else." Blake answered, and the Prince looked at him, narrowing his eyes.
"Do you wish to hate me? Is that what you want?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"I know who you are, and you know who I am. My father is the one who gave the order to slaughter your people. I can't imagine that fact isn't driving you insane as you are forced to sit here with me." Blake was quiet, he didn't want to talk about this with the Prince, or maybe even at all. The only ties to his murderous clan that he had was the scarring on his shoulder, and the weight of the hatred of the kingdom on his shoulders. Yet, that was his family, it had been his clan. Now, he had no one left. It was just him. "I can imagine your anger, but-"
"Do not justify this, not to me. I'm not your subject, I am your slave. I am here because you purchased me, like a damn bull for slaughter. You can recite your history lessons and your father's famous bloodlust, but you can't tell me that the destruction of my clan is something you're able to imagine. You may have known pain in your pampered life, but you don't know mine." Blake stood then, walking towards the other scattered cottages in the small village.
"Where are you going?"
"To find a blacksmith, we lost most of our weapons in that ambush, and I refuse to walk the Forest armed. I'm the last of the Star Clan, and I'll be damned if you're the one to lead me to my death."
She was not a healer.
Maka wasn't strong enough, she couldn't become a healer. Assisting the witch had stressed her more than she had ever thought possible, and the screams of the Hell Child had made her flinch. The witch, Celeste, had stayed completely calm, the blood and screams doing nothing to deter her from removing arrowheads and stitching flesh back together.
Once the wounds had thoroughly cleaned, then sealed, Celeste had turned to the Demon. "White rose petals, six of the moon plant seeds, and however many drops of blood you think you'll need." He nodded, and began mixing the ingredients together. Maka stood next to Soul, dimly realizing that there was a little more color in his face now, even if he looked more miserable then he had since being attacked. A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Maka met the witch's eyes. She smiled at her, then grabbed one of Maka's hands. "What happened to your wrists?"
"What?"
"Your wrists, what happened to them?" She asked again, and Maka followed her gaze down her arms. The skin around her wrists were bright red, and raw. There were dried blood in patches, and Maka furrowed her brows.
"I don't...I don't know? It's...Oh." She checked both her hands, then nodded. "It's from the rope, when I tried to escape, when we were first attacked. I think I pulled too hard."
"Rope?" Celeste questioned, and Maka blinked. Her vision was swam, and her limbs were suddenly heavy. Her knees shook, and suddenly the witch was holding her up. "Oh dear one, you've finally run out of fight in you, have you? Come with me." She held lead her towards the back of the cottage, and she turned back to the demon. "Make sure he drinks the whole thing, if we can get him through tonight, he'll be okay."
Together, Maka and Celeste made it to a small washroom. The witch waved a hand, and water flowed into a washbin from a hole in the wall. "...How?"
"I'm a nature witch," Celeste explained, gathering jars from a small closet. "I found a way to pull water into my home through the ground. It's not an easy spell, and I've destroyed this half of my home more than once, but when it works, it's wonderful. Strip." Maka began pulling off layers of clothes, suddenly painfully aware of the amount of dirt and grime sitting on top of her skin. When she was finally bare, Celeste gestured to the tub, and she got in.
"Cold!"
"What's this look like, a castle? We don't have warm water." Her tone was flat, but she did give Maka a grin, before settling down next to the tub. "Clean off, then I'll clean your wrists." Slowly, Maka did as she was told. They sat in silence for a few moments, fatigue sinking deeper and deeper into her limbs as Maka worked to wash the blood and sweat off of her.
"...Are you Soul's mother?"
The witch smiled again, taking one of Maka's hands so she could rub an oily paste around the rope burns. "I am."
"...Then...that demon…"
"Is his father. My husband, Alexander." Maka's face must've displayed her disbelief, because the witch laughed at her, and went back to cleaning her wound. "Does that surprise you? My son clearly looks like a Hell Child."
