pt.2 your hand was was the one i reached for

Isabela sighed and wiped at her brow, dropping out of her relevé, bringing her feet together into fifth position, one foot put at an angle facing the door, the other at another angle facing the window, but touching at the toes of the first and heel of the second. The long mirror in front of her closet was coming in handy as she did her ballet exercises in her room, there was a matching one in Luz's room, which according to Luz was how she first met Vee.

Isabela brought her left leg up, her knee pointing out and her toes connected to her other knee. Isabela then stretched her leg in front of her while rising to stand on her toes on her right. She balanced her hand on the rail of her bunk bed, turning her leg around by the hip so that it was raised behind her. She lifted it higher, her torso lowering down the higher her leg went up. Isabela let go of the railing, hoping her balance was enough that she could stay standing, and she smiled as she did so.

"Isabela!"

Isabela let out a shriek of surprise and fell onto the ground in a puddle of limbs. She looked up to see Hunter in the doorway, grimacing apologetically.

"Sorry," Hunter said. Isabela waved him off and came back up to stand, reaching for where her phone was on the dresser.

"You're good," Isabela insisted. "Shoulda shut the door if I didn't want to be disrupted."

Hunter still looked unsure, rubbing his arm and staring down at his feet. Isabela frowned, walking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder. He peeked up at her nervously.

"Hunter, really, it's fine," Isabela reiterated. It had only been a month and a half since they were back in the human realm, only a few days longer that Hunter left his uncle's care. He was still learning and unlearning many things about life outside of the palace, outside of the care of his uncle. It seemed that Belos had hated being interrupted and bothered, so every time he interrupted something, they always had to remind him that they weren't angry with him.

Hunter hesitated and then seemed to take in what she was saying as truth, as he dropped his arm to his side and gave her a curious look.

"What were you doing?" Hunter asked. Flapjack chirped on Hunter's shoulder and flew over to where Algernon was napping on Isabela's pillow.

"Oh, I was just practicing ballet," Isabela breezed, and then remembered that they did not have ballet on the Boiling Isles when Hunter gave her a confused look. "It's a performance art. You make certain movements with your body to tell a story, usually it's paired with music."

"Sounds fun," Hunter said. He looked down at her feet and raised a brow. "I'm guessing these strange shoes have something to do with it."

"These are my pointe shoes," Isabela continued to explain. "There are multiple types of ballet, and I practice en pointe. It requires a special type of shoe, which allows me to balance on the top of toes."

To demonstrate, Isabela placed her feet in second position – placed about a foot apart and toes facing outward – and dropped into a demi plie, lowering her body at the knees slightly before jumping onto the tips of her toes, arms stretched in a circle in front of her. After a moment, she dropped out of it and smiled at Hunter.

Hunter seemed curious about this and stepped deeper into the room.

"Did you teach yourself?" Hunter asked. Isabela laughed and shook her head.

"No, ballet is ridiculously hard to teach yourself," Isabela told him. "I take lessons, or, uh, I used to."

Why she stopped went unsaid, and she was pretty sure Hunter understood. There was the whole being trapped in another realm thing that prevented her from continuing her lessons. Camila had offered to Isabela to take her lessons back up, but Isabela had declined. She had to focus on getting her friends back home, not on plies or relevés. So, she did what she did back on the Isles, whenever she had a free moment, she dedicated a little time to keeping herself from getting too rusty, but she didn't take time away from the others getting home by spending hours locked in a studio.

She could always pick it back up later, if she got the chance.

Hunter seemed to understand that, because he said nothing, only nodded.

Isabela walked over to her desk chair and began to untie the ribbons of her pointe shoes, Hunter following after her and clearing his throat.

"I was, uh, sent by Amity," Hunter said. Isabela raised an eye at the mention of her sister's girlfriend.

"What for?" Isabela prodded.

"Something about a girl's night?" Hunter said, shaking his head. "All I know is me and Gus were kicked out of the living room but not before I was told to come get you."

Isabela's eyes widened. She had forgotten that that was tonight – Amity and Willow had organized it to try and get Luz out of her funk.

"Oh shoot!" Isabela said, furiously untying her pointe shoes. "I completely forgot about that!" She pulled them off and threw them onto the desk, deciding to put them away later. She looked down at her outfit – knee length yoga pants and a green tank top. Would that be acceptable for girls night? Or did she need to change?

Isabela rounded on the only other person in the room and motioned down to her outfit.

