Chapter originally published on 31/08/2023


Chapter 8

It doesn't matter

Amity and Hunter try to unveil William's secrets with the help of Flapjack, but they won't be the ones to expose him or get him in trouble.


Amity was the first to wake up the next morning. Looking at her left, she saw Hunter sprawled on his bed, still asleep; she guessed that now that he didn't have to wake up early for his duties as the Golden Guard, he was taking the opportunity to get some well-needed rest.

Turning her head to her right, she was welcomed with the perplexing sight of William lying on the windowsill with his back against the jamb.

She got off the bed and walked to him to have a better look. He was still passed out, with his head leaning against the window. Judging by his now noticeable eyebags, he mustn't have slept much. Amity was tempted to wake him up and get him out of that awkward position, but hesitated, mindful of what happened the last time she tried to touch him while asleep.

Instead, she took another look at his exposed earring. Just as she thought, there were really tiny incisions on its surface. She quietly went back to her belongings to retrieve her chocker. She gave it a thorough scan, until she found what she was looking for. On its inner side, there were engraved a series of small symbols, the same she saw in William's gauntlet… and on his earring.

I knew it, she thought, frowning.

At that same moment, William began to stir and groan, startling her. She hastily put away the chocker and turned around to face the awakening titanid. He was now seated on the windowsill, running a hand through his unkempt hair and rubbing his tired eyes with a disgruntled expression; he looked quite disheveled, even more so than usual.

"Good morning, William," she greeted him with a small smile. Better to play along for now.

"Good morning my ass," he grumbled rudely as he stood up, stretching his back until some popping noises were heard. When he saw the scowl she was giving him, he became aware of his impolite reply and looked away sheepishly. "Uhm, forgive my rudeness. I didn't sleep well."

"Yeah, that's what usually happens when you try to sleep with your face against a window," she quipped.

He pursued his lips, grunting some unintelligible curse under his breath.

"Why were you sleeping there in the first place?"

"Uhm, too many thoughts in my head. I needed to distract myself with something, even just the look of the city at night," he muttered, before giving a glance at the end of the room; Hunter was still asleep, while Flapjack was perched on one of the bedposts of his bed.

"Glad that at least someone is getting his rest," he commented sarcastically.

"Do I need to wake him up?"

"Nah, let him sleep," he waved dismissively at her. "You two weren't going anywhere anyways."

She frowned. "If it's for yesterday—"

"After yesterday," he interrupted her, "it's better if you stay here. I'll take care of retrieving your documents from Hardmod."

She crossed her arms, peeved by being ordered to stay in the inn. "What, are you grounding us?"

"No, I'm just trying to keep you out of unnecessary trouble," he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation—it was too early in the morning for this. "Just… let me handle things until we leave the city, okay?"

She pouted and turned her head away, but not enough to impede her to give him a wary look. She was debating if to confront him about his apparently false identity, but ultimately relented.

"Very well," seeing as she seemed to not have anything else to say about her "grounding", he nodded and walked to his bag, but not before giving her one last glance. "I, uhm, I'll be on my way, then."


After a quick breakfast, William left the inn to reach Hardmod's shop. Before he went off, Amity watched him put on all his equipment, including his armor and gauntlet. He justified it as a precaution in case he would cross path with a possessed like it happened to her.

With all the ruckus the demonic attack from yesterday caused, him going around the city fully prepared for battle wouldn't look too much out of place. It wasn't like he was the only mercenary in all of Türzumeer; during her stroll she saw some armed people, and even a few simple citizens carrying small daggers. She even thought to have seen someone carrying what resembled a training wand from back home, but she wasn't completely sure. She guessed that if demons were unsuspectingly walking among your peers, you'd like to be ready to at least try to put up some form of self-defense.

Hunter woke up shortly after, and was briefly informed of William's plan for the day by Amity. She told him of her findings about William's earring, asking him to check on his ring; he seemed skeptical, but agreed nonetheless to have a look at it. Effectively, albeit barely visible, there were small inscriptions on its inner face.

"I… can't deny it, Blight," he frowned, annoyed that he was proven wrong. "If you say his earring has these same symbols, then it must be a glamour."

Amity allowed herself a quick self-satisfied smirk, before her look darkened. "We have to settle this with him when he gets back."

"Glad you're finally agreeing with me that we shouldn't have trusted him from the beginning."

"I'm not, we still could use his help," she argued, "but we should clear up what his deal is."

"You think he's going to sell us to those templar folks?"

"Doubt it," she shook her head. "You saw his reaction yesterday—there seems to be bad blood between them."

Hunter nodded and looked away with a pensive frown. "As much I don't trust him, we still don't have anything else on him, though."

"Then we should keep an eye on him with Flapjack."

Hunter crossed his arms, leveling a disapproving frown at Amity for suggesting to use him again. "Don't push it, Blight. He's not your little slave."

"I'd ask Ghost too to help us if someone didn't make me drop her," she narrowed her eyes at him, recalling their battle at Eclipse Lake.

Hunter didn't understand at first, but then he realized she was talking about her cat palisman. "Well, it's not my fault you have butterfingers, Blight," he joked, smirking snottily at her.

Amity curled her hand into fists and barred her teeth in irritation. "Want those butterfingers on your teeth, Golden Brat?"

"Hup-hup-hup," he raised his index finger to her mouth, smirking. "No hurting me, remember? It's part of the oath."

She slapped his fingers away and groaned at his annoying smugness. Flapjack, who had been listening to their exchange from his spot on the bedpost, glided near the two bickering witches, drawing their attention with a few chirps.

"What? Don't tell me you agree with her?" Hunter lamented, surprised to see Flapjack side with the Blight girl. The little traitor.