"I...I just...he's still here…"
"Alexander isn't a normal demon. Obviously. But he isn't a naturally born demon either. He became one, his soul used to be that of a human man, a few decades ago. He was a kind human, lived in that small village you passed through to get here. That was back when Dwellers were still attacking Humans regularly, after the Humans attempted to breach their lands the second time. I've lived here a very long time, and I've been a Healer, helping humans and Dwellers alike, and the village had quite enough of my neutral kindness, they sent a party to try and kill me."
"They didn't do a very good job." Maka chattered through her teeth, and Celeste laughed.
"Truly, they didn't. Alexander was in that party, and he just couldn't do it. I chased them all away, but he came back a few days later, this time, just to speak. I thought him full of cow shit, and chased him away again. I must've tried and chased him away at least a month before I realized he wasn't going to give up, so I invited him in for tea.
"It's...hard. To find good Humans, Especially this close to the Forest. Fear makes men cruel, but Alexander never seemed to fear the Dwellers, and he even helped me with a tree nymph who was having a difficult birth. He was a good Human, one of the best I think that I have ever met. But even the best of humans are just that. Human. A few years after I had met Alex, he was one of the thousands who caught that terrible Black Fever. I tried, and I used measure beyond what I would recommend for anyone else to try and save his life, but I lost that good Human. It took me a long time to face that, losing that man."
"You loved him?" Maka asked, her eyes drooping. Celeste nodded slowly, wrapping a clean linen bandage around Maka's wrist. She set the clean wrist on the edge of the washing bin, and reached for other hand.
"They let me bury him on the edge of my garden that wasn't in the Forest, and I mourned the loss of that man. I mourned him for years. Almost ten years I was without him. Then on a cold day in summer, there was a knocking on my door. Before me stands this great beast of a man with black hair and solid build. I saw his eyes flicker black, and I had damn near ripped his heart out before he could speak. Thank Gods Above and Below he was just barely faster than me. He was yelling at me, over and over, It's Alex, I'm Alex. I didn't believe him at first, of course. The Alexander I buried had been a lanky man, with a bright red beard and kind green eyes. The massive demon in my doorway looking nothing like him. But...it was Alexander. My Alexander."
"...How...could a man rise from the dead?"
"A man can't. A demon could. Alexander won't talk about it, but he fought his way from Hell. He found a way out. Those black markings on his arm, they go all the way up to his shoulder, they're scars, Dark magic is poisonous, and to pass through Hell means to trade away the purity in your soul, and it's replaced with darkness. Alexander is still Alexander, and he is still a good man, but he's no longer one of the light, he isn't like a true Demon, born from hatred. He was born from sacrifice. He doesn't answer to Demons, just to me." Celeste smiled again, carefully wiping the blood from Maka's wrists.
The young Dweller was silent as she thought about it. She knew very little of the workings of Hell, or it's magic, but she knew that Demons had all once been humans. Wicked souls, tainted beings that gave up their ties to humanity for power or lust, destruction, or revenge. Never had Maka considered a Demon to be born out of a love, or even a kindness. A man who stopped being a man so he could go home. It was more impressive than she wanted to admit, as Alexander didn't make her feel easy. There was something about about him that made her skin crawl, a primal feeling that pulsed along her magic.
"It sounds like a tall tale, something that couldn't possible happen." Celeste had started wrapping the second bandage around her wrist. "But as I live and breathe, that man came back to me. He came back to me, and he gave me children."
"Soul's sister. That's right." Maka's words sounded slurred, even to her, and Celeste tutted, standing so she could help Maka out of the washbin. The witch lead her away from the water, and wrapped her in a rough material.
"Dry yourself a little, and I'll fix you up a place to sleep. You deserve a rest. I thank you for your help treating my son. I don't have to tell you that my children are my world, and Soul deserves a much more peaceful death than this."
"I...I really didn't help much."
"Your hands were steady, that was all the help I needed. Thank you...oh, I'm afraid I don't know your name."
"Maka."
"Maka." Celeste tested the name on her tongue, then nodded. "You of the Forest?"