"Do you think this is good enough for girl's night?" Isabela asked. Hunter shrugged and walked over to where the palismen were now fast asleep on Isabela's pillow.

"How should I know?" Hunter asked. "I am neither a girl nor a human fashion expert."

Isabela sighed and decided that this outfit would have to do for right now.

Isabela walked over to the palisman as well and gently nudged Algernon.

"Algy, come on," Isabela said as the little palsiman opened his eyes. Flapjack's interest was piqued at this, as he pulled his head out from beneath his wing.

I was sleeping, Algernon trumpeted. Isabela rolled her eyes and picked him up.

"I can see that," Isabela shot back. Flapjack returned to Hunter's shoulder and tittered something as well. Hunter smiled with a scoff and ruffled the feathers on the tip of Flapjack's head.

"You'll get some more sleep when we go down to the basement," Hunter told his palisman. Isabela looked down at Algernon in her hands and then back up at Flapjack, then tilted her head to the side.

"Don't you think it's strange that only the bonded can hear the palsiman?" Isabela asked. "I mean, from a survival standpoint, wouldn't it be better to let everyone hear them?" If they could communicate with people, why didn't they communicate with everyone?

Hunter raised his head, eyes shimmering with knowledge he was ready to share.

"I did a little research on palisman, back at the castle," Hunter started. "Palisman are able to magically bond with their chosen, and that magic allows them to communicate. The bond is the reason for being able to communicate. It's like…..a raven-phone. You can't communicate unless you know the other raven's number. But the palisman only have your number, they can't talk with anyone else, unless they are magically bonded."

Isabela nodded in understanding. She looked down at Algernon, who had fallen back asleep in her hands. She laughed quietly and then looked back up at Hunter.

"What would I do without my personal fountain of knowledge?" Isabela teased. Hunter blushed red at her teasing, and she smiled at him.

"Isa!" Amity's muffled cry from the foot of the stairs cascaded up towards her door. "Quit flirting with Hunter and get down here!"

Hunter went even more red, and Isabela followed suit. Isabela looked away from Hunter, not quite able to look at him.

"I should, uh, get going then," Isabela choked out. "Don't want to keep them waiting."

Hunter coughed once and then nodded. "Yeah, um…. yeah."

Isabela gave him one more nervous smile and then she disappeared out the door, hoping her face was still not red when she came to the bottom of the stairs.

An hour later, girl's night was in full swing. A bowl of popcorn sat on the coffee table while the first Azura film was playing, being ignored by the conversation between the five girls, jumping topics like their conversation was a trampoline, never quite staying on anything for too long. It was all light, fluffy topics, nothing too deep, as it was supposed to be a fun night.

Hunter, however, was not having a great night. With everyone else distracted, save Gus who had decided to go to bed early, Hunter had thought maybe tonight would be a good night to read a book he had recently purchased from the bookstore. He had even left Flapjack sleeping in the basement, not quite able to face his palisman as he read more on the past.

Witchhunters of Gravesfield.

The dark blue cover was fitted with images of humans wearing strange dark clothing and hats, wielding pitchforks and torches. Gravesfield had apparently had a large population of witch hunters, and Hunter suspected that had something to do with a portal having been able to be opened into the town. It seemed, apparently, that he was descended from this people – or at least, cloned from one of them.

He frowned and looked up at the mirror, having unbagged the book in the bathroom. It was not like he could go downstairs to the living room or basement, given that they were full of people that would ask questions about why he was taking an interest in this. He was sure he could cook up a lie, but he really did not want to. Because he wanted to tell them the truth, someday, and it would hurt worse to walk back lies rather than just not telling them.

He stared at his reflection, hunting for some kind of sign of the person he had been cloned from. Belos had said that he looked the most like whoever this person was, and that set Hunter on edge. His features were not his own, they were copied from someone else, taken from someone else. Was his personality his own? Were his opinions his own? Was anything his own?

Hunter sighed and looked back at up, and for a second in the mirror, it was not himself staring back at him, but someone older. They had the same features – same violet eyes, same blonde hair, but their face was thinned out with age and they were staring ahead, not seeing Hunter but looking through him at something else. Hunter took a step back, and as he did so, someone else appeared in the mirror. Someone he knew all too well.

It was Belos, glaring out from the mirror with fury in his eyes, his green scar crossing his face diagonally. His grey-blond hair framed his face in wild waves, which only made him appear angrier.

