nineworks

[nineworks]

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done to me, betrayer Throw your stones and stab me with your hateful stares Curtain call, the final act, so say your prayers So long to you beloved traitor."

「 ✦ LOWER ONE'S EYES ✦ 」

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾ After you lost your mother to the witch hunts as a child, you've spent the better years of your life living with a family friend and making sure that the Council of Elders won't figure out you're one as well. Unfortunately, things take a turn for the worse when a new witch hunter who is said to have an accurate killing streak arrives in the city, and his eyes are set on you.

<- part 1 | you are here | part 3 ->

Word count: 28900 Reading time: 2h 24m Featuring: reader, phainon, aglaea, lygus Other characters: caenis, anaxa, cyrene, cipher (mentioned), tribios (mentioned), hyacine Tags: all tags are applicable to the fic as a whole and not just the part posted, major character death, written before 3.5, alternate universe, potential ooc, slowburn (im serious phainon doesn't appear until maybe 5k words in), gn reader, no use of y/n or [name], witch hunts, not time period accurate, bittersweet ending, implied grooming, gets suggestive at some point but no nsfw content, aglaea as reader's adoptive mother, implied aglanaxa if you squint, reader has trust issues and still refuses to trust phainon 30k words in, phainon is refered to as flame reaver at the start and khaslana near the end, slight edits made, no beta please kill me already Notes: If this is your first time interacting with me or my works, please read my rules beforehand. hihi guess what's here! thank you all so much for reading the first part to this insanity! i'm glad to know that you all enjoyed it. i completely forgot to mention it in part 1, but please let me know if you want to be tagged once part 3 is out! before we start, i just want to say that reader talks about flower symbolism at some point. while i did use a source, i could still be wrong with the symbolisms and how i wrote it. if you're interested, the source i used is floriography: the myths, magic, and language of flowers. i'm 99% sure every flower i've added since 1 one is intentional. that's all, and i hope you guys enjoy :D

IV. Save Me From The Hate I Hide Within

For the Month of Weaving, you had no reason to keep the shop open. Most of your flowers had already wilted during this season, anyway, and you only casted a basic and faint spell that wouldn't completely kill them once winter arrived. You could put one where they would survive just until the first day of winter, that would be unwise and unsafe. Besides, you could always revive them once the first day of spring came. Which meant that, for the entirety of this month, you would be helping Aglaea in her shop.

The ritual always started during midnight, when the first hour of the new day would tick. Some witch hunters were still awake and patrolling the streets of Okhema, so the two of you had to be careful and quiet in her own study. You heard from both your mother and teachers that, back then, when witches didn't have to worry about getting caught, they would all gather outside when their moons would arrive. They would all bask under the moonlight, perform the needed ritual, and celebrated an entire month of their magic growing stronger.

Now, you all had to stay indoors. The windows had to be open so the light of the moon could enter your home, so you had to pray to every god in Amphoreus that you wouldn't get caught.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Aglaea said as she opened her window. Fortunately, it opened to the back of her house rather than the streets of Okhema. It would be more difficult to get caught here. "The Council of Elders always warned people that witches were blasphemous and an insult to the gods and brought corruption wherever they went. And yet, not only do we protect them from corruption, we worship the same gods as they do."

A chuckle left your lips, but there was no humor behind them. Instead, you remained seated on one of her plush couches, fiddling with the vase of violets next to you. "They think they think they know everything."

"They do. But they're nothing more than prisoners chained in a cave, thinking that the shadows dancing on their wall is what the world is like. They fail to see that the light leading to their exit has always been close to their grasp, but they're too afraid that the truth doesn't match their perceptions."

Aglaea raised her hands, making her golden threads appear. When she pulled them down, every thread around her grew brighter before immediately fading away. You always knew just how many threads she kept around Okhema just to keep everyone safe. But every time you watched her perform her ritual, you always found yourself baffled. There were hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of threads that all connected back to her. She was the only person strong enough that could hold all of Okhema together for almost twenty years.

And you were supposed to be next.

"My protection is getting weaker and weaker with each passing year," she whispered as she grabbed the last visible thread in the air, before it also disappeared. "Fortunately, I can replenish my energy for this month and keep the barrier around for another year or two. But I want you to be prepared for any day to take my place."

"I don't even know if I can ever replace you," you replied. "I can't imagine having to constantly use magic even while I'm asleep just to protect everyone while at the risk of getting executed if I'm caught."

She cupped your cheek and lifted your head, making you meet her gaze. "I know it's daunting," she said as she pressed a soft kiss on your forehead. "And I know that it's a heavy weight on your shoulders. Even I wasn't ready when I had to replace my teacher."

"Does it get easy?"

"No. Unfortunately, it doesn't. And this burden only gets passed down from witch to witch. But I know the day will come where witches no longer need to protect people in secret and will be able to cleanse the Black Tide instead. I just hope you'll be able to live that lifetime."

You wanted to believe in her hope as well, but it was difficult. All your life, the only thing you knew was that you should remain in hiding. Imagining a world where you no longer need to fear death every second seemed so out of your reach.

The first week of the Month of Weaving ticked by so fast. Thanks to Aglaea's enhanced magic, alongside her extremely long queue, you were so busy that you didn't even notice the time passing. During the day, you helped her in the shop. Taking measurements, running errands, checking the stock, running to your flower shop in case you had stocked flowers she needed—and if you didn't, craft those flowers by yourself with the materials she provided.

At least by night, the both of you could breathe easily. She would just snap her fingers and her magic would do all of the work. The looms would spin on their own, scissors floating in the air as they cut threads and fabrics by themselves, and needles sewing numerous pieces together at the same time.

It was a shame that she couldn't use her magic to her full potential to make her clothes. If she used too much, then witch hunters might be able to detect it and realize the truth. Aglaea's outfits were already amazing when she was holding back. How much more if she was able to let loose?

By the second week, you had to run to a merchant and pick up the supplies she purchased some time ago. And of course, you were greeted by the crates of raw linen and wool. She always insisted on weaving her fabrics from scratch, so she always bought raw materials. Sometimes, you wondered if they were really necessary. But then again, this was Aglaea. You'd rather not question her methods that had been working ever since she started her tailor shop.

Maybe you could get a Dromas to help you carry everything? No, Dromases were too slow. You needed to go back as soon as possible. Maybe you could make two trips instead. But if you did that, with the amount of time you went back and forth, you might as well have taken the Dromas after all.

With a defeated sigh, you picked up one of the crates of wool. It wasn't that heavy. Maybe two trips were possible.

"Need help?"

It had been a while since the two of you talked to each other, but you weren't surprised about bumping into Flame Reaver this time. You turned around and—

You almost dropped the crate, but you fortunately held onto it again before it could crush your toes. You didn't recognize him at first. Especially not without his witch hunter attire. For the first time, he was wearing the white coat Aglaea made for him. And with that on him, it was like you were looking at someone else. Like you lived a life where this man wasn't the cause of your sleepless nights for almost two months straight.

"Flam—Phainon. Good morning," you greeted. "What brings you here?"

"I just finished a job. Thought of grabbing a snack at the Marmoreal Temple when I saw you." He turned to the crate in your hands, then to the others next to you. "That's a lot of boxes to carry for one person. Do you want me to help you?"

The main reason why Aglaea finished all of his clothes quickly—by hand, too—was to make sure he stayed away from the shop during the Month of Weaving. But here he was, offering to help you so he could go to the very place he was supposed to stay away from. Was this another trap? Another way for him to investigate you both?

Don't panic. You could hear Aglaea saying that. Don't let him know you're nervous. Besides, if outing Aglaea as a witch was as simple as going to her shop, then she would have been executed a long time ago. Making him stay away from the shop was just a precaution, but that didn't mean she wasn't prepared in case something like this were to happen.

"I'd appreciate that," you replied. "Thank you."

"Here, let me carry that for you."

You almost flinched when his warm hands brushed against yours, but you immediately stood tall before he could notice you were nervous again. It didn't help that there was a brief flicker in his eyes. It didn't look like that same expression you saw that night. This one was different. You wanted to say it was confusion, but he left your side to pick up the other crates before you could determine what it actually was.

"I heard Lady Aglaea's extra busy during this time of the month," he said as you picked up your own boxes to carry.

You shrugged and continued walking. "People believe she's more in her element during the Month of Weaving. She's a very dedicated follower of Mnestia, so people think they would bless her more to create better clothes during this season. But if you ask me, her clothes are always as beautiful as her."

"I see." He was quiet for a while, and you would have rather he stayed silent. Unfortunately, he decided to continue the conversation. "I didn't really get why people would queue for months, or maybe even years, in advance just for a fancy set of clothes. But after she made this for me, I finally understood. She's an excellent seamstress. I can already tell you're wearing her work. It makes you look more radiant."

"Call me biased, but I don't think there's anyone in Okhema, or even Amphoreus, compares to her work."

A small smile formed in your face as you recalled the first time you received an outfit from her. You loved it so much you would always ask her to adjust the measurements so you could continue wearing it. Even when the day came that adjustments were no longer possible, she just used her magic just so it could still fit. You still wore it occasionally, and it was comfortable as the day you got it.

"I'm fortunate enough to own an entire closet of her work in my closet. But it's also so difficult to decide what I want to wear when everything's just so perfect."

"Can't say I relate." A faint chuckle left him. "Aside from my uniforms, I've organized and paired my outfits with how she gave them. It's easier that way, and I don't have to worry about what to wear."

"Deciding what to wear is half of the fun in dressing up."

"Tell that the next time you see me wearing a yellow shirt and purple pants."

Your brows furrowed down. "That doesn't sound that bad of a combination. Maybe it can depend on how bright the colors were, but yellow and purple can work in some instances. I think I'm more impressed that you own something purple."

The corners of his lips twitched a little. "Even with red and green accessories to match?"

You're carrying two crates of wool right now. You're carrying two crates of wool right now and it will crush your toes if you drop them. But even as you repeated that in your head, it didn't stop the laugh from leaving your lips. Even as you tried to stifle it, it only grew louder. "Please don't tell me you actually wore that."

"Then I suppose this is the part where I stay quiet."

"Dear gods… don't you ever let Lady Aglaea know that about you. Not only will you not hear the end of it, but she'll actually make you study color theory just so you'll know how to dress up."

Once you reached Aglaea's shop, you told him to place the crates a bit away from the door. While it was unlikely that he would be able to sense the magic inside of the shop when Aglaea only used it in her house, it was still better to be safe than sorry. Besides, you were here now. You would be able to carry this back inside without issues.

"Thanks for helping me again. I guess this means we're even now."

"Even?" He raised a brow and laughed. "I don't think carrying crates of materials is equal to you saving my life from a Black Tide creature. I'm still in your debt."He looked like he was about to turn around and leave. But just as he did, he turned to face you again. "By the way… the flowers you gave me. What were they called again? Chrysos… Chrysosthermos? Chrysosheirsum?"

Flowers? Ah, that was right. He bought flowers from you at least two months ago. "You mean the chrysanthemums?"

"Yes, those. That name sure is a mouthful," he said with a small laugh. "But anyway. They're growing beautifully in my window. Most of the plants near my house have started wilting away due to the colder season, but they're still alive and striving. It's amazing."

"Chrysanthemums shine the best during fall. They're one of the few flowers that can withstand the season, and some even survive the first week of winter." You shrugged. "Perhaps you were lucky that day. You got low maintenance flowers that will still be blooming even if most plants are dying or are dead."

Phainon laughed again. Now that you weren't in a situation where you were worried he would suddenly expose you to the public, you finally noticed how he laughed. Soft, gentle. His current attire helped, too. Like this, he looked like a normal person. Perhaps you might have passed him by in the street and wouldn't even spare him a second glance. Like this, it was difficult to believe that not only was he the best witch hunter the Council had trained, but he was also the same man who nearly caught you that night.

"I guess I was," he said. "See you around, then."

"Yeah. Goodbye."

You didn't think it was possible to have a normal conversation with him, but you just did. It was just a single interaction out of the—how many had it been, three? Four? Maybe five if you were forgetting something? It was just one interaction out of those times. But for once, you didn't have to worry if he was planning something behind those blue eyes of his. You didn't just talk, too. You laughed. For the first time since your father died, you were able to genuinely laugh with someone who wasn't a witch.

"That just goes to show how amazing you really are," you said to Aglaea after you told her about the encounter. "They completely change a person's demeanor."

She seemed to find your words amusing, as she just chuckled before tossing the fleece in the cold water. "While I appreciate the praise, crediting a person's attitude just because of their attire is a bit unfair, is it not? Perhaps he truly just wanted to be helpful."

"As helpful as a witch hunter can be." A sigh left your lips. "I don't even know why he went to help me. I don't want to be paranoid again—"

"Then don't finish that sentence. Paranoia isn't going to help you. Think of it this way—even if he was using that as a way to get information from you, you didn't give him anything."

"That's true, but that's not the only reason why it feels off that he helped me. Most people would just look at me rather than associating themselves with a witch's child." Your brows furrowed down as a thought entered your head. "Do you think he doesn't know about Mother?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Not even other witch hunters would want to be caught doing something nice to me. So, even if he doesn't think I'm a witch, I don't think he would have done a small favor if he knew about my history." You shrugged again as you put the last fleece in the water. "I doubt he doesn't. Everyone in Okhema knows. And hey, at least I got to laugh with someone for the first time. It was nice while it lasted."

"Yes, I do agree that it's nice to hear nicer stories from you."

It's nice to hear nicer stories from you. Did that mean she was starting to lessen her worries about you? If that was the case, then it was good. You were always careful with what you said around her, but your constant rants and worries must have stressed her out as well. If you were having difficulties just because of one man, then how much more did her own anxiety eat her?

You thought about how she looked like that day again. Hair messy and tangled, dark circles under her eyes… If you were able to see her like that, then how was she like when you couldn't see it?

You were still on guard whenever you saw Flame Reaver, but you tried to at least act more normal around him. If he didn't see you, then you wouldn't change your plans just to avoid him. But if he did, and he himself approached you, then you would entertain whatever he had to say. It could be a simple "hi", or "how are you doing?". You would smile and have a small talk until you would part.

It also just solidified your theory even more. Perhaps he really didn't know about your mother. Sometimes, you could see the way the merchants would raise their eyebrows whenever he greeted you with that big smile of his, but none would say a word. You couldn't tell if he noticed them and just didn't ask, or if he was unaware of it all.

You had to admit… it did feel nice that someone was treating you like a person. No scorns, no snide remarks, no backhanded comments. You noticed that the dark circles under his eyes were starting to fade, and it almost made you forget that this was the same man you were worried about. You could almost believe that he really just thought that the two of you started off on the wrong foot.