This time, it was Amity's turn to smile triumphally. "See? He's okay with it. He already did it yesterday, after all."

"Y-yeah, but I was with him all the time!" he blurted out.

Flapjack rolled his eyes and tweeted again at his owner.

"I know, but…" Hunter trailed off, nervously focusing on the scar on his palisman's left eye. "I just don't want something bad to happen to you."

Amity inched closer to him with a kinder demeanor, her animosity towards him subdued. "Hunter, I understand you worry for Flapjack, but he's stuck here just like us. He wants to help and do his part too."

As Amity spoke those words, Hunter gave a long stare at her, before glancing at the red cardinal palisman.

"Yeah, maybe I'm worrying over nothing," he conceded with a small smile. "Besides, something tells me our Lil' Rascal here has been through a lot of adventures in his life. This should be easy-peasy for him."

Flapjack chirped happily at him and flew on his shoulder, receiving a small scratch under his beak. Amity leaned on the palisman, smiling.

"Can you do this for us, Flapjack?"

The palisman chirped in affirmation, mimicking a "salute" with his wing. Finally convinced, Hunter went to the window, instructing him to follow William and report to them whatever he saw, just like yesterday. With that said, he opened the window and let him fly away.

Amity walked to Hunter's side, looking at Flapjack flying away in the distance, before glancing at him.

"You know, it's kinda sweet how you two look after each other," she said with a gentle smile, "it's not something that I'd expect from someone like you."

Hunter glanced briefly at her with a perplexed expression and a small blush, something between bashfulness from her first comment and irritation at her successive jab.

"Uh, t-thanks, I guess?" he replied awkwardly, before recollecting himself and turning to the open window. "For being a wild magic creature, I'm actually happy to have him around." As he pronounced those words, he furrowed his brows, showing a pang of regret. "Uhm, sorry for before."

Amity turned to him, confused. "For what?"

"For what I said about dropping your palisman," he said without facing her. "Now that I have him… I'm beginning to understand why losing one would be a big deal."

Her eyes slightly widened in surprise at his apologies. She was tempted to add something, but ultimately decided to accept his words as they were, simply giving him another smile.


It took a while, but William finally managed to reach Hardmod's shop. He had to take many deviations to avoid patrols of Weitebian guardsmen. They wouldn't have been a problem by themselves, if they weren't led by templar knights. Every time he spotted one of the white-clad soldiers coming his way, he would change his course in a heartbeat. He suspected that since the demonic attack from yesterday, they were ordered to scour the city in search for more possessed. Fortunately, no knights seemed present at the gates of the inner city when he had to pass through.

He was now in the forger's office, listening absentmindedly to his tale.

"…And then she had the audacity to turn around and walk away without even saying a word. Can you believe that?"

William didn't respond. He bobbed his head, as if to give him a weak nod, his eyes unfocused, his mind elsewhere.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Again, no response. Hardmod's words never fully reached their destination. His mind was clouded in a thick shroud, the only thing passing through being the venomous whispering of a certain malicious entity. Filtered by this fog, the forger's words were reduced to a background noise.

An annoying… grating… infuriating background noise.

It was unbearable.

We can make it stop.

Get rid of him.

We don't need him anymore.

…Yes. He didn't need him anymore. If he died, maybe the noise would die too. He would kill the noise…

I would…kill… the noise…

…No. I… don't want to…

It's the only way.

…Shut up.

I know you want it.

Shut up!

"William?"

William was brought back to reality, startled by a hand touching his shoulder. Hardmod had closed in on him, worried by his irresponsiveness.

"Are you there?"

William blinked a few times to regain clarity, and looked at him with a clueless expression.

"W-wha?"

"Is everything alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Uhm, y-yeah, yeah," he replied nervously, before rubbing one of his eyes and run a hand on his messy hair.

"You sure? You kinda creeped me out."

"I'm just… in debt of some hours of sleep, that's all."

"Fancy way to say you always stay up late," joked Hardmod.

William hummed something unintelligible under his breath, before recomposing himself to face Hardmod with a more serious expression.

"So…" he cleared his voice, "are the IDs ready or what?"

Hardmod stared blankly at him. "What IDs?"

"What do you—the IDs!" William faltered at his reply. "The ones that I commissioned you yesterday."

Hardmod kept staring at him, until his face lit up.

"Oh riiight, the IDs," he remembered, smiling mischievously, "the IDs you asked me to make, the IDs made specifically for your two kids, Willy's kids' IDs."

As he went on, William adopted an increasingly annoyed look.

"Uhm, those IDs?"

"Yes!" he exclaimed exasperatedly, barely holding himself from throttling him. "Those IDs!"

Hardmod winked and grinned at him. "Gotcha covered!"

Without missing a beat, he went to one of the nearby file cabinets to retrieve the documents. After rummaging a bit, he turned around and tossed on the desk two small booklets with a dark red hard cover.

After giving Hardmod one last glare, William took them in his hands to inspect them. Next to their personal information there were the portraits of Hunter and Amity, together with the fake names they agreed to use: Caleb Jasper Bloodwilliams and Amelia Whitman.

"They have magical encryptions as usual, right?" he asked, raising his gaze to Hardmod.

"Yup," he nodded, "and not only that, but I took the liberty to add some neat features."

"Like what?"

"Like customizable info and portraits. Just put them in front of you, say some key words and these bad boys will do the rest."

"Uh, amazing," William uttered in awe, giving an impressed look at the two booklets.

"If I do say so myself, these are my latest masterpieces," he proclaimed proudly, while handing him a small piece of paper with all the instructions to use them. "Courtesy of my brother too, of course."

"Hardmod…" William was left stunned by such generosity; it was way more that he had hope to get. "I-I don't know what to say."

