Chapter Two
Two days after their heart-to-heart found the wagon joining the foot traffic into the city of Heartsvale. High hills ringed the valley of the city like sentries, and from the center of the wood-and-brick buildings rose a massive stone castle that shimmered in the haze of smoke rising from the city.
Willow stood up in the wagon's seat to get a better look at the sight she'd only ever heard about, drawing her short cloak tighter to make sure her furled wings were covered. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
"Yeah, just wait until you see the inside," Hunter groused.
When they reached the city gates, Hunter only had to flash his badge and the guards kowtowed and welcomed him with much enthusiasm. He smirked at that and flicked the reins to get the cart moving, his own horse guiding Willow's along a path well-known to them both.
Soon enough, the castle was before them, and Willow was gazing up at its gargoyle-strewn heights with her mouth hanging open. Then she settled, shivered, and drew in on herself. Hunter took her hand in support, though he was surprised at her sudden reaction. "Willow?" he prodded gently.
"It's like the castle down below," Willow whispered, her voice breaking.
Hunter blinked and thought about that. From the little she'd spoken of it, it was clear that Willow's time in her birthplace, however long that had been, had been anything and everything but pleasant. To the point where being summoned for a lifetime of "service" to a perverted conjurer had been a step up. And that was before she had freed herself.
"You don't have to go in," he assured her, taking her hands and giving a comforting squeeze. "I'll go fill out the paperwork and bring out what you need to sign."
Willow looked up and into his level gaze, her eyes wide. She looked down at their joined hands and back up to the castle heights … and her gaze hardened. "No." She stood and hopped down to the cobblestones. "I have to do this. It's just a building, I can do this."
Hunter watched her carefully before shrugging and letting himself down. After tying the horses to a metal post, he donned his coat, hat, and kerchief and placed a hand behind Willow's back to guide her along. He passed her another kerchief that she tied over her hair to hide it, which she took and used without comment. They entered the castle through a smaller side entrance emblazoned with an inverted triangle and wandered the halls, Hunter seeming to know exactly where they were going as they passed barracks, kitchens, and containment cells, until they reached a large set of double doors carved with a massive sigil of the Shining Sun, an inverted triangle impaled by a downward-pointing winged sword.
Hunter pushed open the doors to reveal what looked like a combination open-floor library and armory. Bookshelves full to bursting lined the walls and racks of weapons and tools lay in ordered spots all through the floor space. Tables with men and women dressed like Hunter were covered in books, weapons, and paper as they discussed facets of missions and monsters.
"Hey-hey, Wittebane's back!" someone shouted, and the room erupted into quick but vibrant cheers.
"What's all this?" Willow whispered in Hunter's ear.
"I may have the best record for my age in the Corps," he said. "It's made me," he paused and seemed to gag, "popular."
Willow giggled behind her hand and followed along, tucking a stray lock of hair back into her kerchief. She continued to smile as Hunter was greeted by everyone they passed, only briefly waving back and his posture growing steadily tenser as they kept moving.
After some time, they finally made it to an alcove labelled "Dawnbreaker Registration." Hunter whispered to Willow to take a seat at a table before he spoke with the attendant. She glanced around curiously at all of the agents in the large room, none of whom looked exactly alike even with their identical uniforms.
After a few moments of watching, she seemed to catch the eye of an objectively handsome man, who grinned and made a kissing face at her. Her lip curled as she blushed and looked away, just missing how the agent's woman partner elbowed him in the ribs with an unimpressed look.
"You okay?" Hunter asked as he returned with a stack of papers.
"Fine," Willow said with a strained smile. "Nothing I'm not used to." During her first few years on Earth as she learned under her mentor, she'd had trouble containing her power when she was hungry or emotional. And that had led to a lot of unwelcome attention.
Hunter regarded her steadily before relaxing and sitting in the chair beside her, spreading the papers out and explaining what they were. There were forms on what kind of specimen she was - what she could do - to report how they had met - what she did for a living before - Hunter was to give his recommendation for her appointment - Willow to write about why she wanted to be appointed - terms of partnership - a release form for relatives upon her death - her opinions on how she could be effective - Hunter's opinions on the same ... It seemed never ending until they actually reached the end.
"Okay," Hunter sighed, "that's the last one … and two hours we're not getting back." He brushed his gloved fingers over the back of her hand and rose to return the papers for filing. She smiled at that and watched him as he spoke with the attendant again before he returned and offered a hand to help her from her chair, which she took with a wry look, to guide her back out of the headquarters.