But sometimes, during the night, you would stare at your ceiling before sleeping. Just how did he see you? A witch that he was investigating? Or the florist he wrongfully accused and was trying to make up for the fact?

You envied the people who didn't have to worry about the people they were befriending. None of them would spend countless hours in the late night thinking if the person who was being nice to them didn't want them dead. They knew that, no matter who they accepted into their life, they didn't have worries like yours.

Perhaps that was why you accepted his offer to dine with you whenever he asked for it. Even if this was a trap, even if he was planning to kill you one of these days, you wanted to continue feeling like a normal person. In fact, aside from Aglaea, nobody had ever invited you to eat out before. You always sat alone or brought your food with you back home. This was the first time you ate with someone new. He took you to a booth near the window, and he was talking as if nothing was wrong.

Sometimes, he would talk about his hometown. "Aedes Elysiae specialized in growing wheat," he told you once. "In fact, my favorite place there is a wheat field. Whenever I don't want to be bothered, I'd just go to my favorite spot and stare at the sky. But Snowy always finds me."

You raised a brow. "Snowy?"

"Oh, that was my childhood dog. He was a fluffy white puppy. He's always got a smile on his face. Like this!" And he tilted his head as he grinned, followed by a soft giggle.

At that moment, you weren't sure if Snowy was a real dog or if Phainon was talking about himself. Because he certainly looked like a puppy himself.

You tried looking up Aedes Elysiae before, even asking Aglaea about it. It must be a very obscure village, because you couldn't find a single information about it in any of the books or scrolls you owned. Not even the maps showed it. You didn't doubt it existed, especially with how much he talked about it. Perhaps he was using it as an alias for his real home?

Whenever he asked you about yourself, you would always freeze up. You didn't want to talk about your childhood, especially if he didn't know your mother was a witch. But what was there to tell him? You didn't have any friends growing up because children your age were wary about you? That you lost your father to the Black Tide, and have him make a comment about how witches would pay for it?

The first time he asked you that, you sat for a while to try and come up with anything before ending up with, "Flowers have been a special interest of mine ever since I was a kid. I taught myself how to grow them"—a lie, as your mother taught you everything you knew about flowers—"and even learned that some of them have special meanings."

"Really?" he asked, almost like a curious puppy. "Then, can you tell me what chrysosheirsamon flowers mean?"

"You mean the chrysanthemums you bought from me a while back?"

"That's what I said."

You resisted a chuckle, even if it was difficult. "Well, like I told you before. Chrysanthemums thrive the best during fall, which is a season when every other flower dies. Because of that, people began to see it as a symbol for resilience. Every other flower in the garden will wilt and die, but chrysanthemums will still still be able to stand tall and beautiful, even if it's alone. At least, that's what the book I read said about it."

"I see."

But after that day, you started to get ready for any other potential questions he might ask you. A question about your childhood pet? No, you never had one. You were too scared of taking care of one and then getting heartbroken once they died. Asked if you left Okhema before? No, you were comfortable here and you had no plans of leaving. Fortunately, he never asked about your family or why you lived in a cottage at the far edges of Okhema if you lived with the Lady Aglaea. Your multiple nights of writing down your backstory would go to waste, but you'd rather that than try to get everything in your story straight.

"You… you always order the same thing whenever we eat here," you told him one time when your food arrived. Is grilled fish your favorite food?"

His eyes and smile softened. "It is. It's not like the fish back in my hometown, but it still reminds me of it. There's this sea with a beautiful view, especially during sunsets. Sometimes, I would go there for a swim and catch fish for me and my family. My dad taught me that."

You thought nothing of it at first. But when you took a bite out of your chicken, your brows furrowed down. "You don't mean that you go for a swim in the sea and then catch fish with your bare hands, do you?"

"Hey, if it works, it works. And besides, it builds skill."

And as always, he would reply with a smile and a soft giggle. The type of smile that would make you forget he was a witch hunter. Especially since you sometimes found yourself laughing alongside him. You couldn't even laugh with your fellow witches, especially since you didn't know them fully. But him? It was so easy to feel comfortable around him.

You couldn't tell when you stopped noticing his witch hunter uniform. You couldn't remember when you started calling him Phainon instead of Flame Reaver. You only realized that you stopped noticing it when you saw Phainon walking down the street one day, talking to another witch hunter. You stiffened at the sight of his companion, only for you to look at him and realize he was wearing the same thing.

At the end of the day, he still wants you and your people dead. You kept repeating that to yourself whenever you felt too comfortable around him. You were going to enjoy being treated like a normal person for now. Because it surely wasn't going to last long.

Lately, you had been sleeping in your old room in Aglaea's house. With how much work she was going to do, you found it best to be there in the morning when she needed you. You would have to wake up earlier than her so you could prepare breakfast or make a quick trip to the market if you ran out of a few things. Like right now, where you had to buy breakfast in the diner instead and a new bag of coffee beans because you ran out of coffee.

When you returned to Aglaea's house, Phainon was passing by. It wasn't unusual to see him around here early in the morning, even if you were still suspicious of him. He was most likely assigned to patrol the streets at night. You had no intentions of starting a conversation. Despite that, he still saw you. He lifted his head to your direction and waved.

"Morning," he said. His voice was hoarse, and the dark circles that were slowly fading from his face were back under his eyes.

"Morning. You look like you hadn't gotten any sleep."

He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Technically, I had five hours of sleep before I had to go back to work." He paused and moved closer to you. "I've been… investigating the borders of Okhema lately. I can't tell you the full details, but there's been a rise of Black Tide creatures lurking at the edges of the city."

That made sense. They must have sensed that Aglaea's threads were starting to grow weaker. Fortunately, she was able to replenish her energy and refresh the spell before any more of them would be able to break inside.

"Speaking as someone who's lived here their entire life," you said, "I wouldn't be too worried about that if I were you. Okhema's never had to worry about the Black Tide, and I don't think we would ever have to worry about it at all." Until the inevitable day that you would replace Aglaea and think about keeping the barrier up even while you were asleep, but let's not talk about that right now.

"It's an interesting thing if you ask me," he said. "There's a lot of cities and villages that have fallen to the Black Tide. It's impressive how Okhema's still holding up to the point where it can accept refugees."

"I guess you're right." You held back a smirk and the retorts that you thought of. Yeah, how interesting that something was holding corrupted magic back. Surely, magic couldn't be the cause? Witches wanted the Black Tide to corrupt people, after all. Why would a witch protect Okhema?

"That just gives me more reason to want to investigate it. If the Black Tide reaches Okhema, so many people would lose their lives. I guess that means I should go back to work."

"Hey, wait," you said before he could leave. "Do you want my coffee?"

"Me?" He pointed a finger at himself. "It's fine. I think you need it more than I do. Especially with the amount of work you and Lady Aglaea are going to be doing."

"It's fine, I can make my own. Besides, you look like you might pass out soon. You don't want that to happen while you're in the forest, do you?"

The corners of his lips curled up. "Depends, will you be there to catch me like how I caught you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Never mind, forget I said anything. Collapse for all I care."

"Hey, come on, I was joking!" And like the numerous times you've spent with him, the two of you shared a laugh. His gaze softened as he took one of the coffee from your hands. "This'll definitely help, thank you. You have a good day, alright?"

"You, too."

You went back to Aglaea's house and set the dining table. Just in time, as she had just woken up as well. While she sat down to start eating, you made your own coffee first before joining her. Just as you were about to take a spoonful of your yogurt with honey and nuts, you noticed her staring at you from the corner of your eye. Sure enough, when you faced her, her arms were on the table as she held her hands together, and her head was tilted to the side.

"Is… is something wrong?" you asked.

"Nothing. It's just that… you've been spending more time with that witch hunter boy lately." A faint laugh left her. "You truly take things to an extreme, don't you? When I said to not be paranoid around him, I didn't think it would mean that he would start becoming a regular part of your life."

A scoff left your lips. "You make it sound like I've met someone life changing. I'm just being polite."

"Of course, of course. Still, it's nice to know that you have a friend you feel comfortable with."

You almost choked on that. "Friend? Now you're being ridiculous and too generous. We're simply two acquaintances who eat together and nothing more. Besides, he's a witch hunter. He's the last person I would want to consider my friend."

She sighed, but the smile on her face didn't fade. "I will be the first person to tell you that it is worrying you're spending a lot of time with a witch hunter, but I don't think I can recall a time when you're this close to anyone that isn't a teacher."

You placed your bowl of yogurt down, and your grip on the spoon tightened. How could you even begin to explain what you were feeling right now? Sure, Aglaea was a witch like you, but no one ever looked her way and spat on her feet because she could be cursed. If anything, she was one of, if not the, most revered people in the city. Maybe even more than the Council. Everyone always sung her praises about her beauty and elegance.

"It's… complicated," you said. "But I guess that means I should be on guard again. I really don't want to fall off into the other extreme end this time."

"It's good to be wary without being paranoid. However, don't let me stop you from befriending him. Especially since I notice that your eyes light up whenever you two have conversations outside of my shop."

If Aglaea told you that a year ago, you were certain you would have collapsed on the spot. Even right now, your cheeks felt warm at the thought of Aglaea noticing a physical difference after your conversations with Phainon. However, you pushed all of it down. Your thoughts were a mess right now, and thinking about it more would make it messier. There was one part that was happy he was treating you like an equal. Another part was clashing against that thought and knew he still saw you as lesser. A small voice in your head believed that Phainon didn't know about your mother and that his actions were all innocent, while a voice louder than that one was screaming that this was all a trap and he knew what you were.

Before you could continue spiraling into a headache, Aglaea was already done with her breakfast and clapped her hands. "Enough idle chatter for now. Winter is coming soon, and the weather is only going to get colder from here on out. We still have a few scarves and robes we need to finish making. Once we're done, deliver them as usual. Alright?"

You finished your own breakfast and nodded. "Alright."

Aglaea sure is amazing. You could repeat that thought every single day and it you would never get sick of it. Her queue was already full for the rest of the month, maybe even for the rest of the year, but she still found some time to make warm clothes for the people that needed it. She was willing to set her customers aside for those who were suffering.

It was almost sundown when the two of you finished, though you didn't mind having to do it during the later hours. It was colder at night, which meant people who didn't have warmer clothes already needed it more. Which then meant they would be staying in one place to keep themselves warm.

This included the children running in the streets that "stole" your coin purse—they didn't know that you would intentionally hang it in a place that was easy to snatch—the refugees from other cities that still resided near the Marmoreal Temple, and those that, like you, lived at the edge of Okhema that they rarely entered the main city. It took a while to go around, and by the time you were almost done, it was almost late into the night.

Fortunately, you had one house left to visit. Another house at the far corner of Okhema. And fittingly, another witch lived there. You weren't close with him, but you had seen him a few times in the city before. And this wouldn't be your first time going to his home so you could provide him with something, whether it was food or clothes.

As soon as you reached his gate, you immediately stopped in your tracks. The corruption in the area… It felt strong. Stronger than the last time you encountered it. But that was impossible, Aglaea's threads were still here. A quick pinch of the air proved that. You couldn't even chalk this up to paranoia. The presence was strong, and it was nearby.

Your eyes widened as your heart started beating faster, and you ran to his front door. "Damionis? It's Lady Aglaea's kid. Can I come in?" you asked as you knocked.

Just as your knuckles made contact with the wood, a cold chill traveled down your spine, and every hair in your arms stood taller than a line. It was ajar. It was ajar. It was ajar.

It didn't ease the anxiety in your chest. If anything, it only made it worse. Was he okay? Was he inside his home? Aglaea's protection still covered his house, so that meant he should still be fine, right? Maybe the corruption was outside of the barrier and not inside. After all, how could the Black Tide enter while Aglaea was still doing her hardest to keep it up and strong?

You should run. You needed to run. His door was open, and the Black Tide's presence was so strong that even those not sensitive to magic might be able to feel it. If this was a case where Aglaea's barrier was becoming weaker to the point where, even if it was still around the Black Tide might be able to penetrate it, then that meant you would have to take her place soon. You needed to run.

You gripped the basket tighter as you stepped back. "I- I'm so sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sorry…"

Your eyes widened. Damionis' voice. A sigh left your lips, and slight relief filled your veins. He was inside his house. Maybe you could still help him out.

"Damionis? You in there? I'm coming in!"

"Coming in…"

The door opened. You reached for your basket, ready to give him the warm clothes Aglaea had made. But as the door opened and Damionis stepped outside, he stumbled down, falling to his knees. And when he pushed himself up, that was when you finally saw them. Black markings were all around his body, and his glowed in an eerie orange, almost glow, light. It pulsated, as if it was a heart that was still pumping.

And worst of all, red squares were covering half of his face, already eaten away his left eye.

"E- Damionis?" You took another step back. "What- what happened to you?"

"Happened… to you…" He screamed, which slowly turned into a roar so loud you had to cover your ears. For a brief second, he gasped, and the squares on his face dissolved. One of his hands reached out to you, but the other one grabbed it and pushed it down.

"R- Run… run, run, run! Let me- let me die here… run before I can…"

Another roar. This time, you didn't bother covering your ears. You ran out of his property, not bothering to remove your cloak that got caught between his gate. If his earlier roars didn't attract anyone's attention yet, then you were certain that him breaking his fence just to chase after you at least alerted the nearest house. And you prayed to all twelve gods above that the one who noticed it wouldn't be a witch hunter. It didn't matter if it was Zagreus or Nikador. You folded your hands together, almost begging that it would be a witch. You even prayed to Mnestia that Aglaea would somehow find you and appear with a method to cure Damionis.

But not a witch hunter. Anyone but a witch hunter. If he was going to die, then not like that. Not at their hands.

Maybe you could use magic. Maybe if you were smart about this, you could hold him down and use your own magic to clear his mind.

You turned around to see just how close he was, and you immediately regretted your decision to do so. It wasn't Damionis behind you anymore. Rather, it was something else. Something that you had only seen outside of Okhema, when either Aglaea or Professor Anaxa was teaching how attack and defend yourself against them. Damionis was long gone now, and in his place was a Black Tide creature.

Damionis raised his arms, now nothing but sharp blades, in the air, and you gritted your teeth. No, you couldn't use magic right now. It would be too risky. You needed to grab something to parry the blade.

Just as you were about to jump to your right, something ran past you. A flash of black and purple, followed by the sound of a blade clanging against another blade. A witch hunter stood in front of you, their large sword clashed against Damionis' corrupted arms. The witch hunter, however, was stronger. With a grunt of effort, they were able to slash their blade forward, cutting Damionis in the middle.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you looked away. Hopefully… hopefully, he didn't feel that in his final state.

"Are you okay?"

You lifted your head and turned to the witch hunter in front of you. They removed their golden mask and hood, letting you see Phainon's furrowed brows and frown on his face. "You okay?" he repeated. "That thing didn't hurt you, did it? What happened?"