"Usually it's 'thank you'."

"Yeah, I know, but all this—and just in one day too!" he exclaimed, flabbergasted. "It's too much, you didn't need to go out of your way over a simple favor."

Hardmod scoffed at his words. "Nonsense. When I said 'anything for friends of Little Willy' I meant it."

William stared at him for a few moments, before smiling gratefully.

"Besides," Hardmod went on, "I thought it could come in handy for your two witch kids."

The smile on William's face immediately vanished as he froze at his off-handed comment.

"What did you say?" he slowly muttered, eyes widened in shock.

"C'mon, William," Hardmod huffed, smiling smugly, "did ya really think I wouldn't notice?"

William stared nervously at the forger, inadvertently making a step back and bringing his right hand closer to his dagger's handle.

"How did you—?"

"The blood samples," he simply stated. "The usual blood encryption procedures didn't work, that's how I found out I wasn't dealing with titanids." He briefly looked away with a frown as he remembered a detail. "For some reason, the boy's blood's been particularly hard to deal with even with the enchantments reserved for witches. Wonder why…"

That last detail wasn't completely registered by William, too shocked by the fact that their cover had been blown off so easily. He knew Hunter and Amity were witches thanks to their blood samples? But… if he could see it through the blood, then he knew about…

Oh no.

You sure you don't want to get rid of him?

Shut up!

He knows too much.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

"Are you—" William gulped nervously, a feeling of dread crushing on him. "What are you going to do? W-will you tell on us?"

Hardmod blinked and stared at him for a while, surprised by his question, before he burst out laughing.

"Ya serious?" he said while trying to reign in his laughter. "Why'd I do that?"

"Huh?"

"Relax, Willy. I'm never gonna rat on you and your kids," he reassured him, before he adopted a more serious expression. "Everyone has their little secrets, and it's not my business as long as I get paid for my work."

William eased up a little, but wasn't completely sure of how much he knew about him.

"So, all this time you knew I'm—"

Hardmod rose a hand and shook his head, stopping him on his track.

"What I know about you didn't matter to me back then, and it doesn't now," he stated, before smiling playfully. "Don't you think you'd have noticed by now if I had a problem with it?"

William relaxed, faintly blushing in embarrassment as he realized he had been fretting over nothing. Judging by his words and demeanor, Hardmod clearly didn't know everything, and was glad he didn't want to pry further. Speaking of secrets, there was something Williams had always wondered about him.

"Can I… ask you something?" At his nod, he went on. "Why you took me in back then? You had no obligations towards a stranger like me."

At his question, Hardmod looked away, his expression uncharacteristically longing and sorrowful as he reminisced the past.

"When I stumbled upon you all those years ago, you were just a lost and scared young man. It… felt the right thing to do, and…" He trailed off, for then face him with a sad smile. "You reminded me of someone very important to me… someone that's not here anymore."

William was left nonplussed by his revelation, surprised to witness this part of him for the first time since they had known each other. Perhaps he misjudged him; there was more to him than just the annoying jokester he had learned to know.

"Hardmod…" he began tentatively, shuffling uncomfortably in his position, before recollecting himself. "Thank you. Not just for the IDs, but for everything."

At his silence, William continued.

"You accepted me in your house and shop without questioning my past, motives or… nature, only asking me to work for you in return," he recounted. "So, yeah… I wanted to give my thanks to you."

"What's with all this gloominess?" Hardmod chuckled, bemused by his sudden gratefulness; gone was the forlorn aura from before. "You talk like you're gonna die tomorrow."

"Please, don't jinx it," William deadpanned. "It's just that…" he held his nape, looking away with a crestfallen expression. "There's a high chance you won't see me again, so… I wanted to express my gratitude before I'd leave the kingdom. That's all."

Hardmod was slightly taken aback by his solemn tone, but given the nature of his two young fellow travelers and where he said they wanted to go, he was beginning to get a clearer idea of what their actual plan was.

"I see," he slightly bowed his head in sadness. "I guess this is a true goodbye, then."

William nodded, extending an open hand in front of him. "I'm afraid so."

Hardmod took his hand and firmly shook it, but just like he did yesterday, he surprised him by going further and hugging him. William stiffened at the sudden gesture, but then reciprocated it.

"Take care, young man," Hardmod whispered in his ears while still hugging him.

After letting go of each other, William put the IDs and the instruction in his pants' pockets and walked to the exit accompanied by Hardmod. Glancing on the various books on the shelves, his eye randomly fell on a particular brown tome, prompting him to stop on his tracks. He grabbed it, giving a quick look at its cover, before turning to Hardmod.

"You had a book in Albionic, after all."

"Lemme see," Hardmod took it from him to give it a look. "Oh, this one. It's an old edition, I found it by chance under a pile o' junk."

"Do you mind if I take it with me?"

"No, as long as you pay for it."

William was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't let him take it for free as a parting gift, but he guessed it was fair; he had already did enough for him.

"Alright, how much?"

"That'd be ten silvies."

"Really? Ten silver shillings?" William raised an eyebrow; was he really going to make him pay that much for an old book? "And for a friend?"

"Hmm," Hardmod mimicked a pensive pose, before looking at William with a deadpan. "Twelve silvies."

William stood motionless for a few moments with a dumbfounded expression, before groaning and rolling his eyes.

"I take everything back," he grumbled while reaching for the purse on his belt, "you're the worst."

"Hey, it was you who said I should focus more on my main business like a goody-two-shoes," he replied cheekily. "I even came up with an idea that could dramatically boost my sales."

"And that would be?"

"Imagine, what if instead of making people come to my shop to buy books I, say, take their orders through an ethervox call and deliver them to their houses?"