The way back was uneventful … until the very last minute. The tromp of armored boots echoed through the courtyard where their wagon was parked and figures in steel armor and white surcoats wielding spears surrounded them. Their weapons were not leveled, but the men seemed tense and ready for action. Hunter stepped protectively in front of Willow, even if the men at their back made it something of an empty gesture.
After a few moments, the guards parted on one side to allow the approach of a tall figure in elaborate white and gold robes, clutching a long, spear-like scepter and his face hidden behind an intimidating, anterled, golden mask. A small creature that Willow recognized as a kikimora — a minor kind of demoness who held sway over crops and households — dressed in a white surcoat of her own, approached at his heel.
"All kneel," the kikimora announced in a high, carrying voice, "before King Belos of Rasmos!" Hunter fell to one knee and gently tugged a stunned Willow down as well.
"Arise, Hunter Wittebane … and your companion," Belos said in an unnervingly cold, blaise voice. "I see you have brought a turncoat into our fold."
"She has proven her strength and determination without question," Hunter replied, folding his hands behind his back as Willow clutched hers before her waist, looking down and trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
"Without question," Belos repeated with a clear air of doubt. "Welcome back to the castle," he held a gauntleted hand to shake, "Nephew."
Hunter looked from the gauntlet ro the king's mask with thoughtful eyes before taking the proffered hand. "It's good to be back, though I won't be staying long … Uncle." He held a hand behind Willow's waist. "This is my new companion, once the paperwork is sorted." Willow curtsied and offered a hand of her own with a sweet, if forced, smile. Belos did not move to take it, merely taking a breath through his nose.
"I smell sulphur on you, child," he said coldly. Willow swallowed and couldn't help but curl in on herself as the kikimora giggled maliciously.
"Give the lord and myself some room," Belos called, his voice not needing to be raised. The guards retreated into a larger circle and the kikimora snapped her fingers at Willow and gestured for her to follow. Willow looked at Hunter with wide eyes, but he grimaced and nodded, trying to ease her worries with a warm look. Willow glanced at Belos and followed the little demon.
"I read your report on the succubus incident," Belos informed him. The Shining Sun believed strongly in communication, and so had for decades used a kind of enchanted paper to create self-propelled reports that resisted tearing, water, and sun damage while flying to the nearest Corps outpost, where a scrying witch would make the report to the headquarters. "And word travels quickly when you return, especially when you are accompanied by quite a fetching young woman." He said so without inflection, merely stating what he had heard. "It was not hard to piece together."
Hunter said nothing.
"How certain are you, Lord Hunter, that it is wise to move forward with this? To place your wellbeing in the hands of a creature that feeds as she does?"
"She proved herself in the heat of battle," Hunter said smoothly. "She saved my life."
"From one of her own kind," Belos replied evenly.
"Whom she helped me locate and fight from the moment I met her," Hunter emphasized.
Belos was silent for a moment before he glanced around. Then he planted his scepter in the cobblestones and removed his mask, bearing an aged face with three thick scars from the corner of his forehead to the opposite corner of his jaw. "She is a demoness, Hunter, who feeds on vitality through emotion. And you will be alone for much of your time together," he said reasonably. "She may turn on you at any moment."
"Yours hasn't," Hunter said snidely, glancing at Belos's kikimora — who had long taken the oh so creative title of "Kikimora" — who was pointedly ignoring Willow and seemed sharply focused on their conversation. "We all know how crazy that one is about you."
Belos blinked and huffed the faintest laugh. "Touche," he said before placing his free hand on Hunter's shoulder. "Very well, Nephew, I will interfere no more than ensuring your request is accepted." Then his grip tightened and his faint smile turned into a neutral mask. "But know that you will be partners in the field. And should you be killed on her watch, a bounty the likes of which have not been seen in decades will be placed upon her head." He replaced his mask. "Am I understood?"
Hunter's eye twitched as he fought to keep a neutral expression. "Yes," he hissed.
"Good," Belos said intently before releasing him. He took up his scepter and snapped his fingers to summon Kikimora and the guards before turning to reenter the castle. "Good luck, Wittebane," he called. "And to you, too, Miss Willow."
The doors closed behind the procession with a deep boom.