You shook your head. "I'm- I'm okay. Lady Aglaea just asked me to pass around warm clothes for everyone, and- and I reached Damionis' house and… wait, what are you doing here?"

"Do you remember what I told you this morning and I was investigating Okhema's borders? I've sensed the corruption since this evening, and I've been killing as much Black Tide creatures as I could to try and lessen it." A scoff left his lips, and you could see his hand tightening around his sword. "I knew I should have been faster when I heard that roar for the first time. If I wasn't, I would have been too late and you would—get down!"

Phainon pushed you away from your current spot, and the two of you fell to the ground. Your head landed on his chest, and you found yourself trapped between his arms as he broke your fall. Your body still burned in pain, even when he helped you sit up, but you knew you would have been in a worse situation if he didn't catch you.

"Thank you," you muttered. "That fall sounded painful. Are you—"

You wanted to run. Wanted to get up and leave him behind. But you didn't. Couldn't. Your legs were frozen, breath stuck in your throat. The lack of a cloak covering you didn't help the sudden cold, either.

It was like your brain was just suddenly realizing what you were seeing. Flame Reaver slowly stood in front of you, wearing his witch hunter uniform again. And just like that night, his eyes were sharp and narrowed down, the light gone from his eyes again. You weren't the source or recipient of his anger, at least not yet, but you could still feel the pure hatred from his murderous glare.

"These wretched witches only know how to destroy and take from everyone," he growled as he picked up his sword from the ground. In front of him, Damionis was slowly standing up, legs lowered to a stance as if ready to strike him any time. "I don't know who cursed you with corruption, but I can assure you that I will end them with my blade and send them to Thanatos' eternal flames of damnation. And… I'm sorry that it has to end like this."

At that moment, you couldn't look. Not at Flame Reaver, not at Damionis, not at the people who had stepped out of their homes to see what was going on. You could only stare at the ground beneath you, feeling your heart and stomach twist. If you could, you would have thrown up. But even if bile would rise in your throat right now, you didn't know if you would be able to take it out of your body or if you would swallow it back down.

You wanted to scream at him that Damionis was a witch. That nobody cursed him, and that his corruption was a side effect of residual magic that witches couldn't cleanse because people were killing them left and right. You wanted to tell him that his title as Flame Reaver was useless if he couldn't tell something like that and even prayed for Damionis to receive eternal rest. And most of all, you wanted to tell him that he was basically condemning Aglaea, the woman who was the reason why the Black Tide was only starting to affect Okhema now and not years ago.

You had reminded yourself that, at the end of the day, Flame Reaver was a witch hunter. The only reasons why he was kind to you was either because he didn't know your history or because he was using his kindness as a means to lure you in for a confession. And yet, hearing him say that out loud…

Perhaps you were an idiot for feeling human around a witch hunter.

Of course you were an idiot. How many pleasant interactions did you two actually have? Pleasant interactions wouldn't be enough to change the truth. They never were.

You didn't look up until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Flame Reaver knelt down in front of you. Behind him, you could see what remained of Damionis slowly turn into smaller squares before fading away. More witch hunters started approaching, but you didn't bother listening to what they were saying.

"Hey," he whispered, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Did you know him?"

"Vaguely." Not as much as you wanted. Which perfectly described how you felt with every witch the Council and witch hunters had killed. "I- I don't talk to him much outside of the city… and- and like I said. I only came to his house because Lady Aglaea told me to hand out warmer clothing to people who needed it, and- and his house was my last stop, and…"

You took a sharp inhale as a few tears finally fell down your eyes. You were crying, and it wasn't even because you lost someone you knew. Sure, it also pained you because you didn't get to know him properly, but that wasn't the main reason, no. Rather, Flame Reaver's words earlier hurt. You could feel the fire in them, and it burned you on the inside.

And it was even more painful when he looked at you like that. With his brows furrowed down, lips opening and closing as if debating what to say, and the softest and brightest blue eyes not leaving your gaze.

Why was he looking at you like this? Why was he looking at you in such confusion? How could eyes that reflected a sunny and warm sky also carry the fiery rage of eternal damnation?

"It's okay," he whispered. "It's- it's okay. Here, let me help you up again."

"It's fine." Even if your legs were shaking, you pushed yourself up.

A crowd was forming now. You could hear people were talking about how a Black Tide creature managed to enter Okhema, and no doubt they were twisting the tale to make it worse than it seemed. You grabbed your cloak and—dammit. That was right. Your cloak got caught in Damionis' gate and you didn't bother getting it back or else you would have been caught.

"Here." He removed his own cloak and wrapped it around you. It was warm, but not in the same way that Aglaea's works kept you warm. Rather, you could still feel he warmth of his body on it, alongside a faint scent of bulrush and… ashes. "It's a little tattered, but it'll keep you warm."

Before you could thank him, he grabbed the hood and pulled it up, covering your head completely. You were about to say your thanks, but the crowd parted as someone stepped inside. Even when he stood in front of you, you were still able to see Lygus walk to the spot where Damionis disappeared. His hands remained behind his back, and a deep sigh left his lips.

"Corruption has entered Okhema," he said as he scanned the crowd, making you step back even more. "This is what happens when we let witches run amok without punishment. Our own people are turning into monsters of their creation, and they feel no remorse."

You bit your tongue, this time literally, as you resisted the urge to talk back. If he knew that Damionis was a witch, he wouldn't be making these sentiments. Instead, he would probably be rejoicing, saying that a witch was finally facing the consequences of their actions and that this should be a sign of repentance.

"Our witch hunters will be increasing security for tonight," he continued. "We will be implementing a stricter curfew for the rest of the Month of Weaving. Anyone found outside of their homes by Curtain-Fall Hour will be taken into the Marmoreal Temple for questioning. And if we find any witches… pray that the gods you have chosen to abandon will not abandon you."

You heard Lygus talk to the witch hunters with him, but you didn't bother listening to what they said. Instead, you stayed where you were and waited for all of them to part. Once they were gone, only then did you let the sigh of relief leave your lips.

"Let me walk you home," said as he approached you again. "It's dangerous right now. Let me at least make sure that you make it back to Lady Aglaea safely."

You wanted to decline, but you knew that wasn't the right choice between two terrible options. You either walk with him, or worry about witch hunters who were extra alert and no doubt would interrogate any lone person they saw.

So instead, you grabbed the hood of the cloak and nodded. "Okay… thank you."

"Of course."

You kept your head low as you walked back to Aglaea's house. Once or twice, you saw a witch hunter approach you from the corner of your eyes. But every time you tensed up, Phainon would place his arms you and pull you closer to his side. You couldn't see his face from under the hood, but his hold on you was firm. You thought he was going to take you to the Marmoreal Temple, and you held your breath each time you found a familiar path that would lead to it. But he never did. He just held you.

When Aglaea's home came into view, you stopped in your tracks. No doubt she was using her magic right now. While you didn't worry about Phainon being near Aglaea's house during the morning, it was a different discussion if she was actively using it.

"I can walk by myself now," you whispered. "Thanks."

"Of course. And… and I'm sorry about earlier. You shouldn't have seen that. I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "It's fine. It's not my first time seeing a Dark Tide creation die. And I'm sure it won't be the last."

"That's not what I- never mind. Take care of yourself, alright? There are people out there who care about you and would lose sleep if something happens to you."

Your grip on your cloak tightened. Right. Lady Aglaea must have at least seen what was going on from her window. You were so focused on your own worries and pointless feeling of betrayal that you had forgotten about her. "You're right. I should at least let Lady Aglaea know I'm okay. Thanks again for walking me."

"Right. Sure."

You turned around and—

"I'm glad you're feeling better around me."

Your brows furrowed down as you faced him again. "Excuse me?"

"I- I said I'm glad you're feeling better around me."

"What do you mean? Where is this coming from?"

"Nothing. It's just that… I remembered how you wouldn't even look at my direction when we used to talk back then. And it makes me happy knowing you've warmed up to me, you know? It's like… I can be someone you can trust." It was faint and unlike him, but there was a small and barely noticeable smile on his lips as his brows raised a little. "Well, at least I hope can become someone you can trust."

That was impossible, and you knew that. It didn't matter how close the two of you would become, or if he would turn from an acquaintance you regularly ate with to someone you could call a friend. The mere fact that he was a witch hunter and you were a witch meant that, no matter what would happen, you could never trust him. Whether as Phainon or as the Flame Reaver.

And yet…

"I also hope you can become someone I trust," you replied.

Phainon sighed. He almost sounded relieved. "Well, goodnight. For- for real this time. I don't have anything else to say. Goodnight."

You waited for Phainon to be out of sight before you continued walking. When you opened the door to Aglaea's shop, darkness wasn't what greeted you. Rather, it was none other than Aglaea herself. Her eyes were wide, and her steps were a bit faster than usual as she approached you.

You pressed a palm on the door, adding numerous layers of locks and magic. "Aglaea! A- Are you alright? Did anything happen to you?"

"I caught wind of the gossip on the street," she said as she placed her hands on your shoulder. "Enough about me. How are you? They didn't hurt you, did they?"

You shook your head. "No, I- I'm fine. Don't think about me for now. Please, tell me how you are first. Your threads still covered every inch of Okhema, but the Black Tide somehow reached Damionis and corrupted him. Please, please, tell me if you're okay, Aglaea. There shouldn't be corruption while you're still protecting everyone, but somehow there is one now."

Aglaea looked down. She grabbed your hand, leading you to the living room before sitting you down. It was rare to see her like this. Usually, even if she didn't want to answer your questions, she would either tell you directly that she couldn't answer it or she would deflect with a different answer. But right now, she was quiet as she stared at her hands, watching as her golden threads appeared between them.

"Do you remember the time you asked me why I finished Phainon's clothes so early when I still had an extra month left?" she whispered.

"You said that your queue wasn't that long and you wanted to rest during the Month of Freedom was well," you replied, keeping your voice as low as hers or else you would shatter the fragile silence between you both. "That… that was just an excuse, right?"

"I can tell that my hold on Okhema has been weakening lately. The barriers are faltering, corruption is leaking in. Since the Month of Weaving was close during that time, I didn't want to alert you. So instead, I finished all of his clothes early so he has no excuse to be near the shop. And with his clothes done, I'll be able to rest just until I can replenish my energy. But it seems like it wasn't enough. I won't be able to hold the barrier for longer."

"Why- why didn't you tell me? It would have spared you the troubles!"

"You were already worried that a witch hunter was on your tail. If I told you that, then you'll insist on taking my place. But I can't let you do that. Not with your anxieties still bothering you."

Your arms fell to your side as your eyes widened. This was your fault. If you just hadn't been too paranoid around Flame Reaver, if you weren't so reckless that you would be worrying about him finding you out, then Aglaea wouldn't have to worry about you. You were so focused on your own fears that you forgot she was thinking about your every move as well.

"That means I'm not ready to take your place, then." Your earlier tears returned, and you covered your face with your hands. "Your magic is growing weaker by the minute, and… and I'm still not ready to replace you… "

"Oh, darling. Come here."

When she opened her arms, you didn't hesitate to return her hug. Like what you always did when you were a child, you would bury your face in her chest while she hummed a soft melody under your breath, and the fire crackling in the hearth the only thing breaking the quiet.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered. "You're doing your best to protect everyone, and- and here I am, thinking about myself."

"Don't feel bad for doing so. You need to prioritize yourself, too."

"But- but your magic… If the day comes when you can't even squeeze out a single gold thread anymore, I won't be ready to replace you. How can I protect everyone here when I don't even know if I'm protecting myself properly?"

"That day will not be arriving for a long time. As long as I still stand and cast spells, I can protect Okhema." She sighed and patted your head. "But if it makes you feel better… Like I told you before, even I wasn't ready to replace my former teacher. It's a daunting task, so please know that everything you're feeling right now is normal. You just have to do the task once the day arrives."

"I wish I didn't have to… I'm sure cleansing the Black Tide would have been easier than forcing you to continue this thankless job."

"Believe me, there are people out there who are grateful, even if the entire city won't appreciate you." She paused and sat taller. "Whatever happened to your cloak? Or is that even yours?"

"My…" You looked at where she was staring at, and your eyes widened. "Wait this isn't mine! This is…"

Phainon's. Crap. You were inside Aglaea's house. If you would return this to him now, then no doubt he would be able to sense even the faintest of magic that clung on to this. You would have to do a lot of cleaning first just to get rid of its presence.

You took it off your shoulders and held it in front of you. It was large, and the ends were torn and tattered. There were multiple patches that sealed what looked like burn marks, and the part that connected the hood to the cape was crudely stitched together. Almost as if he sewed it in for the sake of having the pieces be connected.

"It's old," you muttered.

Aglaea held it up as well. "Would you like me to fix it?"

"No. It's already a problem that I accidentally brought it with me. I wonder if he did this on purpose or…"

"I hope I can be someone you trust," Phainon had told you earlier.

You shook your head. "Or maybe he was just being nice."

That thought would never even cross your mind before, especially when you two first met. And it might be cruel, but you would have burned the cloak. The idea was still tempting, and you almost voiced that suggestion. But as you stared at the stitch on the hood, you couldn't help but think of Phainon in the middle of the night, trying to think of the easiest way to fix his ruined garment, and then deciding that if a haphazard stitch worked, then it was better to leave it like that than to leave it ruined.

An idea almost entered your head. But at the same time, you remembered how he looked when he killed Damionis, the words that left his lips and reminded you of how different you two were.

Your grip on it tightened. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

"What makes you say?"

"I… I'm thinking of making him a new one when I was just scared of him killing me earlier."

You thought Aglaea would be unamused with the idea. After all, why on earth would she use her magic or teach you how to make a cloak for a witch hunter of all people? And didn't he just condemn you all to eternal damnation earlier? Why on earth were you thinking of making something from scratch for him? You could just find one of Aglaea's premade cloaks and say it was a gift from her, and then it would be done.

Aglaea, however, smiled. Her blue and green eyes lit up a little as her brows slightly raised and lips relaxed. "Would you like me to teach you how?"

You shook your head. "No… I… I don't know. Maybe no. Not yet. I'm not sure."

"Well, if you change your mind, you can always ask me anytime."

"Now I'm sure I'm being ridiculous."

"You're opening up your heart to someone for the first time after keeping it locked up for so long." She grabbed Phainon's cloak and rolled it in her hands, perhaps to wash it later. "New experiences are always intimidating and make us worry we'll pick the wrong choice."

"Am I picking the wrong choice, then?" You leaned your back against the couch and wrapped your arms around yourself. "What's the point of opening up my heart if it's going to get me killed someday? Why couldn't it have opened up to anyone else? Someone who I won't have to worry about becoming my executioner in the future?"