And then, both were gone, replaced by Hunter's shocked and scared expression. In surprise, Hunter fell back, dropping the book on the floor next to him. His breath came out in ragged breaths that were hard to control.

Hunter shut his eyes, trying to bring himself back to center. His own hair felt harsh on his shoulders, like each strand that touched his skin was fire. His hair was so rarely down, most of the time teased up or pulled away from his face, and it made feel and look uncomfortably like Belos when it was down.

Hunter closed his eyes even tighter and then swallowed thickly, resolving to do the breathing trick that Gus had shown him. Breathe in at the count of four, breathe out at another count of four. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe.

Once his breath was calmed just enough to be tolerable, he stopped, resolute on what his next step needed to be. He opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out a pair of scissors. Hunter had cut his own hair before, it's not like he had anyone to do it for him back at the castle. But at the state he was in, with shaky hands and mind whirring, perhaps it was not the best time to be cutting his hair. Not that he had much time to focus on that, as he turned to himself in the mirror and began snipping away at the blond strands.

A few minutes passed in a fervor of snipping and falling tresses of hair. His eyes were near bloodshot as he snipped away and he came close to nicking skin a couple of times, not really noticing where he was cutting.

The door to the bathroom opened slightly and he turned to see Willow standing in the doorway, mouth open in shock.

"Hunter?" she asked, and Hunter froze what he was doing. "What are you doing?"

Hunter gulped and dropped the hand with the scissors away from his head. He didn't answer, but it was a little self-explanatory that he was trying to give himself a haircut.

Willow smiled and walked over to him, taking the scissors from him.

"Do you need some help?" Willow said. Hunter bit his lip and nodded sheepishly. "Okay, sit down, and I'll help you."

Hunter sat down on the toilet lid as instructed, and Willow reached for a few strands from the front of his head. She began to slowly cut away thin strands, most more orderly than Hunter had been doing. Hunter noticed the book he had dropped on his foot, and he quickly hid it away. He was certainly not ready for any questions that might bring up, nor did he want to worry her with the idea of witch hunters.

"I thought you were at girls night," Hunter said eventually. Willow just waved him off.

"The girls will get on just fine without me," Willow insisted. "Besides, you need help. Otherwise, who knows what kind of haircut you'd end up with."

Hunter laughed lightly. "Thank you, Willow."

Willow hummed for a moment and then titled her head to the side.

"What prompted this anyway?" she asked. Hunter blinked, trying to quickly come up with an answer.

"I just needed a change," Hunter said, which technically wasn't a lie. He wanted a change, to separate himself from the past and keep from reminding himself of Belos. He didn't think, however, saying he saw different people in the mirror was going to win him any points in the sanity department.

"Fair enough," Willow returned. Willow continued to work, and then after a few minutes, she smiled and stepped away. "Alright, tell me what you think."

Hunter stood up and walked back to the mirror, and for half a second he expected someone else to be staring back at him. But there wasn't just himself. His hair had been cut down to a short length, gone was the strand that hung in his face and curly locks, instead he had hair was just an inch or two long, stopping at where his head met his neck. All in all, he did not look that different, but it made a world of difference for him.

He turned to face Willow and smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," he said again. Willow grinned and reached up to ruffle the newly cut hair.

"You're welcome," Willow said. "I think short hair suits you."

Hunter had never considered his appearance once, not until he found out it was stolen from someone else. Then everything changed. He became aware of the exact shade of his eyes, the way his shoulders slanted, the length of his legs. He wondered if the person he had been copied from had looked like this at his age. He had pieces of himself that were solely his – his scar and clipped ear, which both came from missions.

Cutting his hair may have been a rash decision, but he felt it was for the best. It gave him something else that was his, something that belonged solely to himself and was decided by his own choice.

"Thanks. Me too."

Notes:

Chapter Bible Verse:
"Honor your father and mother, that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land." -Ephesians 6:2-3 ESV

hello! we're back baby! some notes:
1) i thought about switching out willow in the hair cutting scene for isabela, but it just didn't feel right. i don't want to take away all of the canon characters moments to make the pairing work, as i want hunter to still have his friends other than isabela.

2) next chapter we start getting the meat of the story, and this is meant to be a tip the toe in type of chapter, transferring us from "i'd like to have a conversation" to this

3) any and all comments, questions, or concerns are much appreciated. thank you and have a blessed day!

-PrincessChess