"Like a postal service… but for books?" William guessed tentatively, skeptically rising an eyebrow. "I don't know, sounds like you'd need a lot of people to make it work."

"And lots of money to pay them, so…" Hardmod presented him his open palm. "Gimme my twelve silvies, c'mon."

William shook his head and huffed in annoyance as he begrudgingly put the silver coins in his hand. Satisfied, Hardmod nodded and gave him the book.

"See? It wasn't that hard."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," muttered 'Willy' as he put the tome under his arm and walked to the entrance door. After he reached it and opened it, he stopped in the doorway, turning just enough to give Hardmod one last look above his shoulder.

"Try to stay away from trouble," he smirked, "I won't be here to save your sorry butt."

"Ain't gonna promise anything," replied Hardmod, winking and smirking as well. "Been a pleasure doin' business with ya, Lil' Willy."

Shaking his head in amusement, William finally left the bookstore.


Hunter was laying on his bed, grumpily staring at the ceiling. To be precise, he was worried, bored, and irritated, not necessarily in this order: worried for his palisman going solo on a mission; bored because all he could do was wait for them to return; irritated because he felt it was a waste of time.

He glanced to his right, where the Blight girl was slowly walking back and forth across the room. By her expression, he could tell she was feeling the same. He didn't understand why she didn't confront that William guy this morning. Was it because apart for the symbols thing they didn't have other proofs against him? Or because she would have had to face him alone while he was still asleep?

He grimaced as he thought back at his failure to wake up early as usual; back in the Emperor's Castle, he would have been reprimanded for this disciplinary slip-up. He had to admit it was nice to sleep a little more in the morning for once without fearing consequences. Maybe if he stopped being part of the Emperor's Coven, it could become a common occurrence…

He rose from the bed with a start, shaking his head to shoo away those intrusive thoughts. Where did they come from? Serving Belos and the Coven was all that mattered in his life; there was nothing else for him out there. Or was it…?

He had to distract himself with something; boredom was clearly making him think silly things. While he aimlessly strolled across the room, his gaze fell on William's bag lying on the floor besides his bed. There was his distraction.

"Blight?" he called, making her turn to his direction.

"Let's check what he's got there," he proposed, pointing to the man's bag, "maybe there's something that could tell us more about our mysterious escort."

Amity followed the direction of his finger, spotting their guardian's belongings, frowning disapprovingly at what he was suggesting to do.

"Maybe we shouldn't snoop into his stuff."

"Says the creepy girl that stares at people sleeping," he quipped while he knelt down to reach for the bag.

That's not—!" her cheeks flared up, pouting indignantly at his accusation. "Oh, you're not going to let me live it down, are you?"

"Nope."

He gently opened the bag, but didn't immediately begin to rummage through its content; instead, he slightly moved to the side and glanced invitingly at Amity over his shoulder.

"You want to give it a look or what?"

Amity thought about it for a moment, before audibly sighing and making her way beside Hunter.

"Just so you know, I'm doing this only to make sure you don't accidentally break anything."


Flapjack had been flying non-stop from rooftop to rooftop, trying to locate the horned man that was guiding his master and the lavender-haired girl through this foreign world. He expected to find him on the direct route to the bookshop, but he seemed to have vanished. Seeing as he was just flying aimlessly, he went straight to said store, hoping to find him there.

There was something strange about that horned man, but he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was. He seemed amicable enough, but sometimes he would catch him zone off or stare at them with an eerily blank expression, either like he wasn't there or was trying to look directly at their souls.

It wasn't just the man that was strange, though; the world too seemed different from the Demon Realm. It was the magic in the air that baffled him the most: it felt familiar, and yet alien at the same time. Being a palisman, a creature based on magic, he had a special connection to the mystical force, even more than your average witch or demon. Here, in the Titan Realm, there were times where he would perceive a sort of… hostility in the magic, and feel dizzy and weak afterwards. So far it hadn't been anything particularly grave, so he didn't tell anything to Hunter to not make him worry, but it was certainly a disturbing occurrence, something he had never faced in the Demon Realm.

After waiting for what was probably almost an hour perched on a balcony, Flapjack saw William leave the bookstore across the street and head in the direction of the inn, so he took off to follow him.

The horned man kept changing direction, seemingly trying to avoid the armed men in teal and white whenever they showed up. He heard him saying that those in white were enemies, so that would explain his maneuvers around the streets and alleys of the city.

What it didn't explain was his apparent sickness. As he dragged himself through the city, Flapjack noticed how he looked increasingly pale, fidgety and wobbly, almost like he was going to pass out at any moment. Now that he thought about it, in the last few days he looked increasingly tired and distressed. Perhaps he was suffering the same symptoms he had been faintly experiencing?

When they reached the gates to the outer city, he had to halt on his track when he spotted two white knights standing there with more teal guardsmen. From his point of view, Flapjack noticed the scowl on the man's face as he turned on his heels and took another direction. He made a beeline to a nearby alley between two buildings that ran along the walls, and kneeled before a rusty and partially broken iron grate. The metallic protection groaned as William opened it. After being sure that nobody saw him, he slid inside the aperture in the ground, closing the grate as he descended in the depths of the city.

Flapjack glided from above, landing next to the iron grate to inspect it. It looked old, with a hole between the rusty bars big enough for him to go through. By the sureness with which he headed towards it, it seemed the horned man knew very well of this apparent secret passage. Without further ado, Flapjack jumped into the hole.


William trudged through the dark and damp tunnels of the sewers; the light coming from the occasional drains was scarce, but sufficient for him to advance. When he still lived in Türzumeer, Hardmod revealed the existence of this secret passage to him when he needed to go in and out of the inner city without passing through the gates. He told him it was part of an old sewage system that nobody bothered to close while the construction of the walls went underway. Fortunately for him, it remained forgotten up to these days.