Your vision was starting to blur. Great, just great. You were crying again. You didn't want to cry right now, especially not to some guy you just met less than half a year ago.

You always feared every witch hunter and member of the Council finding you out someday and burning you alive. But at the thought of Phainon being the one to do that… it wasn't just fear that coiled around your heart. It was something stronger than that. You didn't know what that exact feeling was just yet. After all, you two weren't even friends. How could he affect you this much?

As you wiped your tears, you stood up. " Why am I feeling this way?"

"Like I said; you're opening up your heart for the first time after keeping it locked up for so long. As for why you opened it to a witch hunter… I'm afraid I can't say for certain. Perhaps you'll understand in the future." She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and smiled. "Get some sleep, love. It's late at night, and you've had an exhausting day. Some rest will help your head.

You nodded as you returned to your room. Once you were on your bed, you rolled to your side and stared at your closed curtains. For a moment, in the darkness, you saw a flash of dull blue, shooting you a cold and hard glare while its owner held a large sword. In the next, those same blue eyes softened and lit up, and you could see a smile that matched their gentle gaze.

You sighed and shut your eyes. Aglaea was right, you needed to sleep. By morning, your mind would clear up, and you would chide yourself for being ridiculous and having these thoughts about a witch hunter.

V. I’ve Lost My Faith and Myself All The Same

Back then, when the Black Tide wasn't as bad as it was right now, you always heard about other cities waging war with one another during the Month of Strife. In fact, the now-fallen Castrum Kremnos was one of those cities whose bloodlust would never be satiated. At least you could always think to yourself that Okhema would never be one of those places that would just mindlessly declare war as if it was a hobby. Everyone in the Holy City wanted to preserve everything and everyone as much as possible, after all. You could just ignore the gossip and talks about war and just enjoy the fact that winter was here, and that it was a fair trade to replace your garden in exchange for the beautiful snow.

That was when you were younger. Now, the Month of Strife was your least favorite month.

Now that the Calamity Season was here, you would be living with Aglaea again just until the weather would become warmer and spring would arrive. Though sometimes, you would return to your cottage and sleep there instead. Aglaea's house was near Kephale Plaza, which meant that you would be hearing the executions every night. Prisoners or witches that weren't killed months before all had their death days scheduled for this month, and it would only stop once the Month of Mourning would finally come.

Every dinner, the smell of burning hair and flesh would make you lose your appetite and throw up. You would lose your appetite and skip dinner, sometimes even breakfast if, somehow, the smell still hadn't faded away. Perhaps it was the amount of people they started burning together at the same time, or perhaps your body just refused to forget the smell, but you couldn't escape it even in the Marmoreal Diner.

You sighed as you leaned back on your seat, rubbing your temples. You were hungry, and you didn't eat anything but bread or cheese and crackers for almost three days now. But could you even eat anything that would fill your stomach without thinking that you might be eating a person?

"Hey." When you lifted your head, Phainon stood next to your booth and waved. For a second, you thought he was wearing his uniform. But when you blinked, you realized it was just one of the black clothes Aglaea made.

"Hey," you greeted back.

"Do you… mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head. This was where the two of you ate together, anyway. It would be rude if you declined. He sat in front of you and sighed.

"You look… awful," he said with a small chuckle, but his smile immediately faded away. "S- Seriously. Are you alright?"

"No. I just… I'm just hungry. I haven't been eating properly lately."

"I… I understand. Lady Aglaea's house is near the…" He shook his head and cleared his throat. "If you're feeling hungry but can't stomach meat, then might I suggest a salad?"

"I don't know if that'd be enough to make me full, but if you suggest, then sure. I guess I'll have a salad as well."

When the Cery salad arrived, you were doubting if it could really satiate your hunger. After all, it was just a bunch of leaves and croutons. But when you finished the bowl, you were surprised at how satisfied you felt. Sure, you were still a little hungry, but you weren't as hungry as you thought you'd be. If you truly still wanted to eat something, then maybe the cheese and crackers you had been eating for days now would help. Even if you were sick of them.

"I'm surprised that actually hit the spot," you said as you finished your glass of water.

"Hey, don't underestimate how much a salad can help," Phainon replied, before a sigh left his lips. "It's what I would eat whenever the smell of meat just feels… overwhelming. Sometimes, I would skip eating meat for so many months and just eat nothing but vegetables."

A small hum left your lips. You remembered wondering about that as a child. You would see the witch hunters dining together either in the Marmoreal Diner or any other tavern, eating meat by the bone and laughing as they got drunk together. And you always felt resentful, because you would sometimes not eat the delicious food Aglaea would cook for you because you couldn't stomach anything.

As always, he would walk you back to Aglaea's house. And as always, you would stop before he could even reach the front door. "Thank you. I thought my trip to the diner would have been a waste, but I'm glad"—I'm glad you were there—"that I was able to eat something."

"Of course." Phainon nodded. "And… if you can, please send Lady Aglaea my thanks. For the new clothes, I mean. It's the first time I was able to change into something else that didn't smell like ashes."

"I'll let her know."

And when you went back inside, you palmed your face and gritted your teeth. His cloak. You forgot to return his cloak again.

That night, when you couldn't sleep, you stared at the cloak folded neatly on your nightstand. The thought of making him a new one returned to your head again, but another voice pushed it down and silenced any more thoughts about it. Would making him a new one really be worth it when, right now, he contributed to innocent people, your people, being burned to death?

Whenever the noise outside grew stronger, a part of you was always tempted to sneak out of the house and just return to your cottage. Loud didn't even begin to describe how much it hurt your ears. It didn't matter if it was the angry mob yelling curses or the screams of the innocent. They always reminded you of that night.

It was like you were there again, kneeling on the ground as you watched your mother burn. She didn't even try to fight back. She just stared at you, tears falling down her empty eyes, as the fire devoured her alive. What did she tell you that night? Did she even say anything? Why could you never remember how her mouth moved? Was she smiling? Crying? Praying?

"Mother, please tell me what you're saying." You were also crying now, and you couldn't stop the sobs from leaving you. "Mother, don't- don't leave me like this… not you, too."

Your mother opened her mouth… and screamed. A scream that tore through your ears and pierced your chest. Covering your ears didn't help; it only made her screams louder. As if her voice was coming from your brain and not from her.

"Mother!"

You sat up from your bed and gasped. It was a cold winter night, but sweat was trickling down your forehead. The fire in your hearth crackled, but the one from the stake outside was still louder. And of course, the scream. Or screams, as it sounded like they were killing people at the same time again. Even when you hid under your pillows, it still didn't block the noise out.

Hopefully, Aglaea was sleeping peacefully in her room. Hopefully, unlike you, she wasn't going crazy from hearing so many people die while even more people celebrate.

A sigh left your lips as you stood up. It wasn't like you could sleep now, anyway. You might as well go for a walk and maybe return to your cottage. You grabbed your cloak and left a note on Aglaea's table. That way, she wouldn't be worried if she wouldn't find you in the morning.

The crowd was large when you went outside; you could see the end of it from all the way here. Perhaps it was because they were killing more than one person at the same time, and so more people were watching as well. The flames were large, and you could see them from here. You pulled your hood up before one could notice you and turned around.

But… morbid curiosity gnawed at your stomach. Wouldn't it be interesting to see who was dying? And even if you shook that thought away, it still held on to your head, repeating it. It was almost as if you could hear its hoarse voice whispering in your ears. It would be futile if you went there, even if it was just because you were curious. If it was a witch you knew, you would resent the Council for killing more of your people. If it wasn't, you would still resent them for their negligence. And yet, a part of you still wanted to entertain that thought.

Regardless of what you would have picked, it didn't matter. A pair of footsteps were approaching you. Before you could take a step away, someone called your name. A voice that had once been the source of your nightmares.

"It seems like Aglaea has a habit of taking in mongrels," Caenis said, venom dripping from her tone.

Your brows furrowed down, but you didn't linger on that thought. Instead, you gave her a respectful bow. "Good evening, Elder Caenis."

"A good evening indeed. I didn't expect you to come out." She placed a hand on her hips as her eyes narrowed to a cold glare. It was the same glare she gave you when your mother had convinced the Council of Elders you were an innocent child, but she didn't believe a single word.

You still remember what she told you when she found out Aglaea took you in. "If it weren't for that woman, you wouldn't be here standing. You would be burning in Thanatos' eternal flames with your mother."

And she was right. It was only because of Aglaea that you were still alive. You would have been living in the streets, either taken advantage of or die from the Council's hand anyway. People might still be suspicious of you, but just hearing someone refer to you as "Lady Aglaea's kid" was enough to silence them.

Caenis wasn't one of those people. But fortunately, she was in the minority who couldn't actually do anything about it.

"I don't want to be too much of a bother, Elder Caenis," you said. "I'm not here to cause trouble; I just went out for a walk."

"A walk where? How can I be sure you're not going to secretly going to commune with the devils of the Black Tide?"

"Because I'll make sure that's not going to happen."

Phainon… Your eyes widened when he approached you both. His Flame Reaver mask made you jump up at first, but you still let out a small sigh of relief when you saw him.

He removed his mask from his face, letting you see his brows furrow down as he shot Caenis a glare. "She's not bothering you, is she?"

Caenis scoffed. "Flame Reaver. What are you doing here now? Aren't you supposed to be with Lygus and watching over the executions?"

"Forgive me for moving from my post and interrupting then, Elder Caenis." His eyes softened as he met your gaze. "Well, I saw my friend here. And didn't you hear me? I'll watch over them and make sure no communing with the Black Tide devils or witchcraft would happen. Not while I'm here."

If it was possible, Caenis' glare hardened even more. You saw the way her hands balled into fists as she scoffed. "Forget it. If you want to deal with this brat, then be my guest. And you." She pointed a finger at you. "If anything happens to him, don't bother showing yourself if you still want to live."

Even when she left you both alone, you could still hear her muttering curses under her breath. In the past, her glares and harsh words always made chills run down your spine, even if the winter night was freezing already. But when Phainon placed his arm around your form, pulling you away from her and close to him, everything felt… warmer. If it weren't for the fact that there was still an execution nearby, you would have closed your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in his embrace.

"I'd say don't mind her," he said, "but you've probably been trying to do that for years now."

"You've no idea." When you sighed, fog formed in front of your face. "Thanks for saving me back there."

"Of course. What kind of friend would I be if I left you hanging?"

Friend. He used the same word earlier when he saved your skin from Caenis. You were too focused on the fact that you almost got dragged to the Marmoreal Temple to notice it the first time. Did he even mean it when he said that, or did he just say it so Caenis would leave you alone?

"If you don't mind me asking," he continued, "why are you out? You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious. And, well, maybe nosy."

"Couldn't sleep properly, so I thought of going for a walk." You tried to turn to where the pyre was again, but you immediately turned your head away before you could see more. "Okhema's actually not bad during winter nights. It's a nice time for a walk, but the curfew and witch hunters on patrol makes it a little difficult for me to enjoy it."

"I see." He placed his free hand on his nape and cleared his throat. "If you're having difficulty sleeping, then may I suggest a place where you and I can go to? It's got this great view of the stars, and the grass is mostly frost rather than snow, so it wouldn't be too cold."

Somehow, you managed a smile. "That's impressive. Even I don't know a great view like that."

Mostly because you never had the time to explore anything outside of Okhema. The only times you went out of the city, and by extension Aglaea's threads, was whenever Professor Anaxa took you out to practice your magic better. But other than that, you couldn't really explore the city or its exterior as much. Witch hunters might find your nightly rendezvous suspicious, and you would be dealing with Black Tide creations so much that you wouldn't be able to appreciate your surroundings.

He returned your smile with a laugh of his own. "Well, it is a little walk away from here, maybe for fifteen minutes or less. But if you're worried about any monsters or dangers, I can assure you. The walk there is safe. And if we do bump into anything, I'll protect you."

A fifteen minute walk… it was already away from Aglaea's protections. And if Phainon was planning to do anything, then you would be too far from her to call for help. This wasn't even paranoia; he was leading you to an obvious trap.

"I don't know," you said. "Fifteen minutes sounds like it would be long. I'm not sure if it would be safe."

"It will, I promise. I'll keep you safe." He placed his hand on his chest as his face softened. His brows raised a little, and though the smile on his face faded, he looked more relaxed like this. "Trust me. I won't let anyone hurt you. You've… become important to me."

You looked down, avoiding his gaze. It was so hard to believe in that when you knew he would hurt you if he knew what you were. If a Black Tide creature were to appear, you knew you wouldn't be able to stop yourself this time. Either the situation would call for it or your instincts would kick in, but you would have to use magic. And once Phainon would see that…

"I…" I don't trust you. I don't think I'll ever trust you. And I know for a fact that you don't trust me, either. "Will it just be you and me?"

Phainon's smile was a soft one, unlike his usual wide and goofy grins that would make you laugh. "You're the only person that I've shown this place to."

"Wow, I feel honored."

"You should be." And there it was, his usual goofy grin on his face. "I'm guessing that's a yes?"

You didn't know why you found yourself nodding and returning his smile, when this could lead you to your very death. And if you die, Aglaea would have to continue carrying the burden of protecting Okhema for more years and may not be able to train a new witch to take her place.

If you didn't notice the cold before, then it definitely hit you now. If you die, no one will be able to help ease Aglaea's burden. Say you change your mind. Tell him no and go back to sleep.

But before you could speak, Phainon had already nodded and stretched his hand out to you. "Allow me to lead the way, then."

Aglaea's words echoed in your head again. You were opening up your heart to someone new after keeping it locked up for so long. And you still didn't know why it opened up to a witch hunter of all people. You wanted to trust him a little, even if you still had your doubts.

Maybe… maybe you should go with him. Maybe you won't regret this. Maybe you should trust him, even if not wholeheartedly.

"Wait here a second," you said. "Let me just grab something inside."

You went back in the house, wrestling with your doubts again and resisting the urge to go back to bed, and grabbed his cloak from your nightstand. Once you were back outside, you passed it back to him. "I forgot to return it to you that night. But thank you."

You had washed this cloak several times just to make sure that not a single spot of magic clung to the fabric. Even so, your stomach still twisted when Phainon's hands brushed against yours as he took it from you. If he felt anything, he didn't say. Instead, he just put it on and smiled.

"I almost forgot about this old thing," he said. "I was wondering why it's been cold lately."

"Sorry about that again."

"It's just an old cloak. It's fine. Besides, it gave me an excuse to wear Lady Aglaea's clothes again for a change. They're definitely better than a tattered piece of cloth." He stretched his hand again. When you accepted, he locked his gloved fingers with yours. "Let's go, then."