"Aye. My mother was a Dweller." Maka told her, wrapping herself tighter in the fabric. Once she had been dried off, Celeste lead her to a room off to the side of the washroom. There was a plain cot inside, and was decorated sparsely. Soul's mother grabbed a white shirt a few sizes too big for her, and put it in her hands. "Thank you."
"It's my sons, I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I imagine he owes you a bit of a debt now."
"He's running up a tab." Maka muttered, looking down at her wrists. "If he truly wants to repay me, he'll stop tying knots so tight." Celeste looked surprised, but Maka was easing herself down into the cot. "Thank you, for your kindness, and your water, and your bed."
"Sleep, and sleep well. I'll make sure the other two boys find rest as well."
The first thought Soul had once his eyes cracked open was about food.
The pain came next, blooming from his chest and traveling the length of his body. He sucked a breath in through clenched teeth, and fought the urge to curl into his side. A soft hand trailed the side of his face and he turned unfocused eyes to the source. His mother's face slowly came into focus, and he sighed, relaxing into the wood of her work table. "Welcome back, my darling."
"Ma." His voice was raw, throat burning with the effort. She shushed him, checking his eyes as he adjusted to the dim lighting of the kitchen. Only one candle was lit, telling him it was late in the evening, if not early in the morning.
"Give your body more time, the fact that you're alive amazes even me." She lifted his head so she could help him swallow some bitter tasting liquid, followed by a some water. "I have questions for you." He recognized that tone, and grimaced. She was pissed at him, but he didn't have a damn idea what exactly it was about this time. "You ride with a Royal, and with a Dweller. The Dweller has been bound, for what looks like weeks. How could you do that? The Forest-"
"Queen ordered me to catch her. I didn't know what for." He answered his mother truthfully, his voice not crackling anymore.
"The Queen is not your ruler."
"I have no choice." He whispered, closing his eyes again. The Hell Child had no desire to have this conversation, not now anyways, not like this. His mother was good, and she loved with everything she had. Lying to her was never his strong suit, but he was a man of his word, and he had given his word to only tell her what was necessary.
Although, what was necessary had changed as of recently, and he was going to have to be the one to tell his parents everything. His mother was moving around the kitchen, probably putting away the herbs he had just swallowed. "You should never treat a woman like that. Tied like an animal."
"She was non-compliant, and had attempted to escape-"
"Escape!" His mother's bitter laugh made him sigh, and he wished he had enough strength to throw his arm over his face. "Attempted an escape! How dare you be part of something like this! You've never been one for politics or power, yet now, you travel with prisoners and slaves!"
"Do you think your son so foolish he'd believe for a second that the Prince would be his ally? We're barely tolerated to exist. There's nothing keeping him from hanging me except his mission."
"Then why is he sleeping in my den, safe, and you're sitting here half dead."
Soul took a deep breath, and opened his eyes again. His mother was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. She genuinely looked angry with him, which didn't really surprise him. His mother was a special case among the Forest and the Villages. She would heal those who came to her for help, regardless of blood. The Dwellers respected her, and she had raised her children to respect them back. And for the Dweller he had disrespected to be a half blood, like himself? His mother was nearly sparking, she was so angry. "The Queen ordered me to get her a Dweller, someone who could walk the Forest freely, She knows I can't, the Forest barely tolerates me. She needed a Dweller. I found her one. I did believe that to be the end of it, but she came to me again, and demanded I follow her son into the Forest, something about retrieving a rune, I don't believe that story for a second. But I'm going."
"Why?"
"...They've arrested Wes, Ma. Under suspicion of attempting to poison the King."
Celeste's eyes went wide, then she sat down in a stool, next to Soul. She grabbed his hand, and squeezed. "What?!"
"...Wes...Wes fucked up. It's not good. I mean, you know she didn't hurt him, right? Wes wouldn't hurt him, she's…"
"I know. I just...they arrested her?! The King approved that?!"