The more he ventured through the tunnels, the more the memories of them came back. The stench surely remained the same, unfortunately, but that wasn't his top concern at the moment. His "sickness" was worsening at an alarming rate; he felt like his chest was burning and his head splitting in two. He had almost lost control back at Hardmod's, and he could feel his "urges" becoming more difficult to reign in.

He dragged himself through the sewers for a while, unaware that a certain magical bird was tailing him. William's hard breathing, the constant trickling sounds and his relatively small size helped Flapjack with not being heard while he scampered behind him.

Before coming out the corner of two intersecting tunnels, a drop of dirty water trickled down from the ceiling and fell straight on Flapjack's eyes. Taken by surprise, the palisman let out a short squeak.

Hearing that out-of-place sound, William froze. Then, he sharply turned around, raising his gauntlet and summoning a small orb of light to illuminate the section of the tunnel that was behind him. His gaze moved around to spot the source of that noise, finding nothing. Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he gave one last look at the tunnel and resumed his march.

As he heard William walking away, Flapjack let out a quiet sigh of. When he peeked around the corner, his eyes widened at what he saw, or rather, didn't: William was gone!

He scurried into the open, squinting to spot the mercenary, but finding only darkness; he must have snuffed out the orb of light produced by his gauntlet. What was even stranger, though, was the relative silence; there was no way William could have advanced so much and so quickly through the tunnel to leave him behind. He either took a branching tunnel… or he was hiding.

Flapjack advanced cautiously through the passage. He was about to step into an even less illuminated zone, when an undefined shape emerged from a hidden recess, followed by a white glow.

"Gotcha!"

Flapjack cried as he suddenly felt cold. A block of ice sprouted into existence in the tunnel, spreading around and trapping the unfortunate palisman within it. William's armored left hand was still raised, its glow changing to a more yellowish hue as he summoned another orb of light to get a look of his pursuer.

"Alright, who are you and—huh?"

William looked at the mini-iceberg that was now blocking the way, finding no one encased in it. When he heard something resembling a pained whine coming from below, he lowered his gaze and gasped in surprise at what he saw.

"Little Red?"

The poor creature weakly replied with a tweet, trembling as the ice covered almost completely his small body; only the head and a wing were left unscathed by the spell.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, putting down the tome and kneeling before him. Casting a low-intensity fire spell, he began to thaw the ice around the palisman with the warm touch of his gauntlet.

"Why did you leave the inn? Were you following me?"

Flapjack looked nervously at him as he was gently scooped out of the melting ice.

William stared at the palisman in his left hand; at his silence, his expression darkened as he realized the implication of him being there in the sewers.

"You were spying on me, weren't you?"

"Oh, he sure was~"

William felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and neck. Briefly turning his head to the right, he noticed Not-William standing beside him, smirking darkly at Flapjack.

"See? It didn't take long for them to stop trusting you," the doppelgänger added haughtily, leaning against William to whisper into his ear. "And they sent their pet bird to do the dirty work. How rude of them~"

William's gaze darted between his double and the palisman in his palm, a strange gleam filling his eyes as his lips twitched and his right hand clenched into a fist.

"They betrayed you."

"They… betrayed… me," William muttered under his breath. Flapjack tensed up at the horned man's glare and tone, but what weirded him out the most was how he kept glancing at his right, almost like there was someone else there with them.

"And they should pay for it," Not-Williams proposed, smiling devilishly, "starting with him."

Like poison, those words intoxicated William's mind, a ghost of a smirk beginning to creep on his mouth.

Yes… they should… pay… He should… pay…

He looked hungrily at the magical red bird in his left palm. It would be so simple to take his life. All he had to do was close his fingers around his little body… and squeeze.

No…

"No?" Not-William turned to his original and cocked an eyebrow, surprised by his refusal.

No… what am I doing?

Flapjack saw William's head twitch along with his eyes and mouth, like he was trying to free himself from an imaginary hold.

I don't… I don't want this!

Suddenly, William pursued his lips and shut his eyelids, clutching his head with both hands and forcing Flapjack to take off. The palisman hovered in mid-air, watching William hunch and groan in pain for a few moments, until whatever was afflicting him finally subdued.

Flapjack landed behind him, cautiously chirping at him to get his attention. William straightened up with a start and sharply turned around to face him. Despite the darkness of the tunnel, Flapjack made out the mortified and guilty expression on the man's face.

"Flapjack…" he muttered meekly, lowering his hands from his head.

The cardinal palisman eyed him warily. This wasn't the first time he had seen William suffer from headaches during their short time together, but it had never been so intense. Furthermore, there was something unsettling about the way he had looked at him, like a predator staring down at his prey.

William noticed the distrustful look on the palisman head, and refrained from getting closer to put him at ease. Biting his lips, he looked away in shame and regret; he ruined everything, didn't he? He let him exploit a moment of weakness and distress and take control of him at the worst time. Time to do some damage control.

"I'm… sorry, Little Red," he said, kneeling down to the palisman.

Flapjack stared at him, silently listening to what he had to say.

"When I found out you were following me, I let, uhm… my anger get the best of me," he admitted, placing a hand on his heart. "Forgive me if I gave the impression of desiring to hurt you… and for accidentally freezing you, I suppose."

Flapjack chirped curtly to accept his apologies. However, he didn't sound completely convinced, especially after how he had acted earlier.

"Speaking of which… why are you here in the first place?" inquired William, narrowing his eyes at the palisman. "It's because of them, isn't it?"

Flapjack remained silent.

"They don't trust me," he stated, anticipating Flapjack's potential reply, "and they think I'm planning something behind their backs. That's why they sent you to spy on me."