Phainon's steps were slow as he led the way, but something told you he was excited. Perhaps it was the way you could see his subtle smile even though his back was facing you. Or maybe it was the way his hand would squeeze yours. And whenever he did, he would turn around and show you that wide grin you had associated with him, followed by a childish giggle. It was cute, really.

You knew you were out of Okhema when the air thinned. It was a little colder, as if Aglaea's threads was the reason why the city was warmer than it was supposed to be, and the winds picked up a little as you continued walking up a small mountainside. The entire time, Phainon never let go of you. Once or twice, he would turn around to check how you were doing. When it got even colder, he pulled you closer and moved his hand to your arms, pulling you closer to him so you could feel warm.

You shivered and gulped. Gods, please keep me safe from death. Please.

Like he promised, it was at least fifteen minutes when he finally stopped. A layer of frost covered the dark green grass, and the trees around you were minimal. You could see all of Okhema from up here, even your cottage at the outskirts. The pyre was still bright, but it paled in comparison to the thousands, perhaps even millions, of stars that dotted the night sky.

"They really do look prettier up here," you whispered.

"Don't they?"

"How'd you find this place?"

"When I first arrived here a few months ago, the Council of Elders told me to find as much witches as I could." He lied down, not caring that the ground beneath him was cold and snowy. "Lygus didn't stop bragging me to them, which then ended up me getting to work as soon as possible. One day, I just decided to leave for a bit and let my legs take me wherever. That was when I found this place and made it my hideout since."

He patted the spot next to him. You followed suit and also lied down. The ground was cold, but it wasn't unbearable. If anything, the temperature strangely felt comfortable.

"People never stopped talking about your reputation when you first arrived, you know," you said. "Whenever I went to the Marmoreal Market, I kept hearing this Flame Reaver from every merchant. Kept saying that you had a accurate nose for witches and that you're never wrong."

Phainon chuckled, but you could tell it was humorless. "You have Lygus to thank for that."

You almost scoffed. Yeah, thank Lygus for giving you for lighting your mother's pyre, your professor's pyre, and for spreading the word that the greatest witch hunter to have ever graced Amphoreus had arrived.

The last bit made you furrow your brows. "So… are you as good as he says you are? Like, are you really good at hunting down witches and not just…" Not just wrongfully accusing innocent people just to say you caught a witch?

The words never left your lips, but it seemed like he still understood. Phainon sighed, and fog formed in front of his face. "I suppose I am. I'm not sure what to call it, but I guess you can say I have a sixth sense for detecting witches."

You scooted further back. That voice in your head was yelling at you now. This was a mistake, this was a mistake, this was a mistake. But if you ask him to leave now, when you had just arrived and he started talking about his reputation and status, then that would be a dead giveaway.

You gulped and licked your lips. "Is that the reason why you became a witch hunter, then? Because you knew what to look for?"

He rolled over to his side, now fully facing you. Everything about him was so soft. From the way his eyes flicked down to your face before meeting your eyes again, to the way his white locks brushed against his forehead. "Not really. But, when I was a kid, maybe twelve years ago, the… the Black Tide destroyed my hometown. And- and I was the only survivor."

A gasp left you. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay." He scooted closer. "Actually, there's- there's something else I want to tell you. Something I've never told anyone."

"Why are you telling me that, then?"

"Because I trust you."

Your heart clenched in your chest. If his words were true, if he really did trust you, then you couldn't help but feel guilt crawling up your neck. You would never be able to do the same for him.

"What is it, then?" you asked.

"Back in my village, I had a friend. Her name was Cyrene. And, well… she was a witch."

Your brows furrowed down at that. His childhood friend was a witch, but he was working as a witch hunter? If that were the case, then surely he must have known that witches weren't a disgrace to the gods and actually follow them too, didn't he?

"When we were younger," he continued, "she had this set of oracle cards that she said 'always spoke to her' and that they were a 'gift' from the God of Time. The other kids in the village and I would always go to her and ask about our future. They would always get excited if they got something cool, like "Warrior" or "Ruler", but throw a tantrum if it's something like "Drunkard" or "Devil" and demand a redo."

His laugh was as soft as he was. Even though he was looking at you, he was staring far off ahead, as if he was staring at something behind you that you couldn't see. He was already gentle, but somehow, his face became even softer. It was like you were looking at a completely different person.

No, not a different person. This was still Phainon. Just a side that you hadn't seen yet.

"So, what did you get?" you asked.

For a second, he was quiet, as if contemplating. After a beat, he grabbed something from his pocket and placed it between you two. It was an oracle card. Specifically, The Deliverer, a man carrying not just his heavy sword, but the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You always found oracle cards difficult to decipher. Before you found a god to devote yourself to, you remembered trying to read them as a kid, and then always getting frustrated that you couldn't hear a single murmur. Even followers of Oronyx had stated themselves that they were a difficult god to follow, and that one should not expect to hear any answers from oracle cards without rigorous training.

But somehow… you could feel the magic radiating from this card. It wasn't strong, but it was noticeable enough for other witch hunters to sense. How Phainon was able to hide this from the Council and his fellow witch hunters was beyond you. The only explanation you could come up was that they thought the magic they were feeling from him was from the witches he had hunted.

"This one," he continued. "The Deliverer. I always found it wrong that this was the one I got. The Deliverer is supposed to be this guy who's willing to carry something really, really, really heavy, but I never found myself to be super amazing. Back at home, I would just either tend to the sheep or help my father in the wheat fields."

"You never asked to draw another card?"

"I never saw the reason to. I mean, if I redo something because I don't like the result… then what's the point of divination?"

That just made things more confusing for you. One of his childhood friends was a witch. Since he said other kids also went to this girl, then that meant his village knew she was a witch. Not only did he keep an oracle card from her, he was also faintly aware of how divination worked and that asking for a do over would make it lose its power. No doubt if the Council of Elders caught wind of this, then they would ask him to burn his card and even punish him for keeping an item of witchcraft.

"So… why did you become a witch hunter, then?"

"When the Black Tide took my hometown, I- I don't know how, but I was the only one that survived. It took my friends, my family, my- my dog, I had to kill them while they were asking me for help, I"—he took a deep breath—"I thought I was going to die there as well. But then, Lygus found me."

A chill traveled down your spine, and your eyes widened. Lygus?

"He saw that I was the only survivor left," he continued. "He told me… things. That the reason why the Black Tide destroyed my village was because we had a witch, and that her magic was slowly corrupting everything until it caught up to us. And since I was clearly strong enough to survive the Black Tide and destroy its creations, he said that I had what it takes to become a Witch Hunter. After that, he took me in. Raised me, trained me—he couldn't be with me all the time, but he taught me everything I knew."

"I see…" It made sense now. You remembered how Lygus left Okhema for a few years back then. And, even when he came back, he would rarely stay long.

That was why Phainon earned his reputation. That was why Lygus was the one who spread that information. He raised Phainon ever since he lost his family.

His free hand reached for yours and squeezed it. "When I started my training and earned my title as a witch hunter, I started to believe that that was why I got the Deliverer card. The burden I have to carry… it's killing people if it means saving the world and ridding the Black Tide from Amphoreus. It's what I always told myself, at least."

You squeezed his hand in returned. "But why did you keep the card?"

"I guess it's because it's my last connection to home. Sometimes, I swear I can hear it talking to me, and I would get so scared. I would pray to the gods for protection from sin, and I always get tempted to throw it into the fire. But if I throw it away… I'm even more scared that I won't be who I am anymore."

Phainon sighed and smiled. Not his usual large grin. Not even the soft ones. While his lips still curled the same way, his eyes didn't have that same shine. The sky above you was full of stars, and yet not a single one reflected on his eyes' surface. "Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't intend for it to go that far. I didn't mean for you hear about my burdens."

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm glad you told me this. Not because it means you trust me with your problems, but because I know it should be easier for you know that you've told it to someone."

"But I still trust you." One of his hands reached forward, wiping the snow from your cheek. "What about you? Do you trust me?"

The answer was easy: no. You didn't trust him. You didn't want to break his heart. Here he was, telling you the heaviest secret that had been dragging his shoulders down, and you would ruin the mood by saying you were a witch? The thing he had trained his entire life to destroy? You'd be a monster to shatter him like that.

But his childhood friend was a witch. Doesn't that mean that you might be able to change his mind about you?

You immediately pushed that thought away. It didn't matter if you were an exception to his rule. Not when he was still hurting people like you.

You rolled away from him and faced the sky. "Did you mean what you said earlier? About me being your friend, I meant."

"You're the first genuine friend I've had since I left Aedes Elysiae."

"We've known each other for half a year. Maybe even less."

"Is that not enough time for genuine friendship to form?"

"It's too quick of a time to decide if you truly see the other person as your friend."

"Well, I see you as one." He pocketed the Deliverer card and held your hands. He didn't pull you to him, just held you. "I mean it when I said that. It's like… it's like I've been holding my breath for twelve years, but you reminded me how to breathe."

You faced him again. He was closer this time. You could feel his hair against your forehead, the way it was warmer if you scooted closer to him even more. You could even feel his breath on your nose.

Your fingers fiddled with his own. "Can… can I tell you something, too?"

He nodded. "Of course."

You may not be able to tell him that you were a witch, but perhaps you could tell him something similar. It would be the same thing, anyway.

"My…" Your voice crack. Gods, why did it have to be now? "I lost my mother twelve years ago. She… she confessed to being a witch, and the Council executed her for it."

Phainon paused. And for some reason, he laughed. Not the mocking type of laugh, no. It was the usual Phainon laugh when he found something amusing or interest. And maybe you were hearing things, but he sounded relieved when he sighed. "I don't think that counts as a secret when everyone knows about that."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Come on, even I knew that."

"No." You shook your head and stood up. "No you- you did? You know?"

"Of course I did." He sat up as well. "It was one of the first things they told me when I arrived in Okhema. How did Lygus say it again? Oh." He cleared his throat and deepened his voice, mimicking Lygus' voice. "Do be careful with the little florist in the city. You will hear people say that they're Aglaea's child, but do not listen to those words. Aglaea merely took an orphan in. Her child is not her own, but a witch's. Or something like that. And besides, you don't even look anything like Lady Aglaea. It was easy to figure out once I saw your face."

"O- Oh."

Of course. Of course he knew. Everyone in the city knew, even those who came to Okhema to seek refuge. Why would you think that one person wouldn't know about it? Even if Lygus didn't tell him, then no doubt the merchants would have. They had seen you with him before, so certainly they would have warned him about you whenever he was in the markets by himself.

You didn't realize it, but tears were falling down your eyes now, and sobs were escaping your lips. Idiot, idiot, idiot! You opened your heart to a witch hunter, and now look where it got you?

The smile on Phainon's face fell. "What- what's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. It's just- are you sure you've known all this time?"

"Why is it so difficult to understand that I have?"

"Because if you knew that, then you wouldn't have been nice to me!"

You flinched from your own tone. You didn't mean to yell at him. In fact, you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. But it was too late to cover your face. He was already holding your cheek, wiping your tears with his thumb.

Why was he so gentle? At least if he was a little cruel with you, it would be easier to push him away once the inevitable would happen.

You sniffled and met his gaze. "Why are you so nice to me?"

"Maybe… maybe it's because I don't believe that just because your mother was a witch, so are you." He leaned closer, hand still on your face. "Or maybe because I always remember that my best friend was a witch, and she was just an innocent girl who didn't even think of leaving our village. So if you were a witch, maybe you're like her. And that maybe… no, never mind."

It was still quiet. The only thing you did was stare at his eyes, and he did the same. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest, and you wondered if he could hear it as well. If there was still snow in your face, no doubt it melted now with how warm your cheeks were.

He was the first to break the silence. "Are you a witch?"

You shook your head. "No."

Liar.

Phainon nodded. He pulled you towards him for a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Then I trust you."

You returned the hug and buried your face in his chest. "I…"

"It's okay. You don't have to say it yet. Just know that I trust you."

You tightened your hold on him. This was the first time you hugged someone else that weren't your parents or your teachers. Unlike Aglaea or your mother, who were softer, or your father that always gave you a crushing bear hug, or even Professor Anaxa who would just give you a pat on the shoulder, his hug was firm. Almost like he was holding on to you, letting you know he was here. And most of all, he was warm.

Your entire life, everyone looked at you as if you were cursed. Even though Aglaea's name was enough to silence them, you still heard the whispers behind your back. Why would Aglaea adopt a witch's child? Why would she risk her business and reputation just to take in a kid that should just rot in the streets? For the first time, someone else looked at you like you were a normal person.

That was it, wasn't it? Why your heart opened up to him, why it would hurt more if he found out the truth. He showed you so much kindness, and you would be a monster if you reciprocated that kindness by telling the ugly truth.

When you opened your eyes, you weren't in Phainon's arms anymore. Instead, you were back in your room at Aglaea's house. The fire crackled in the hearth, and snow was gently falling out your window. You sat up, but immediately regretted it as your head started to spin.

Was that… was that all a dream?

You sighed and rubbed your temples. Of course it was a dream. Why would something like that ever happen in reality?

When you turned at the window again, you frowned. It looked like it was late already. Hopefully, you didn't sleep in too much. You changed into a warmer set of clothes and went downstairs, where Aglaea was already eating halfway through a golden honeycake and sipping a cup of coffee.

"M- Morning, Aglaea," you said with a small bow. "Sorry for waking up late."

Aglaea stared at you for a second before nodding. "No need to apologize. I also had difficulties sleeping last night. Have a seat. The food is still warm."

You took a seat across her and grabbed your own stack of honeycakes. As always, the way she cooked them was the best. Soft and sweet, almost like you were biting a cloud. You grabbed the container of honey and added more to your plate. It was better with more honey, but you knew Aglaea didn't like her food too sweet, so she always—

"Would you mind telling me why I found Phainon trying to sneak into the house at Entry Hour with you in his arms?"

You dropped the container of honey. Before it could spill, you caught it, thankfully, and wiped the little bits that managed to fall out. After taking a few breaths, you turned to her again. Was her dining area always this hot? How were you sweating in the middle of winter? "H- Huh?"

She picked up something next to her, and you realized it was the note you left last night. "I found this on the table when I woke up, so I had assumed you were in your cottage. But all of a sudden, I heard someone trying to enter from the windows. When went to investigate, I found Phainon breaking in, carrying you in his arms, and looking for the door to your room."

If it was possible, your face grew hotter. Oh. Oh. Last night wasn't a dream.