After a few moments, the two unhitched the horses and were on their way in complete silence, both thinking about what had just happened. Hunter steered the wagon to an inn he was familiar with and passed it onto a stablehand before taking the lead inside. Before they entered, Hunter glanced back and noticed the reins were slack in the stableman's hand as he eyed Willow with a blush. Then he glanced at Hunter, and his murderous glare, and hastily got back to work.
After signing in for a room for the night — the room would be charged to the castle and the Corps, and it would be nice to sleep in a different bed for a change — Hunter led the way to the nearest market square. Then it was Willow's turn to lead as she pursued the stands for food and various odds and ends for the wagon, including seeds for the herbs that she grew.
Hunter mostly spent this time making sure Willow didn't get robbed or pickpocketed, his knowledge of cloth and domestic matters … sadly limited. Willow had been trying to change that, but it was slow-going.
"So, what did the king say?" Willow asked on their way back to the inn. "Also, did I mishear, or did he call you 'nephew'?"
Hunter scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's my so-many-times-removed uncle. I, uh, may be a minor lord with a holding in the north? Centuries of political marriages mean most noble houses are related somehow, not that it keeps them from tring to backstab each other." That last part was spoken bitterly. "Anyway, we're both descended from a distant House that encouraged serving the Corps, and Belos's branch ended up on the throne. Belos actually was a member himself years ago."
Willow considered this and pursed her lips. "So, I'm guessing he wasn't thrilled about his distant nephew working closely with a demon," she said.
"Most of our House has been killed by demons," Hunter explained. "Belos and I are all that is left of the line. They're a … particular trigger for him."
"But what about that kikimora?" Willow asked. "She served him, I could feel her devotion radiating off of her."
"She's a dubious exception," Hunter said. "The story goes that Belos's final mission before he was crowned king involved leading the charge against a warlock that got too big of a head and raised a small army to try and take over Rasmos territory by territory. Belos killed the guy himself, ran him through with his broadsword. Kikimora was an abused servant and turned her loyalty over to her former master's killer, starting with mauling a demon who tried to assassinate him right after the deed was done. He decided to try it out and she's served with … psychotic loyalty ever since."
Willow hummed in thought. She couldn't help but draw parallels to that story and how she and Hunter had met, even if he hadn't killed her summoner. They had saved each other's lives, though, and that had deepened their devotion to each other. She wondered briefly if it was a demon thing, to develop such loyalty to one who saved them. Then she brushed it off as a coincidence.
After a few more hours, they returned to the inn, Willow carrying parcels of her seeds and Hunter carrying everything else. Willow glanced at him with dubious concern, but he shook his head and shouldered the packages more comfortably. She smiled and kissed his cheek before leading the way to her wagon to drop them off and then back into the inn.
They made it in time for the establishment's dinner and were treated to roast boar with carrots and potatoes, all of it warm, tender, and slathered with herbs and butter. Both were enjoying the food, almost as much as the fact that they hadn't prepared it, and dug in with relish.
An hour later they were headed to their room for the night, both silently eager to sleep in the same bed.
After Boscha's demise and Willow's decision to join Hunter, they'd spent a week in Jonesborough as Willow made preparations, informed her clients, made last-minute medicine deliveries, and overall said goodbye to her hometown of sixteen years. In that week, Hunter had willingly slept on the couch.
But as they had rolled out of Jonesborough and made camp for the first time, Willow had insisted he sleep in a real bed. And as the wagon was snug enough without adding another, her own would have to do. Willow had been pink-cheeked as she said it, and Hunter had joined her as he considered the implications. He was a lord, if a minor one, and had been raised with the idea of propriety before his parents' deaths.
That first night had been awkward as they tried to stay as far away from each other as they could on such a small bed. Over the next few nights they had relaxed a bit, their shoulders even touching a little. The following week had left them too tired to care about propriety and they had even held hands in their sleep. And finally, in the last nine or ten nights, they had cuddled with their arms around each other. Willow's hunger had not caused problems and neither of their hormones had done so either. Teenagers they may not be, but Willow counted her time on Earth as her age, leaving her at twenty or so, and Hunter was only two years older than that.
But it had been innocent, chaste even. Just simple intimacy and comfort with each other. Even with an undercurrent of strong physical attraction, they had come to care about one another too much to let it ruin them.
And with that comfort around each other, Hunter had without thinking asked for a room with a single bed. As they made their way into the room, both were thinking about how soft it all looked.