Flapjack hesitated, but eventually nodded in affirmation. He had been already been spotted, and William had already figured it out; there was no reason to hide it at this point.

William bowed his head and let out a resigned sigh. It wasn't like he blamed them for being wary of him; on the contrary, he kind of commended them for not blindly trusting a stranger like him. He probably would have done the same if he were in their shoes.

"Any reason in particular that induced all this distrust?"

Flapjack tweeted back, pointing a wing at his left ear.

"My… earring?" he sounded surprised, touching it with his hand.

Flapjack shortly explained how Amity discovered the symbols on her chocker and his gauntlet, and their resemblance to those on his earring. William put a hand on his chin in thought, replaying on his mind the events of the last days; his eyes widened in realization when he recalled the morning Amity tried to touch his earring while he was about to wake up.

Oh… right. That must've been it. Damnit.

William grimaced and wanted to repeatedly smack himself for letting his guard down so stupidly. No wonder they put two and two together and unveiled his secret.

"Heh," he shook his head in defeat, yet smiling, "clever kids."

Seeing as he had basically admitted it, Flapjack tentatively asked him the reasons for using a glamour.

"I have to do it, Little Red," he sighed sadly. "There are people out there that want me dead or would hurt me if they knew, uhm, who I am."

Flapjack caught a little hesitation in that last sentence and chirped again, pressing on it; William wasn't budging, though.

"Who I really am doesn't matter to our mission, and it's none of your business anyways," he replied irritably, narrowing his eyes at the palisman and focusing in particular on his scar on the left eye. "You seem quite old for being a palisman. I bet you too have many stories and secrets, hmm?"

Flapjack stiffened, caught by surprise by his sudden rebuttal. Sure, there were some things about his past and his original owners that he preferred to keep for himself. And what was that bit about being "quite old" for a palisman? Bat Queen was said to have lived for thousands of years; he wasn't that old.

That silence from the cardinal palisman was all William needed to know he had hit the spot.

"Just as I thought." He rose to his feet and prepared to resume his march through the sewers, but not before giving one last glance at Flapjack.

"Come on, birdie. Let's get back to the surface. This place stinks."


After navigating through more tunnels, William and Flapjack reemerged from a manhole in the industrial district of the outer city. Fortunately, there wasn't many people around, so it was easier for William to keep the cardinal palisman hidden under his cloak… and not to be spotted while he argued with him.

"I told you. Who I am doesn't concern you," grumbled William.

Flapjack had been pestering him non-stop about it, arguing that hiding things from Amity and Hunter would have inevitably led them to not trust him. Even now, perched on the book held by William under his left arm, he was quietly tweeting him.

"If you really want to know, it's the Templars I'm hiding from for the most part. They have it with me because of… uhm… something about me that doesn't sit well with them."

Flapjack asked him what was that about, but William shook his head.

"I can't—look, you and your witch friends wouldn't understand. You're not from this world."

Flapjack insisted, arguing that Amity and Hunter would be more trusting and collaborative if he stopped being so secretive about himself, even more so now that they knew he was hiding something form them.

William sighed in defeat. There was some merit in his reasoning; he needed them to trust him, even just enough to let him come with them to the Demon Realm. He didn't even have to reveal everything, just enough "crumbles" of truth to get them off of him for a while.

William brought up a hand to his temple as his headache flared up again. As pain and heaviness spread through his head, like a helm pulled by an invisible hand, his line of thought took a darker path. It didn't need to be this way. He didn't have to deal with those two brats and their feathery pet. There was an easier route… one that involved the spilling of witch blood. After all, he needed only the key…

I only need… the key… not them…

William blinked and shook his head, as if to shoo away that invasive thought. They were just kids, children he had sworn to protect and guide back home. What was he thinking?

Damnit, keep it together.

Glancing up from his hiding spot, Flapjack noticed William wincing and running a hand through over his face and through his messy hair. Mindful of what had happened earlier in the sewers, Flapjack tweeted at him, asking about his current condition and his apparent difficulties.

"It's just an annoying headache," William tried to reassure him, smiling nervously. "I get migraines from time to time. Nothing to worry about."

Flapjack wasn't entirely convinced about the "nothing to worry about" part; he sounded and looked distressed and tired, like he was under great fatigue. He chirped again, going back on topic.

"I know, it's just…" huffed William, glancing sideways with a concerned look. "I'm just worried of what they would think of me." He let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. "How pathetic of me, fretting about the judgement of two brats."

Flapjack squeaked indignantly at the insult aimed at Hunter and Amity.

"Sorry, sorry," he sighed tiredly. "Guess I'm going to… submit myself to their interrogation, then."

After a while, they reached an area with a few abandoned warehouses, not much distant from the inn. William was strolling through an alley, when the headache from before came back at full force. He stumbled, making him drop his book and forcing Flapjack to take off. He leaned against a nearby wall, clutching his head with both hands, gritting his teeth and groaning in pain. His normally black earring seemed to faintly glow red.

How dare you resist me?

William's eyes were wide open and twitching, the words of his doppelgänger cutting through his mind like an incandescent knife.

"F-Flap… jack…" he weakly called through his clenched teeth.

How dare you deny me?

"G-go to… the inn. B-bring the others, and—" he groaned in pain as another twinge hit him. "M-my bag. Among the healing potions… there's a flask with a… a gold plate."

Flapjack wasn't very enthusiastic about leaving him alone in that state, but didn't have the chance to express his doubts as William rudely swatted him away.

"Go!" he shouted, his face twisted into something between rage and suffering. "Please!"

Readjusting himself in mid-air, Flapjack gave one last worried look at William, before he flew away to the inn.