Aglaea raised a brow, and her accusing stare made you want to cover your face and hide under the table. "Did anything… happen between you two last night—"

"No!" You jumped up from your own response. Your tone definitely didn't help. "Gods, gods, no, I promise nothing like that happened! I just- I couldn't sleep last night and then I went out then Phainon found me so we went to this mountainside and we talked and I must have fallen asleep without realizing it—wait, did you say he went inside the house?" Your heart skipped a beat. "Aglaea, did he—"

"He might have," she replied. "However, when he saw me, he asked where your room was and tucked you to bed. He was very polite about it, though he did look as embarrassed as you when I asked when we had a little… chat."

"Aglaea!" You covered your face with your hands. Not enough. You removed your coat and hid the rest of your face there. "I promise nothing like that happened. Please, you're embarrassing me…"

She chuckled and shook her head. "Alright, alright, no need to hide in shame. I was simply asking a question, and I appreciate the honesty."

It was quiet as you continued eating your breakfast. At least, it was quiet inside. Outside, you could hear the people of Okhema starting their day. But after a while, Aglaea was the first to break the silence. Her expressions always shifted so subtly. If someone didn't know her, they would assume she always held the same empty stare. But you knew her ticks. You could tell the difference between her relaxed and stern face just by examining her eyebrows. If she found something amusing or not just from the faint way her cheeks pushed up her eyes.

And you could tell right now that, despite her lips remaining into a straight line, her brows were slightly raised. Amusement? Or perhaps curiosity? "Did you find your answer?"

You furrowed your brows. "What answer?"

"Why your heart opened itself for the first time to a witch hunter."

"Oh." That one.

Your mind was in a tough position right now. You wanted to smile, but at the same time, your chest was aching. "Is… is there a reason why you aren't stopping me? Aren't you worried that I'll die?"

You didn't think she would look at you, but she did. You had never seen Aglaea cry before. Not as a child, not now. For a brief moment, you thought she was about to. But if there was even a hint of tears near the corners of her eyes, it immediately disappeared.

"I am," she replied. "I'm more wary of him than you think."

"So why aren't you stopping me?" You held yourself back. It was too early in the morning to cry. "Please stop me. I- I'll stop seeing him if you ask me to. I can tell him that you told me that yourself. I'm sure he'll understand it better if I'm following orders than intentionally avoiding him. I don't…"

I don't want to die. That was true, wasn't it? It didn't matter if you died to Phainon or the other witch hunter. You didn't want to die and leave Aglaea the burden of protecting Okhema longer than her magic could handle. You didn't want the Black Tide to devour everyone and destroy your home.

But those weren't the words that left your lips.

"I don't want to see the look in his eyes once he realizes the truth."

You had gotten used to the soft look in his eyes. They were so blue, and they were so beautiful. And his smile… If his eyes were the sky, then his smile was the light of dawn that matched.

You had gotten so used to them that you were slowly starting to forget how he looked at you when you first met. And you didn't want to be reminded.

"Oh, my darling child." Aglaea sighed as she cupped your cheek. "How can I tell you to stop seeing him when you've never looked this happy while talking about anyone before?"

"Happy?" Your grip on your fork tightened, but you immediately put it down before you could break it. "I'm scared. More than I've been my entire life."

Outside, you could hear someone laughing, followed by the sound of a soft thump hitting against a wall. Someone was throwing snowballs at someone else. It was muffled, but you could hear the laughs that followed afterwards. If anyone was happy here, it was definitely them.

"I envy them," you muttered. "They don't worry for their lives like we do. They don't know that the Council of Elders is willing to sacrifice them if they think they're witches. Meanwhile, I learned to not attract attention to myself or I'll die as young as ten years old. Sometimes… sometimes, I wish I wasn't born a witch."

You had expected Aglaea to call you a blasphemer. After all, how could you scorn something gifted to you by the gods? Your mother started the spark of your love for magic, and Professor Anaxa and Aglaea risked their lives teaching you how to hone your skills. And yet, you had the audacity to say that you wished you weren't born like this? What was the point of their sacrifices if you were going to be ingrate, then?

But she didn't say those words. Not even anything remotely similar. Instead, she moved from the head of the seat and sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. "I know," she whispered. "I've had those wishes, too. But unfortunately, we cannot change what we are."

You returned her hug. How many times had she hugged you after throwing a tantrum like this? You were already twenty-two, and yet here you were, crying like a spoiled child. "I wish we could."

"Perhaps the gods are kinder to us in another life and will grant us our deepest wishes there."

"Why can't they be kind in this one?"

"Because they're gods. They know we're human, but they don't understand how human we are. We can only hope that there's a life out there where they can be kind."

Somehow, you managed to chuckle. "Your words are cold."

She smiled and squeezed you tighter. "You seem tired. How about you rest in your room?"

"Tired? It's morning. And do you not need help around the shop?"

"I'll take a break from sewing as well. Perhaps I'll just read a book and entertain a customer looking for new clothes."

"I see." You stood up and nodded. Only now did you realize that she was right. You did feel tired. Did you and Phainon fall asleep on top of the mountain, and that was why he took you back when it was already morning? If that was the case, maybe the uncomfortable ground was the reason why you felt tired. "Thank you, Aglaea. I don't think I've expressed that enough."

"Of course. Now, go get some rest. You deserve it."

And rest you did. You grabbed a bottle of Ambrosia for yourself and sat in your windowsill seat the whole day, reading one of the books on your shelf. Every now and then, you would look at the window and stare at the bustling plaza of Okhema below. Merchants yelling their practiced lines for potential customers, children gathering snow on the ground and throwing it at each other…

Phainon wasn't there. At least, you didn't see him. And anytime you caught yourself thinking of that, you would immediately look away from the window and return to your book. As if he could see you from all the way up here. You pushed that thought away as well. You were here to rest, not to think about the man that had been stressing you out from the moment you laid your eyes on him.

You liked to think that you were being productive, even if the only thing you did was sit down, read books, and drink ambrosia as if you were a drunk scholar. You didn't even realize the day was over until Aglaea told you that she had finished cooking dinner. And before you knew it, you were in bed again, staring at your hearth.

Aglaea's words earlier echoed in your head. Perhaps the gods are kinder to us in another life and will grant us our deepest wishes there. What would another life even look like? Was there truly a world out there where you weren't fearing for your life? Were you happier there, or was that life somehow worse than this one?

Maybe you should go to sleep. Thinking these thoughts clearly wasn't doing you any good.

VI. Lean On Me and You’ll Be Alright

None of your flowers could survive winter. In fact, few survived fall. As soon as the weather grew too cold, those that couldn't withstand the temperature simply wilted away, waiting for spring before they could bloom again. If you could, you would enchant all of your plants so they could survive even the harshest of blizzards. But you knew that a lone cottage at the outskirts of the city having flowers blooming during Calamity Season would be enough evidence for witchcraft.

The only flowers that could survive winter without magic were Antilas, and they grew even more abundant during the Month of Mourning. Most didn't even consider them flowers. Rather, they thought of them as weeds and would pluck them out as soon as they saw a patch of purple growing near their properties. You didn't share the same sentiments as most people had. Rather, you saw them as gifts from Thanatos. The Nether Realm was said to be a sea of flowers where one could find eternal rest, so you always believed that they sent Antilas during winter so that somehow, the living realm would still have flowers during the cold seasons.

Whether that was true or not, you still thanked them for the flowers. After all, they were the only flowers you could bunch into a bouquet before heading to the River of Souls.

It also didn't matter how you treated them. You could pluck of the petals one by one, cut them in half, or even crush them under your foot. They would never wilt or die. They only disappeared when they wanted to disappear, perhaps letting the west wind blow them away and return to the Nether Realm. But despite that, you still cared for them like they were any other flower you owned. You carefully snipped the ends of the stem, then grabbed a black ribbon in your cottage to tie them into four different bouquets.

The snow hadn't stopped falling for the past three days now. The skies were a permanent gloomy grey, accompanied by small white flecks that would blend into the snowy ground, just like tears. How fitting. It made you wonder… was Thanatos as gentle as you thought them to be? Did they also understand that some souls that arrived to the Nether Realm were taken too early? Or…

You shook your head. No, you didn't want to think about that. You wanted to keep that hope. If there was a god out there who truly was kind, it had to be Thanatos. Death had to be kind. You would lose your mind if they ended up being the most cruel god of all.

The streets were also quieter, which was strange to think about. Just a month ago, it was lively during the day and dreadful during the night. The month after that, everything was so quiet it was as if the world was holding its breath. But immediately after the Month of Mourning was the Month of Fortune, and people would be in good spirits again and start celebrating the last month of the year. Time truly was a strange thing.

As you continued walking, you lifted your head. The Marmoreal Temple was visible wherever you went, especially since it sat upon a hillside that had a view of the city. Inside there, priests and acolytes were praying for the deceased, and most people would be in the cemetery, sitting next to the grave of their loved ones. They had bodies to return to. Bodies to bury.

You never had that luxury.

You were about to pull your hood when you felt a hand on your head. Unsurprisingly, it belonged to none other than Phainon. Who else would be comfortable enough to touch you like that, even in a gloomy season?

Despite that, his voice was still low as he greeted you. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You going somewhere?"

You looked at the bouquets in your hand and sighed. "Not the cemetery if you were thinking of that."

"I see." A pause. "Do you… want me to accompany you? I heard people who have lost their loved ones throw flowers or their favorite items in the River of Souls. I know I'm a witch hunter and that I have no right to be there, but… I was wondering if you'd at least let me accompany you."

You looked at the bouquet of Antilas again. You weren't really sure if you wanted him to come with you. It was like he said—a witch hunter like him wouldn't just be out of place, but it would be downright disrespectful. To allow him there would be to spit on the non-existing graves of those that had died to the witch hunts in the past.

At the same time… you remembered that night again. When he told you that he was the only survivor after his village was destroyed by the Black Tide, and how Lygus immediately found him and trained him to be a witch hunter as soon as possible. Did he even have time to pause and take a breath, to understand what had just happened?

You took a deep breath. If Thanatos could hear you right now… may they give you forgiveness and tell the lost souls that you ask for the same thing.

"Here." You passed one of the bouquets to Phainon.

In turn, he blinked. "What's this for?"

"People don't go to the River of Souls just because they lost their loved ones to the witch hunts," you said. "They go there to mourn their loved ones who didn't get the luxury of a proper burial. Besides, it's not like the cemetery where lots of people would go to, so there's a chance that it'll just be the two of us. But if you're still worried that people won't think you're welcome… know that I don't think the same."

His eyes were wide, mouth agape. "No." He shook his head and passed the flowers back. "No, I'm sorry. I- I can't accept this. I shouldn't have even suggested. I'm sorry, it was stupid, I—"

"Phainon." You held his wrist. Tight enough to keep him in place, but also loose enough so he could let go if he wanted. "It's okay. I don't know if you ever had the opportunity to properly grieve. And as someone who's been going here for twelve years now… it helps. Even a little."

His gaze kept shifting between you, the flowers, you, then to the flowers again. After a heavy sigh that made fog form in front of his face, he finally accepted the bouquet and nodded. "I… thank you."

The entire time you walked to the river, the only sound that passed between you both were either the crunch of the snow against your boots or the occasional cart passing by. Okhema was quiet, sleeping on a bed of grief. But while most slept with a blanket of peace to keep them warm, there were those unfortunate like you who were left exposed to the cold winds of the Council's cruelty. And when you finally reached the river, the thought only made you tighten your grip on the remaining three bouquets of flowers.

You knelt at the edge of the water, making some of the snow fall and your reflection ripple. No matter how could the winter would become, not a single drop of its water would turn to ice. Aquila could send their strongest blizzard that would freeze everyone to death, the River of Souls would still continue to travel all throughout Amphoreus. Until eventually, the currents would end at the Nether Realm, where Thanatos awaited.

You hoped—no, prayed—that these flowers would reach the Nether Realm. That they would find your mother, and that she would also find your father. That Professor Anaxa would see the flowers you sent for him and mutter about how "unnecessary" they were, but still accept them regardless. You prayed that the priests and priestesses were wrong, and that Thanatos didn't create an eternal fire to punish witches and blasphemers to burn for eternity.

You dropped the first bouquet for your father, praying that the corruption of the Black Tide didn't stay with him even in the afterlife. You dropped the second one for your mother, praying that she found peace after the flames. And for the firs time, you dropped the last for Professor Anaxa, thanking him for his sacrifices for you and the other children of Okhema. Usually, you would drop another bouquet for those that no one would mourn for, but Phainon had them currently.

Another bouquet fell, making it ripple once again. They slowly followed the three ones you dropped and floated away.

"You're right," Phainon said, making you turn to him. Parts of his white hair covered his face, especially his eyes, so you couldn't see them properly. "I never had time to mourn the people I lost. I guess I don't like thinking about it. I'd rather focus on my training and growing stronger so I can help make the world better. Every second that I'm not improving is a second that I'm not helping someone."

You almost reached out your hand for him, but immediately put it down. Now wasn't the time for that. "Forgive me if it sounds like I'm overstepping, but you don't have to help every single person, you know. It's impossible to be the only person who can save everyone."

"I know, but… but if I was stronger, maybe I would have been able to save more than just myself. Maybe my parents could still be here. Maybe I would have made better choices." He turned to face your direction, but his eyes didn't meet yours. Despite that, you could still see that his brows were knitted together. "Do you ever get that feeling that you've made a terrible mistake in your life, but it's already too late to turn back and you know you can never be redeemed?"

"Phainon…"

You weren't the right person for this. Not when you thought of the same thing. Not when every single witch thought of the same thing. If, by some miracle, the witch hunts would finally come to an end, no one would allow him to walk free. Everyone would want justice against the Flame Reaver for taking away so many lives and tearing apart so many families.

Before you could think of what to say, he already shook his head and crossed his legs. "Sorry. Did that again, didn't I?"

"It's fine. But do you… always carry things by yourself?"

When he chuckled, you couldn't tell if it was humorless or if he truly found what you said funny, even a little. "Why shouldn't I? My problems are mine alone. I don't want people to carry the same heavy weight I'm carrying."

"Maybe it's heavy because you're carrying it by yourself. If you let other people help you, it would be lighter."

He didn't say anything else. But judging from the way his jaw clenched, he clearly didn't want to talk about it further. So instead, you sat with him in the silence, watching as the ice-cold waters flowed past you both. Despite the cold, you found the sound of the river flowing soothing. If it wasn't winter right now, you would have dipped your feet and just feel it rushing past you.

"I'm sorry about your professor," he said.

"Hmm?"

"Your professor. Anaxa. I… I was the one who brought him to the Council. I know now's not the right time to bring that up, but it's been eating me away recently. I think you should know who got your teacher killed."

"Oh." You turned your head away and gripped your cloak. "I see."

"I'm- I'm not asking for forgiveness, and I'm not expecting you to do so, either. But… I hope that, even if this changes your perspective on me… we can still be like this."