Hunter stripped down to his trousers, his back turned so that Willow could change into her sleeveless, knee-length nightgown. When he'd first seen her sleepwear, it had almost given him a nosebleed. Her shift was loose enough for the neckline to display her ample cleavage, and bared her back to her waist! To allow her wings freedom as she slept, but still. Now … it still made him blush, but warmly. And who was he to judge when he himself slept shirtless?
A tap at his shoulder brought him back to the present and he turned to find Willow smiling at his discretion, as she had every night since the first. His eyes were almost drawn downward to her bosom but he focused and instead looked at her small, bat-like wings that were usually clasped against the skin of her back.
"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" he asked.
"You could stand to mention it more," Willow replied with a flirty smile. Her hands twitched with the urge to place them against his chest and feel the muscles there, but she resisted. There would be plenty of time for that throughout the rest of the night.
They settled into the clean sheets, Hunter with his back against the wall and his arms around Willow's waist from behind. Willow pouted at not feeling his muscled chest in her hands, but decided that the feeling of his arms around her was more than enough consolation. After she snuffed out their candle, Hunter brushed her hair backward and kissed the side of her neck. "Good night," he whispered.
"Good night," she whispered back with a smile.
"Now focus on the person you want to See," Eda instructed her apprentice.
Edalyn Clawthorne, the eccentric and powerful Owl Lady, stood with her arms crossed as she carefully watched her apprentice. Luz had started her training in magic and witch lore later than most at sixteen — and though she learned fast, she was still behind most of her contemporaries at her age of twenty.
At the moment, Eda was starting Luz's first practical lesson in scrying, using a specialized potion in her cauldron as a medium. Sufficiently skilled scryers and oracles could use crystal balls, mirrors, or even bowls of pure water to See distant events, communicate with others, or even receive visions of the future. But as Luz was a beginner only just starting to develop her foresight, they started with something as easy as could be.
Which meant starting with distant Sight.
"You got it, Eda," Luz said with fire in her eyes before placing the fingertips against one another and taking rhythmatic breaths to calm her mind and spirit. They'd been practicing that since Luz's first official lesson and she'd made great progress. But oracular magic was another beast entirely in regards to focus and stillness of mind. This would be a real challenge for the energetic apprentice with a general attention span like a squirrel.
Luz half-opened her eyes and stared into the depths of the cauldron and its bubbling purple contents. After some time, an image began to form on its surface and spread like fire. Eda raised her eyebrows in surprise. Luz had gotten it on her first try?! Well, she was getting it, anyway. That … was very impressive, especially given her occasional focus issues.
The image continued to deepen, color swirling into it, until it resolved into an image of two people in the room of an inn. Eda smirked at the sight of them, recognizing both as Willow, their friendly neighborhood succubus Luz had adopted, and that Huntsman that Luz had helped once and become at least friendly with. 'Hunter,' she recalled snidely. What an uncreative name for one of his Corpsmen.
Both were dressing for the day, casting glances at each other that just screamed twitterpated.
'Sleep well?' Willow asked, stretching languidly in a way that emphasized her curves. Had it been anyone else, Eda wouldn't have been sure if that had been intentional — knowing Willow, it was unconscious and just came naturally.
'Yeah,' Hunter replied, strapping on his sword belt. 'You?'
Willow hummed in reply as she settled her spectacles, her gaze lingering on Hunter before she turned away to lace her dress; not that it needed much lacing with most of the back cut away to allow her wings to breathe. Which in turn let him get an eyeful of her before he turned away with a blush and small, bashful smile.
"Ugh," Eda groaned. "This is what you pick for your first knock at scrying? Really?"
"They're my friends," Luz defended, her tone distant as she kept up her focus. "I want to check in on them."
"Or you're just nosy," Eda snarked. Luz had gotten a letter two weeks ago from Willow. Not at all uncommon, but its contents certainly had been. Willow was leaving Jonesborough with Hunter as his soon-to-be official hunting partner. She'd told the story about how they had met and why she'd decided on it, and Luz had been absolutely over the moon.
"Do you know what this means, Eda?" she'd asked. "Two attractive, single people together in close quarters with frequent high-risk situations? They're gonna fall in love!" She squealed into a pillow for five minutes straight before calming down a little.
"Maybe a little," Luz admitted, blinking as she came back to herself and letting the potion settle again. "But mostly it's because I care." She opened her mouth to add more, but grimaced and clutched her head with a pained grunt. "Gah, my head!"