William dragged himself along the wall, his head heavy and burning. As if it wasn't enough, his chest too began to ache.

Do you think you can do as you please? You lost that right a long time ago.

"S-screw you!"

With great effort, he pushed himself away from the wall, wobbling in the middle of the alley to resume his march to the inn.

William glanced over his shoulders, spotting the book he had dropped before. It pained him to leave it behind, but he was barely able to stand up; he couldn't afford to waste energies. Good thing there was no one around to see him in his state.

"Ah! Nonsense!"

Then, as if on cue, he heard a voice coming from behind the corner. When he saw who the voice belonged to, he felt his heart drop.

Oh, godsdamnit…


"So… how does it feel, Sir Milivoj?"

The question came from a young Weitebian guardsman, most likely in his late teenage years, while the receiver of his inquiry was Sir Milivoj, a templar knight that was leading him and three more guardsmen around the industrial boroughs of Türzumeer.

"Stop bothering him with your questions, Ivan," spoke an older guardsman slightly behind Ivan and the templar.

"I-I'm sorry, Sergeant," replied sheepishly Ivan.

"No, it's alright, it's only natural to be curious," reassured Milivoj. "I'd be curious too if I were to work for the first time with a Templar Knight," he chuckled to himself at his remark.

The sergeant grumbled under his breath, but refrained from saying more.

"As for you question, young Ivan, welcoming the light of the Goddess within yourself is… quite the experience."

Ivan looked expectantly at the knight. "How so?"

"It's like a warm presence, a fire that gives you strength, protection and guidance," he said passionately. "It truly feels like having a fragment of the Mother's spirit inside you."

The young guardsman listened in awe at the knight's tale, while one of the two soldiers in the rear row leaned to the other with a smirk on his face.

"I'd rather have a piece of me inside his mother, if you know what I mean", he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows.

The other soldier snickered at the crude allusion of his comrade. They thought the clanking noises of their armor would have covered their whispering, but they ended up on the receiving end of their superior's harsh glare.

"You got something funny to share with us, soldiers?"

"N-no, Sergeant," gulped the first soldier.

"Not at all, sir," replied the other.

Ivan and Milivoj were too engrossed in their conversation to listen to the others' joke and the sergeant reprimanding them.

"Our recruiting campaign is still ongoing. The Order's always in need of enthusiastic young men like you, especially now that your kingdom has opened diplomatic relations with us."

"I-I'd be honored, sir, but…" he briefly looked away, unsure. "I've been on effective service in the City Watch for just a few months. I'm not sure how someone like me could contribute to your cause."

"Ah! Nonsense!" the knight loudly scoffed at Ivan's insecurity, giving him a "light" smack on the shoulder that almost managed to make him stumble and trip to the ground.

"S-sir?"

"Listen, uhm… Ivan, was it?" Milivoj addressed him as they turned around the corner of an abandoned warehouse. "Many commoners like you started as lowly soldiers, but through dedication, hard work and resolve they climbed the ladder and ascended to knighthood. You understand what I'm saying?"

"I-I think I do, sir," replied Ivan, lowering his gaze with a frown. "I enrolled in the City Watch, but I've always dreamed to become a demon hunter, especially after some of my close relatives were killed by the marmoreans."

"I'm sorry to hear of your loss, young man," the knight nodded solemnly. "The doors of Order are always open for someone willing to put their life at risk for the weak and the innocents. And I see that someone in you."

Ivan raised his head to meet Milivoj's gaze. Emboldened by the knight's words, a newfound determination to follow his dreams burned in his eyes, something that didn't go unnoticed by the templar.

"Now that's the spirit!" beamed Milivoj, gently putting a hand on the young man's shoulder. As he did that, his gaze briefly met with a man on the other side of the alley that was walking—more like wobbling—in the opposite direction. He was probably a mercenary by the look of it—a drunk one, given his uncertain footing and stepping.

As they went on to their ways, they broke eye contact, but Milivoj couldn't help but notice the look of abject distress on the mercenary's face… almost like he was afraid of them. Now that he thought about it, he looked familiar. Where did he see that face?

After a few more steps, a feeling of dread and coldness ran through his body and mind, a signal that the Light of the Goddess was acting up. Remembering his training, he knew it meant the enemy was very close.

Milivoj stopped on his tracks, bringing up a fist to signal the other soldiers with him to stop as well.

"What is it?" asked tensely the sergeant, aware that their leader stopping abruptly like that only meant that trouble was on their way.

The knight slowly turned to the retreating form of the drunk mercenary, frowning at him.

"Sergeant, the posters," he quietly asked to the official, who swiftly handed him a series of rolled-up flyers. Quickly skimming through them, he picked up the poster he was searching for, one with a rough portrait of a man looking a lot like William.

The knight smirked and returned the posters to the sergeant.

"Gentlemen, prepare for combat," he whispered, before he began to follow the mercenary with the guardsmen in tow.

The knight approached his target at a leisurely pace, seeing as he had basically stopped to lean on a nearby wall to clutch his head.

"Excuse me, good man," he called to him with a flippant tone, "you seem to have some difficulties."

The 'good man' in question stopped on his track and slowly turned around, giving the knight a strained smile.

"I-it's alright, sir. Just a bad hangover," William replied sheepishly, dismissively waving a hand and forcing a chuckle. "Too much booze last night, y-you know?"

"I can imagine," the knight nodded amusedly, smirking at his obvious lie. As he got closer, the "tingling" he had felt before became more intense. The face matched the poster too. It was him, and that meant them could be nearby.

Distracted by his conversation with the young Weitebian guardsman, he had failed to sense his presence before they crossed each other's path. Milivoj could have secretly followed him to their hideout, but now it was too late; had they tried to do that now, the guy would have led them astray to protect the two witches.