"He's been recovering, he's still ill. I heard it was touch and go for a moment, but he's apparently recovering. I don't know if he knows, or if he does, maybe he hasn't been able to get her out but...she's in a cell. In the dark. They wouldn't let me see her either. I didn't know what else to do. Arachne is a fucking devil, and she made it clear if I wanted Wes to ever see the light again, I would complete this task."
His mother swore, her jaw clenching shut afterwards. She was silent for a few moments, eyes closed while she processed the information he had given her. "Your treatment of the Dweller-"
"I can't lose her. I can't let her get away. If I can't get the Prince and the Dweller back to the castle, they're going to hang Wes. Ma, I can't let that happen. Wes can't die, I can't let her die. Which means I can't lose the Dweller."
"What's the Dweller's name."
"Ma-"
"What is her name!?"
"Maka!" Soul growled it out, and closed his eyes again. "Her name is Maka. She...she's…"
"More than just Dweller. You can't stand being called at like a dog, you can't stand being addressed as Hell Child, and you can't stand injustice. I know you, you're my son. I won't let you treat her like that."
"But Wes-"
"You will find a way to save them both, Soul. And you will find a way to make her your comrade, not your prisoner." His mother's voice was sharp, "Or, I'm afraid you and the rest of your little party will find themselves abandoned in the middle of the Forest."
Soul was silent for a few moments, but he did finally nod. His mother had a point, and at this point, he owed the Dweller-Maka- a life debt. If Maka chose to forfeit his life in the Forest, then he wasn't sure anyone would fault her. "Wes-"
"Your sister is strong. She's of the Black Fire, and she will be waiting for you. She's keeping an eye on this, I'm sure. There's no way she doesn't know you're coming for her. You have to have more faith in her. Wes needs you to come back from the Forest, and you need Maka's favor to do that. I expect better from you, Soul. I won't be disappointed like this again."
"Yes Ma." He sighed. She made a noise in the back of her throat, but she leaned over to kiss his forehead, pushing his hair off his face.
"Besides, she saved my son. I quite like her."
The Queen's steps were always silent on the stairs down to the dungeons.
She had long since perfected perfect silence upon arrival, as it was the only way to ensure she would always have at least three seconds to survey the room before anyone would realize she had arrived. Arachne was the first to know about every little thing that happened in her castle and in her kingdom. Her web of spies was bountiful, and far reaching. Nothing happened that she didn't know about. Her husband had once appreciated such a valuable skill in a wife, but that had been many years ago. Long before the damn Hell Children had infested her castle.
It seemed she couldn't even walk ten feet in her own castle without running into one of those red eyed bastards. The boy was especially somber looking, but he was smart, he kept his distance from the royal family, despite wearing their sigal. The damned girl, she was the one that Arachne was absolutely finished with. Her presence had thrown the entire castle into Hell, and she wanted nothing more than to see the bitch hang in her garden, softly dancing in the wind.
She had just made herself so damn useful. A Hell Child that could pull the future to the present, who could see what may or may not be. How was a King supposed to pass up such a power? With a Hell Child in court that could see the consequences of actions not yet taken, a Royal family could rule with absolute power. No war would be unwinnable, no assassin would be able to hide from her. The Hell Child had been useful, even Arachne had admitted as much. And the Child's demands in exchange for her services hadn't been outrageous. She wanted her brother and mother spared from the rope. Sparing two Hell Children in exchange for the guarantee of an impenetrable kingdom. They would've been foolish to let her disappear into the squalor she was sure the demon children lived.
The girl had simply overstepped on Arachne's kindness, and for that, there would be punishment.
Arachne stopped in front of the third cell from the stairs, back straight as she looked down on the imprisoned Hell Child. Her dress was torn, and blackened. The Hell Child had tore away most of it, freeing her legs. Her long white hair had been sectioned off into various braids since she had been imprisoned, tied together with fabric from what used to be her sleeves. The Hell Child looked up at her, and smiled, her red eyes dark with satisfaction. "Hello again."
"Demon whore."