"Yeah, scrying works the mind in a way different from anything else," Eda said, one fist on her hip. "It's like building any other muscle. Meaning lots of pain."
"You couldn't have told me that before?" Luz said through teeth gritted against her migraine.
"It would have distracted you," she said with a grin. "Can't have that, now can we?" She cackled. "Don't worry, it'll go away in a minute. Go sit down and relax, that'll help."
As Luz settled against the couch, she was able to comment wryly, "I don't suppose the other effects will go away?" Magic, the harnessing of the unnatural powers of the cosmos directed by one's mind and force of will, was not for the faint of heart among humanity. It was just as difficult as it sounded, if not more so, and learning it caused any number of effects as one's physicality adjusted to said cosmic forces, resulting in a personalized combination of exhaustion, headaches, sore muscles, nausea, stomach cramps, and any other general sign of mishealth.
And as you continued to learn, train, and develop your skills, those things never truly went away, only narrowed down and lessened with experience. Eda herself often went to bed bone-weary after using excessive magic.
Owlbert, her owl familiar, hooted a moment before the chimes at her door rang to announce a visitor, Luz whimpering at even the pleasant tinkling sound. Eda opened the front door of her house, the Owl House many called it, to find the local herbalist Morton at her door, her unofficial liaison with the local town of Gravesfield.
"Hey, Eda," Morton said, tipping the funnel he wore as a hat.
"Morton," Eda greeted, glancing to the side as a cue.
"There's word of a pack of dire wolves east of town," Morton said, a bit louder than strictly necessary. "The townsfolk were hoping you could handle it."
"My apprentice is sleeping off a new working," Eda said. "Luz?"
"Go," Luz groaned. "I'll survive. I think."
A meow from King settled the matter. "I'll be back soon." Eda cast her arm out into the living room to summon her staff, the top carved in the likeness of Owlbert, and snatched it out of the air before twirling it with muscle-memoried flair and shutting the door. "Thanks for coming back later," Eda whispered. "I'll make sure the pack's wiped out and burn the carcasses. Otherwise, Luz would be begging to come and she's not ready to handle dire wolves yet."
Morton nodded. He knew a little of dire wolves — massive, shadowy creatures that fed upon fear of other creatures, killed indiscriminately, and were very hard to kill in turn. Hence calling upon the Owl Lady, one of the most powerful sorceresses in the nation of Rasmos. Or any surrounding nation, for that matter.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Morton asked. "We" meaning the townsfolk of Gravesfield.
"You still have that recipe for sulphur venom I gave you?" Eda asked, frivolity gone in the face of her upcoming task. Morton nodded, eyes wider. "Whip up as much as you can." She tapped the heel of her staff to the ground, the owl carving's wings spreading. "I may need it after this is over."
With that, she mounted her staff and flew away into the distance.
Chapter 2 is here. A little more world building and set up for the coming plot. *Many thanks to EldrichRaven (of Of Balanced Stones andBroken Cage, Binding Chains fame) and Therma for helping me refine world building throughout this story!
*In this AU, Belos really is a distant cousin who takes something of an interest in his only remaining family. He's not an abusive monster, but he may or may not be up to something.
*Kikimora really is the term for an imp;like creature from Slavic folklore analogous to a house spirit.
*Hunter's noble house is a small one with a small holding that he rarely visits, preferring to leave it in the care of a family friend.
*For the purposes of this AU, Eda is not cursed. King is a cat, Hooty is the spirit of the Owl House rather than a house demon in the door, and Owlbert is an actual owl while staffs are non-sapient.
*Luz's sudden flair for scrying is based on a few small instances in canon. When she used a crystal ball in "The First Day," she got it to work and even received a very short prophecy that immediately came true - and in "Keeping Up A-Fear-Ances" she was able to use tea leaves to get a reading, even if it didn't tell her anything. *For the sake of this AU, Luz has some talent for oracular magic. This may be important later.
*The use of magic in this AU is heavily influenced by Jim Butcher's The Dresden Files. Everyone can use some magic with the right training and lots of practice, but everyone has different talents and a relative minority can actually be good at it. It involves harnessing and manipulating powerful cosmic forces and can be dangerous when used improperly. Demon magic is very different from human magic and cannot be taught to humans, just as human magic cannot be taught to demons.
I hope everyone has enjoyed this second chapter! If you liked it or have questions or insights, leave a review! I always enjoy reading them. May your inspiration flow freely!