"N-now, if you don't mind," continued William, trying to get out of there as soon as possible, "I must return to my house and face the wrath of my spouse. I'm sure you know how these things plays out."

He turned around and began to walk away, but Milivoj had other plans. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it at William.

"Who are you trying to fool, demon?"

An eerie silence descended into the alley as Milivoj let out that word. William had since stopped on his track and silently froze in place, head slightly bowed to the ground before him and no reply coming from him.

"Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you and the stench of your malice?" the knight sneered.

The guardsmen imitated their leader and unsheathed their own blades, cautiously making their way around an unresponsive William, surrounding him from all sides. The sergeant, instead of a sword, brought out what looked like a pointy metallic truncheon that looked a lot like the training wands used in the Boiling Isles. Ivan gulped, the hand holding his sword trembling with fear and anticipation. This was his first time facing a possessed, someone that had forsaken titanidkind in the pursuit of power and chaos.

William stood still for a while, until he straightened himself and began to slowly turn around to face Milivoj. A thin plume of smoke was rising from underneath his hair, right where his earring was located.

"Oh no, you got me. What am I going to do now?" he mockingly lamented, yet with no humor in his voice. When he fully turned around, the knight, Ivan and the sergeant weren't facing a bumbling drunkard, but a cold and baleful man.

"Vanishing from existence is the only thing monsters like you should do!" Milivoj replied boisterously, before he switched to another language, one that William recognized immediately. "But as much I'd like to bring the novelty of your death to the Grand Master, it's your two witch friends that I'm looking for."

The Weitebian guardsmen glanced briefly at each other, unsure of why the templar knight would suddenly stop speaking in Gutar. William, on the other hand, seemed mostly unaffected; the only visible reaction from him was one of his eyebrows slightly raising.

"Tell me where they're hiding, demon," ordered Milivoj, again in William's language, "and I'll let you run away, so you can go back to the hole you crawled out of after all these years."

William let his gaze wander aimlessly as he listened disinterestedly to the living nuisance before him, his ramblings not worthy of his attention. As if he wouldn't backpedal on his deal at the first chance.

Useless idiot.

At least now he knew that somehow the templars were aware of the existence of the two brats. But how?

It doesn't matter now.

A certain presence manifested again in William's mind, further poisoning his thoughts and drowning his mind in a familiar haze.

"Yes… it doesn't… matter…" muttered William, unbothered by the weirded out looks he was receiving by the men around him. They didn't matter too.

Sir Milivoj scoffed, displeased by the lack of "collaboration" of the possessed before him. He might have failed at finding the two witches, but at least he would gift the Council of Thirteens with the death of a long-time fugitive of the Order. The fame that would follow it could even make him a potential candidate for the title of Grand Master in the upcoming election.

"Then you shall perish," announced Milivoj, this time in Gutar, "like the rest of your lineage!"

William's seemingly uncaring look settled on the knight in white. It sounded like the idiotic nuisance was opposing him. Did he want to fight? Was he challenging him? Maybe he was more than a nuisance. An obstacle, perhaps? Yes… an obstacle. Nuisances were annoying and loathsome, but obstacles? He hated them. Obstacles didn't deserve to exist. Obstacles had to die.

What about the others?

His gaze briefly moved to the young Weitebian soldier on the knight's right, then to the older officer on his left. Their weapons were ready to be used against him. Two nuisances. He could sense more guardsmen behind him. Four nuisances. They seemed hostile too. Were they obstacles as well? Better be sure.

"You, Weitebians."

Already nervous, Ivan was startled by the possessed addressing him.

"I don't care about you… but you're in my way," he spoke in a slow and eerie tone, not bothering to look directly at them. "You either leave… or die with the bastard in white."

The two soldiers behind him glanced at each other, seemingly considering his offer. They were simple City Watchers, after all; they weren't paid enough to deal with this demonic crap.

Despite his fear, Ivan seemed to have taken offence at William's suggestion. He didn't spend the last months of his life training and working in the City Watch only to run away like a spineless coward at the first real battle; he was going to prove his valor.

"No chance, fiend!" he snarled, mustering the courage to oppose William. "I became a guardsman to protect the innocents from scum like you. I won't back away!"

"Stay calm, Ivan," the sergeant reprimanded him, before eyeing the other two. "No one's going to flee on my watch, am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" the other guardsmen replied in unison after their initial indecision.

"Spoken like true defenders of titanidkind," the knight smiled smugly, never taking his sight off of the possessed before him.

Seeing as the Weitebian guardsmen wouldn't step aside, William closed his eyelids and took a deep breath.

"Oh… well…" he muttered, bowing his head and slightly spreading his arms open.

Both his hands began to be enveloped in a red aura that slowly crept up the rest of his arms, prompting the soldiers to took their stances in anticipation for the incoming battle.

When he raised his head, his mouth was stretched into a wide, unhinged grin, his eyes wide open, their irises burning red with demonic energy.

"You'll die too, then."


Author's Notes

It's already been more than a year since I published the first chapter of this story. Time sure flies.

The original version of this chapter would have been way longer, but I encountered some difficulties in writing the events of the second half, then I got sidetracked by personal and family matters, so… my bad. Since it's already been more than two months since I posted an update, I decided to split the original chapter in two to give you something to read in the meantime.

I must confess that I really, really would've liked to publish this story as a comic. There are many scenes that I believe would've worked way better if they were drawn. Too bad I don't know how to draw, have the time to learn.

[FF] To "Guest": no, I cannot see the future, not yet. I'm just using the DD/MM/YYYY format, so it means chapter 7 was published on the 10th of June 2023.

Until next time.