You wondered how Aglaea would react to this. Would she still let you treat Phainon as normal, even if he was the reason why Professor Anaxa was gone from this world too early? Or would she still act as if what you were feeling was normal? Just how much did it matter that your eyes would light up every time you talked to him, when he also caused you pain in the beginning?

It was getting colder now. Maybe if you went somewhere warmer, your head would be in a better space. You stood up and dusted the snow that gathered on your clothes and stretched out your hand to him. "It's freezing. I think we should head indoors. Do you want to accompany me to the diner? Their porridge is perfect for a cold day like this."

When he took your hand, you pulled him up. He dusted his clothes as well and showed you a smile. "Sounds good. Let's go."

You wanted to tell him that he didn't have to smile all the time. That he should express his true feelings more. In fact, you had so many things you wanted to tell him. So many things you wanted to ask and know. The more you two talked to each other, the more you realized you didn't know him at all. He wasn't just some guy that always showed you the brightest of smiles whenever you crossed paths. He wasn't just a witch hunter that wanted you dead. There was something he wasn't telling you. Something you wanted to know so you could help ease his burdens.

But you weren't the right person for that. You weren't the right person to discuss this with him. Not when you didn't tell him anything about yourself, either. If you wanted Phainon to be honest with you, wouldn't it be right if you were honest with him as well?

Today was one of the rare moments when the diner wasn't busy even though it was lunch. As such, it didn't take long for your two bowls of porridge and cups of hot chocolate to arrive. You blew the steam off and immediately took a sip, sighing when the drink warmed your stomach.

Talking right now felt inappropriate. The two of you were eating in silence, just like the rest of the diner. Perhaps it was out of habit, or perhaps you just wanted to lighten up the mood. But you blew into the windows, making it fog up. After repeating it a few times, you traced your finger on the glass, doodling a small flower.

"What are you doing?" Phainon whispered as he scooted closer to the window.

"Whenever I used to come here with Aglaea during the winter, we'd always do this."

"Blow steam into the windows and… draw?"

You nodded, then drew a smiley face next to the flower. "She's been taking care of me ever since I lost my parents, and I'm really grateful for all the work she's done. If it weren't for her, I have no idea where I'd be right now. She made my clothes, taught me how to sew, how to cook, funded my flower shop… "

"She… she really loves you, huh?"

"She does. And I always hate it whenever I can't repay her." You shook your head and faced him. "So, what about you?"

"What do you mean what about me?"

"I mean… did you have any good memories with Lygus? He took care of you for twelve years, after all."

It was weird to think about Lygus being kind and caring, especially since you only saw him from a distance, and it was always whenever he lit up the pyre. But if you still saw witch hunters with their own families, if even Phainon still had a shred of kindness in his hardened heart, then surely Lygus must be the same, right?

"Oh." Phainon took a sip of his own hot drink and leaned back against the seat. "I don't… I don't really have that many good memories with him. After I officially became a witch hunter, he would drop me off at different cities and then leave for Okhema. After that, he'd return to check on me and the city I'm in, then reassign me to a new location if need be."

"Did… did you two at least do anything together?"

"He would teach me about witches if that's anything. But if you meant anything like how Lady Aglaea treats you, then…" He shook his head. "No. Not really."

You couldn't imagine how that must be like. Sure, it was lonely that you never had any friends, but at least you still had Aglaea at the end of the day. But not only did Phainon say you were his first genuine friend since Aedes Elysiae, he didn't even have any support around him. The man that took him in was busy with his own affairs. And even if he did find someone that could have almost been a friend, he had to leave the city soon for a reassignment.

You took another sip of your hot drink. This time, you didn't blow it on the window. Rather, you exhaled at his face. His eyes widened a bit, and the warmth from the steam made his cheeks turn somewhat red.

"Wh- what are you—huh?"

"You should try drawing on the window as well. It's fun."

"But I'm not a great artist."

"Do you really think drawings made from fog on a window requires skill?" To prove your point, you drew another figure on the glass. First, a circle with dots for eyes and a small smile. After that, you tried to draw Phainon's messy hair. And to make sure you knew it was him, you added the two tufts of hair that always stood on the top of his head. "You know what, forget I said anything. You'd need skills as good as mine to create this masterpiece."

"That… that looks nothing like me." Despite that, he chuckled. "Hold on. Let me try."

Just like you, he took a long swig of his hot drink and blew on the window. At first, he drew you. After that, he drew the sun at the corner of the window, then added a small heart next to the doodle of you.

The diner was quiet. It was the Month of Mourning. And yet, you found yourself smiling with Phainon as the two of you tried to recreate each other again through glass drawings.

As always, when you were about to part, he would walk you to Aglaea's house. He always did, but that was because you were staying with her for the colder seasons. If the seasons were warmer again, would he be willing to walk all the way to the outskirts of Okhema, to the rumored witch's hut, just so he could make sure you got home safely?

"Thanks for today," he whispered once he reached the usual spot he would stop. "It… it really did help. Even a little. Thank you."

"Of course." As you scanned his form, your eyes turned to his tattered cloak, before back to his face. "Stay warm, okay?"

"You too."

When you went back inside, you didn't waste a single second. You headed to Aglaea's workshop, where she was mending a client's coat. At the sight of you, her eyes furrowed down. "Darling, what are you—"

"Do you think I can make him a new cloak before the end of the year?"

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"Do you remember what you told me back then? That, if I change my mind, you'll teach me how to make a cloak for Phainon? Do you think I can make a new one before the end of the year? Or is it too late?"

"What a… surprise." She rested her elbow on her palm and cupped her chin. "And here I thought you forgot about it. But I suppose I do have time to teach you. Come."

She gestured for you to follow, and you did so without any questions. Aglaea led you to her weaving room, and the two of you sat side by side as she started.

"If you wish to finish this before the end of the year," she said, "then may I suggest you gift it to him on the last day of the Month of Fortune, then? It can be something symbolic. Think of it as him starting the new year with something from you."

You didn't know how long making a cloak would take. But you did know that, if you finished it before your deadline, that you would want to give it to him as soon as possible. Aglaea might have to bind your hands together with her golden threads just so that you wouldn't be a fool and give it to him early. But if it would make the gift better, then so be it.

That was how you spent the rest of the Month of Mourning. If you weren't outside, you would be in the weaving room, somehow sweating despite the current month being the coldest month. If there was a single mistake in the thread or pattern, you would undo it and make it better. You didn't know how you did it, but you even weaved a golden pattern at the ends and have the sides be different colors.

During the night when you weren't working, you would toss and turn in your bed. How would he react to the cloak? He probably wouldn't jump for joy. After all, it was just a cloak. And it wasn't like Aglaea made it, you did. And even if this wasn't your first time making something, you weren't as amazing as her when it came to garmentmaking. No one was, but would the cloak even be amazing in his eyes?

Sometimes, though, it wasn't his reaction to the cloak that would send you to sleep. Sometimes, just when your brain was shutting down for the night, you thought of what would happen if you told him the truth.

How would he react if you told him you were a witch? Would he end your friendship? If he did, would he at least keep your secret, or would he tell Lygus and lead you to your execution? You wanted Phainon to be honest with you, but that also meant being honest with him. Did you have the strength to do that?

When the final month arrived, it seemed like Zagreus heard your prayers. Which was the worst way to have your prayers answered. When everyone turned their calendars for the final Month of Fortune, a leap year appeared at the end when everyone was sure that there wasn't one just a month ago. Scarlet Month as everyone called it. You couldn't help but find the name fitting, because Zagreus was definitely going to see your burning scarlet rage if you were to ever meet them.

However, that didn't stop you from continuing your work. It got to the point where Aglaea had to kick you out of the weaving room just so you could take a break and not burn yourself out. When neither of you had the time to cook, you would instead make a quick trip to the diner. And if you bumped into Phainon, you would eat with him.

"Are you… okay?" he asked.

You looked up from your Dromas stew and nodded. "Never better. Why do you ask?"

"You just… drank an entire bottle of ambrosia straight from the bottle."

"Did I now?" You glared at the glass, as if it was the God of Trickery themself. "Do you sometimes feel like you're having a one-sided beef against something you know would just laugh at you for taking the bait?"

That seemed to have washed away his concern, as he just chuckled. "Did Zagreus, ah, bless you on this fine occasion?"

"Is that what we call it these days?'

"Well, look at it this way. Out of all the gods, Zagreus is the one who works. in the most mysterious ways. What could be today's curse might also be tomorrow's blessing."

The common saying when it came to Zagreus' beloved gifts. Unfortunately, he had a point. You might be complaining right now that there was an extra day, which meant you would have to wait longer, but at least it pushed your deadline back further. Though gods know if you could actually finish it before the month, and by extension year, ended.

Though finally, by some miracle, after almost two months of nearly tripping on the loom, muffling your screams with so many pillows, panicking if you had accidentally snapped a thread in half and have to redo, and debating if you could really ask the gods to smite Zagreus down… you finished it. After adding the hook and eye, you were completely done. You just had to wait for one week until Spirit Day, then you could give it to him.

You were finally able to come out of the house without worrying that you were delaying time. So when you found Phainon again and ate together at the diner, you couldn't help but hum.

"You're in a cheerful mood this time," he said when your food arrived. "Did your curse finally become a blessing?"

"I don't think it matters." You shrugged. "Maybe I'm just glad that the year is almost over and that the next one is going to have a fresh start."

"Oh, speaking of the new year. Do you… have someone to celebrate the Spirit Day with?"

You blinked. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were pinker, no doubt thanks to the cold. When his eyes met yours, he cleared his throat and turned to the left instead, watching the bustling streets.

"I mean, obviously you're going to be celebrating it with Lady Aglaea," he continued, "but I was. Wondering. Umm, if you can, you know… Celebrate with me as well. Maybe we can open lucky cookies together. Then after that, I'll take you back home before midnight so you can be with Lady Aglaea again."

"Oh, of course." You smiled and nodded. "Aglaea's going to be busy entertaining the Council and potential guests, so I won't be able to spend much time with her, anyway. I won't mind using it as an opportunity to spend time with you."

"Great! I mean, umm, that's- that's great that you can spend time with me, not that you can't spend time with Lady Aglaea. I also can't spend the day with Lygus since he also has Council duties and all. In fact, I can't remember if I've celebrated Spirit Day ever since…" He cleared his throat and sat taller. "Let's not ruin the last week of the year by dampening the mood."

You wanted to tell him that it would be fine if he "ruined" the mood. But seeing that smile on his face, you just continued eating instead.

Okhema felt like a completely different city during Spirit Day. It was nothing compared to the Month of Joy, but the streets were still alive and livelier. Merchants and vendors had an array of stalls selling food, clothes, or toys for children. Some people were already starting to play music despite the fact that it was still morning. People were lining up the Marmoreal Diner, picking up their orders of lucky cookies to break open once the new year would arrive.

Of course, with an event such as Spirit Day, Aglaea donned her most beautiful dress—a white dress with gold embellishments and yarrow flowers adorning her, and a beautiful white cloak to match. And it wouldn't be Aglaea without her making you sit in front of your vanity mirror and adorning your face with makeup and body with jewelry.

"Your outfits are beautiful as always," you said as she continued fixing you up. "Even I feel beautiful."

She smiled and chuckled softly. "I do like to think that anything I touch will become beautiful. And that includes my own child." A sigh left her lips as her face softened. "Your parents will be proud to know how you turned out. You've grown into an amazing person."

You returned her smile. "Thank you for taking me in and turning me the way I am right now. You didn't have to."

"Nonsense." She shook her head. "I know I can't save every orphan in the streets. But if I can save even one person, then perhaps there's still a chance for tomorrow to be better."

The silence between you two was heavy. She looked like she wanted to say something, but didn't just so she could keep the peace. It made your already twisting heart ache even more. For the past nights, a certain thought had been plaguing your mind. And if there was someone out there who was able to give you advice…

You gripped your garments, but immediately loosened before you could ruin them. "Aglaea… do you like Phainon? Even after you found out he's the reason why Professor Anaxa's… gone now?"

She hummed. "I haven't interacted with him enough times to make a proper assessment. Why do you ask?"

"I'm… I'm planning to tell him the truth. That I'm a witch."

That made her stop. "You are?"

"I've been thinking about it." You gripped your garments again. Aglaea's clothes were anything but fragile, but you swore you were about to tear it apart with how tight you held it. "I'm… I'm still paranoid if this is his plan. Wait for me to lower my guard, then once I'm comfortable enough, get a confession from me and then use that as his chance to kill me. But at the same time… another part of me is saying that it's time I trust him, and being honest is going to help us both."

"Even if it risks your life?"

"I… I don't know."

Once she finished dolling you up, Aglaea held your hands and guided you to your full body mirror. You knew you were beautiful to an extent—with how she took care of you, it was impossible to not feel like you were. But right now, you just found yourself spinning in front of your reflection and admiring yourself.

Aglaea made you beautiful. She did everything for you as you grew up. Make your clothes, mend your reputation somehow, fund your flower shop. And yet, here you were. You might as well tell her that you were planning to end your life and spit on the kindness she offered for the past twelve years.

"Oh, look at my gorgeous child." She kissed your forehead and pressed her own against it. "You've grown up so much. Your heart finally found someone to open up to. If you're willing to risk your life for it, then who am I to stop you?"

It felt like someone poured ice cold water on your body. You couldn't meet her in the eyes, not like this. Not when she was telling you that you should follow your heart and that if you were to die, then you might as well leave her to carry the burden of protecting Okhema forever.

"Y- You're not stopping me again." Your voice almost cracked, but you managed to take a sharp breath. "Why? Why won't you tell me to stop? If you're not going to forbid me from seeing him, at least knock some sense into me! Tell me I'm being ridiculous, that I should think of Okhema and my duties, that- that if I don't care about myself dying, then you'll die. I'll stop as soon as you tell me to. I don't want to hurt anyone…"

You had hoped she would yell at you. That, for the first time, you would finally see what Aglaea's anger was like when you were the recipient. Perhaps if you finally understood what it would be like to be on that end, it would knock that needed reason to your head and you'd finally understand just how stupid you were being.

But like always, Aglaea never did that. She just smiled. If you went through with this plan, would this be the last time you would see it? Would you really want to be the reason why that smile would never grace the earth again?

"Perhaps I trust your judgment," she said with a shrug. "Or perhaps it's something else that I understand. After all, if someone was able to make you lower your walls you've spent twelve years carefully putting up, then that must mean he's important to you."

"You're not worried that this is a trap?"

"It could be. But perhaps you just have to trust my instincts on this one. Something tells me that he can be reliable."

That wasn't helpful. If you relied on instincts just to tell if someone was reliable or not, then you would have been dead a long time ago. Or perhaps not. After all, your instincts always said that no person was reliable. And now, it was still telling you that Phainon belonged to that category of people. That it was better to be safe than to be sorry.