"I do wonder why you keep coming down here to visit me. Do you get worried I get lonely? I assure you, I'm not." The Hell Child's grin was sickeningly sweet, and Arachne took a breath.
"It's who else is visiting you that I'm curious about."
"You already know this answer, you don't need me to tell it to you."
"Oh, but isn't that what you do, Seer." Arachne spat the last word at her, and the Hell Child sat back against the wall of her cell.
"My name is Weslin."
"I'll call you Demon Whore if I so wish to address you." Arachne snarled and the damned Hell Child snickered at her, as though laughing at a joke. The very audacity of this child was enraging. She believed herself untouchable, with her mastery of the future. For a creature so young, she did have incredible power, but she wasn't untouchable. Her very presence in this cell told Arachne that. Her capture had only helped the Queen sleep at night.
"It didn't work, you know. I'm sure you'll get official word soon."
"I won't believe your false prophecy any longer."
Weslin looked up at her then, her cracked lips parted in a smile. "Majesty, when I have ever been wrong? You were warned how this would turn out, it isn't my fault if you chose not to listen to the future I present to you."
"You're an abomination from Hell, and it will be the greatest pleasure hanging you at my eldest son's birthday."
"They won't hang me. Not for a moment yet."
"That will not save you." Arachne snarled. "The world could do with less Hell Children anyways."
Wes chose to ignore her, instead, she scratched at her cheek and stared ahead. Arachne tried to swallow her rage, and kept her eyes on the Hell Child. Finally, the damned demon brat looked back over at her. "Do you care what you've sacrificed for this?"
"I've done what a good Queen would do."
"You've never been a good Queen, let's not pretend you give a damn about that now. I can see what you plan, I'm just not sure why. That's the funniest part of my blood, I think. I can see paths that stem from actions, again and again, I can track what action and inaction cause, but I've never been able to see motive. I don't know why people do things. Why Kings go to war, why mothers kill their children, why wives murder their husbands." The Hell Child's dark eyes were on Arachne's again, but this time there was no mirth. She stared at the Queen as though her eyes had the power to take life. "But I've found time and time again that motive isn't what matters, it's just an idle curiosity I've taken up. What does matter, is timing. And Majesty, no matter what you plot, or pen or plan, I will always be one step ahead of you."
"You are a menace, I'm glad you've found your home behind these bars."
"I won't be here long." Wes' voice was smooth, like a promise and a threat rolled into a single dreamy phase. Against the Queen's better judgement, she began to feel rage bubbling up from underneath her skin. Oh, how she despised the way this creature made her act. The self righteous bitch needed to be reminded who ran this kingdom, and who lived only because the other decreed it so.
"Maybe so, but you're here now. And I do so wish to introduce you to my dearest confidant, and younger sister." From behind Arachne, Medusa made herself known. Her slitted eyes were narrowed as she took in the huddled form of the Hell Child, her grin becoming wicked. Her younger sister had a strange obsession with the bastards of Hell, but it was no concern of Arachne's. Wes' face paled when she realized who stood behind the Queen, and it brought her a small amount of joy.
Good, the child still remembered what fear felt like.
"To leave such scars on my pretty skin." Wes sighed, looking at the two women, her eyes glazed over in silver as she was shown the future presented for her. "How the King repays each indecency to me against your own fingers, Royal Apothecary."
Arachne considered that carefully. Her husband's recovery went well, and it wouldn't be long before he took his special interest in this case. Her window of time continued to count down against her own carefully laid plans. Revenge against the Hell Child who would so publicly come to shame her if she were allowed to continue her path. "Dear sister, you may play to your heart's delight, so long as no mark is left against the girl, and no harm come to the life she continues to fester inside her. It is my order and decree as your elder sister and your Queen."
Medusa shrugged, leaning against the bars of her cells. "There is still plenty I wish to learn about their powers, and hers interest me greatly. I can occupy my time with that."
Wes only grinned at the two women, finally turning to face them. "Is it to be mind games then? I can't wait."
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