"Are you…" Your hands were shaking, and not even taking a deep breath could ease your anxiety. "Are you scared?"

"Of course I am." She pulled you closed for a hug, resting her head on your shoulders. "Even if I think he's reliable, that doesn't change the fact that I'm scared for you. I don't want the Council to take another child from me again."

Again?

The thought of Aglaea having a child before didn't sound too surprising. She felt like a natural at taking care of someone, almost as if she had been a mother before. She already knew what to do with you when she first took you in and seemed to understand you already. You had assumed that she must have taken someone in before, but you immediately brushed that thought away and chalked it up to her being a family friend. So to hear those words from her directly…

"You've… lost a child to the Council before?"

She met your reflection's gaze, fingers fixing your headpiece even though it was already properly in place. Perhaps she just needed to distract her fingers. "Her name was Cifera," she said. "She was just a regular girl, not a witch like you or me. She came from Dolos after the Black Tide destroyed her hometown. I asked her before if she wanted to stay with me instead of just occasionally helping me run the shop or eating with me, but she was an adventurous little thing. Always getting into troubles, too. Until one day… she stole from the wrong person, and they called her a witch because of it. She died very young… I think she would have been a little older than you if she were still here."

A shiver traveled down your spine. You knew killing children wasn't out of the question for the Council. You didn't believe it when you were younger, but you had watched enough executions to know that they would rid of anyone they found a witch, even if they were a child.

You didn't know what Cifera looked like. Perhaps you had passed her once before, and you simply didn't notice. Or perhaps your paths never crossed at all. But you wondered if there was a world out there where it was three people in front of this mirror. Where aside from Aglaea, she was here as well, and the two of you would be admiring the garments Aglaea made for you both.

"Is this your way of saying I shouldn't tell Phainon anything?" you asked. "Because it's working."

"It's my way of saying that I do not wish to see you die in the same way your mother or Cifera died, and I know that you won't." Another kiss to your forehead before pulling you in for another hug. "But if things do take a turn for the worse, then know I'll do whatever I can to protect you and take your place if needed. If he ends up not being like the man you thought he would be, then do not blame yourself. It's not your fault for falling in love."

Ah, that word. You didn't want to use that word. It made whatever it was you were feeling more real and not just the whims of your heart that you decided to follow like a fool. But of course, like always, Aglaea noticed it. Those perceptive eyes of hers could see everything. You were an even bigger fool for thinking she wouldn't realize it.

You grabbed the new cloak you made for Phainon from your closet. You had taken extra measures to make sure it would be perfect once he received it. Once you finished weaving, you took extra time with washing and even allowed yourself to use just a little bit of magic—both for the flowers you used as detergent, and for heating it up so it wouldn't be damp once the day arrived. And even right now, your fingers shook as you placed it inside your satchel, making sure it stayed folded while also not creasing.

You took a deep breath and offered your arm to Aglaea. "Let's hope Zagreus' coin flips in my favor today."

She locked her arm with yours and chuckled. "I'm sure it will."

After fixing your clothes for the nth time, you went down the stairs and out of the house. Usually, during this day, the first thing that would greet you were either children running past you, or the sound of vendors calling out to anyone they saw. The smell of food would hit you next, and you would either say your goodbyes to Aglaea as you two parted, or you would join her to get some snacks before meeting again later.

But those weren't the first things you noticed. Not this time. Instead, you first saw Phainon, standing in front of the house, and wearing the white set Aglaea had made for him. He hadn't noticed either of you yet, as he was too busy muttering something about his shoes matching his clothes. When Aglaea cleared her throat, he jumped up slightly and faced you both. His mouth opened, but no words left him. Instead, his jaw dropped even more, and his eyes widened.

"Wow… I mean- wow. Wow. You look… I- wow." He cleared his throat as well and stood taller. "You look beautiful too, Lady Aglaea. You- you two really dressed up. I suddenly feel underdressed."

Aglaea crossed her arms and hummed. "You feel underdressed despite the fact that we're all wearing clothes made by the same seamstress. Is this a slight against me?"

"What? No, no, no! I didn't mean- I meant- I just—I'm so sorry. Can I start over?"

Aglaea leaned towards you and whispered, "If you ever find me saying I do not accept him, know it's because I think you can do better and not because of the other thing."

Your eyes widened. If someone told you your face was on fire, you'd believe them. "A- Aglaea!"

"Why?" Phainon asked. "What did she say?"

Of course, Aglaea's response was only a chuckle. She waved her hand in the air and only shot you both a sly smile. Quite uncharacteristic of her, which only served to make your face hotter. "I have matters to attend to, which includes the Council of Elders pandering to me just so I can continue funding them for the next year. You two enjoy your night, and do not forget to pick up a lucky cookie before midnight."

And she left, disappearing in the sea of people.

When you turned to Phainon, he was still staring at you with that same wide-eyed look from earlier. He took a deep breath, followed by an even longer sigh. "You're… you look- you're really beautiful, by the way. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought Aglaea was the real God of Romance and that you made a deal with her to look that beautiful."

"Heh." You flicked your eyes to the side. "Guess you can say she's… very blessed." You immediately shook your head and grabbed his hand. "Come on, there's this stall here that sells my favorite skewers only on Spirit Day. You'll love it!"

"Wait, wait, the ground is icy I'll slip—"

You dragged Phainon all around the streets of Okhema. How many skewers had you eaten? How come it still wasn't enough to make you feel satisfied that you had to buy more despite feeling like your stomach was about to burst? And why was Phainon insisting that you should also get some salad to eat because he swore it was better than any Dromas or cloudsheep skewers that you were making him taste?

"No, no, you're not drinking another bottle of ambrosia again!" He grabbed your hand before you can make your purchase. "You've drank three bottles already and that was just two weeks ago. Let's just… have olive juice together. I don't want you passing out before midnight."

You rolled your eyes. Despite that, you chuckled at his words. "Alright, alright. Olive juice it is. Do you want some pie pockets with that? There's some grape pie here, or how about some duck instead?"

When was the last time you enjoyed the Spirit Day like this? When you were younger, you always clung to Aglaea's side and hide behind everyone's judging stares. And as you grew older, you either stayed in the house or sat in one place while Aglaea did all of the socializing. But tonight? Tonight, you watched and laughed as Phainon tried to shoot balls in a hoop that you both swore was rigged.

"I could have sworn I'm actually shooting them," he muttered as he kicked the snowy ground. His only reward was a vegetable ball, to which he shuddered after eating it. "It's bland… I can make salads better than this."

"You… sure do love salads, don't you?"

"Of course I do. There's a lot of things you can make with a salad. Tuna, vegetable, fruit, chicken, even Cery salad. It's quick to make, and there's a lot of varieties." He stopped in his tracks for a moment. Before you could ask, the smile on his face returned, and he dragged you by the wrist. "There's a dance at Kephale Plaza. Come on, let's join!"

"D- Dance? Phainon, I've never danced with anyone before!"

"You're in luck—neither have I. Let's step on our toes together, then!"

Before you knew it, he had placed his palm against yours, and the two of you followed the same dance as everyone else. You weren't really sure what you were doing. None of your teachers taught you how to dance, as you never saw the reason to do so. Once or twice, maybe even more than thrice, you nearly stepped on another dancer's foot. Phainon had to drag you by the waist when you nearly bumped into another dancer. When you almost stepped on his foot again, you kept your eyes down, watching your steps.

"Is the ground really that much more interesting to you?" he asked, and you could hear his smile from his tone.

"Unfortunately, it has to be unless I want to step on another person again."

Phainon pulled you towards him, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other held your stretched hand. Before you could hit him again, you placed your free hand below his shoulder blade. You flicked your gaze up for a moment. His face was so close to you to the point where only his eyes filled your vision, but you could still see a hint of a smile.

"I think I don't mind if I end up with a missing toe if it means I get to look at you like this," he whispered as he spun you around, then held your shoulder again to stop you.

You scoffed. "I think you would regret that sentiment in the morning."

"True, but I'd rather regret that regret not being able to do this."

Once the dance finished, you placed one arm in front and one behind as you bowed, to which Phainon mirrored your gesture. When he stood tall again, he chuckled. "See? That wasn't so bad."

You lightly knocked your knuckles against his chest, which just made him laugh louder. "Don't ask me to carry you if your little feet hurt."

"So will you carry me if they're not hurting, then?"

You gasped, but a laugh still followed afterwards. "You know what I mean!"

"Nope. Unfortunately, I do not." After his laughter faded, he looked at the sky before back at you. "Seems like the Thief Shower is about to start soon. How about we grab a lucky cookie from the main banquet and go back to that place I showed you? It's unfair that I showed you the most beautiful in all of Okhema, but we only got to go there once. On an unpleasant night, no less."

He reached out his hand to you. Your hand faltered for a moment, but you still accepted his offer. The two of you grabbed a lucky cookie from the feast table and sneaked out. Every inch of Okhema's streets was filled with people right now, be it merchants or just people celebrating the occasion, so he had to guide you to the alleyways before leading you back to that place again.

You didn't have a lot of time left. There was at least an hour, or perhaps less, before Zagreus' Thief Star would turn into the Thief Shower. While a single Thief Star signaled the end of the day, a Thief Shower would signal the end of the year, and that the Month of Fortune had come to a close while the Month of Gate opened its doors for a new beginning. You remembered the view of the stars when he took you there that night. Perhaps the Thief Shower would look prettier there.

After a while, the two of you reached that spot again. It would be difficult to lie down now that the frost covering the grass had turned into a small layer of snow. Before you could sit down, Phainon removed his tattered cloak and laid it on the ground.

"After you," he said with a small bow.

"Why thank you."

When the two of you sat down, he chuckled and leaned back on his hands. "What a night. I can't believe the year's almost over. Felt like it was just yesterday when I first arrived in Okhema."

"I've never had such an eventful year before."

"Really? You look like the type of person that always has something exciting going on."

"If you call me talking to my flowers for half a year and then locking myself in my room for the other 'exciting', then sure. I have the best life anyone can think of."

"They'll definitely write poems about your adventures. Like how you downed at least one bottle of ambrosia a week for the past month."

"Hey, can you blame me? I was—"

You immediately paused. Right. You had spent so much time enjoying the night eating, playing games together, and even dancing that you forgot about the other thing. It was a good thing you remembered it before the year could end. You had a feeling there was only a few minutes left before the Thief Shower, and you would kick yourself if you forgot about another cloak this time.

"I was busy with something," you continued, fingers clutching the snow beneath you. With a deep breath, you opened your bag and took the cloak out. "I was busy with something for you.

Phainon's brows raised as he took the cloak from you. "This is?"

"Do you remember the night you gave me your cloak and I forgot to return it? I saw that it was a little tattered, so I asked Aglaea if she could teach me how to make one. I just finished it last week after working on it since the Month of Mourning."

Phainon unfolded the cloak and unfolded it in front of you both. The bottom was a dark shade of blue, almost black, and slowly rose into lighter until the hood was a regular blue color. Golden embroideries decorated the bottom, most of them resembling rays of the dawn, and stretched upwards. And of It was just like like the cape Aglaea made for the outfit he was wearing right now, though this one wasn't as elegant as hers.

"I hope you like it," you muttered.

His eyes were wide as he scanned the cloak, flipping it back and fourth to examine the second side. It was a single shade of gold, and even darker gold patterns decorated the inside. "You made this for me?"

"I know it's nothing like what Aglaea makes. I mean, nothing will ever compare to whatever she makes. And it's also my first time—"

Phainon placed a hand on your shoulder, making you look at him. And as always, the smile on his face was soft and gentle that you just kept your lips pursed instead of running your mouth. "I love it."

"Y- You do?"

"Of course." He wrapped the cloak around himself and sealed the hook and eye together. "Sure, it's not Lady Aglaea's work, but you still made something beautiful for me. Thank you. Now I feel bad that I didn't manage to get you anything. Is this tradition in Okhema to give gifts during Spirit Day, or is it just an actual tradition that I was never made aware about?"

He was smiling. He was smiling. Why did he have to smile right now? Why did that smile always make your heart beat faster and make you feel like you were losing air? Did you really want to ruin the mood right now? Were you really to break whatever was between you both because you were selfish? Would you really be happy if you did this?

It seemed like he noticed your mood shift. His smile fell, and his brows furrowed down. "Everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong? You can tell me, you know."

Deep breaths. You just took a deep breath and sighed. "Actually… there's something I want to tell you. Phainon—"

"Khaslana."

You looked up. His smile wasn't there, but his gaze was still soft. Brows raised, lips a straight line, and eyes staring right at something only he could see. He looked like a completely different person.

No, that was wrong. It was just like that night, in the exact same place. You were just seeing another side of him. And unlike that day, where you only caught a glimpse, he was fully opening that side to you.

He leaned closer and placed his hand on top of yours. "My real name is Khaslana," he whispered, followed by a sigh that made the fog cover half of his face. "Not even Lygus knows my real name. So… please. Call me Khaslana when it's just the two of us."

Khaslana. It was a name that sounded so much different from Phainon. And since he was willing to tell you this… your cheeks felt warmer now. "You really trust me that much, huh?"

"Of course I do. You've become important to me now."

"In such a short time span?"

He hummed and pressed a finger on your forehead. "You're changing the subject."

You had hoped he didn't realize that. A small chuckle left you, before you sighed again. "Khaslana… I need to tell you something."

"What is it?"

He as even closer now to the point where you could feel his breath on your face. Warm, just like the sunlight. He was the sunlight.

You were up in a mountain, but you could hear the festivities of Okhema from down below. It seemed like the Thief Meteor was about to fall any moment now.

"I know you've been suspicious of me since we met," you whispered. "I know that, in the beginning, you were just trying to get close to me and trying to actually see if I was a witch or not. I know that no one was able to convince you to stop investigating me just because I'm Aglaea's child, and- and I know so much. I've lost sleep wondering just how much you knew and if I can really be safe around you. Even when I stopped being paranoid, a part of me is still worried right now that, as soon as I tell you the truth, I'll be as good as dead. And- and I'm clearly dragging all of this just because I don't want to- don't want to say anything. But…"

You took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"You're right. Whatever you used to think about me, you were right. I am a witch."

He didn't say anything, which made you hold your breath. What would he say? What would he do? You had replayed this scenario countless times in your head now, but you never knew what direction fate would take you. Should you pull away? Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was his way of saying that you should go.

Before you could move, he placed one hand on your shoulder again. The other lifted your chin up, making both of your eyes meet. Oh, his eyes. Bright and blue, just like a clear sunny day.

If the sun were to never rise again, you could just look at those eyes and would instantly remember what it felt like to sit on the rooftop and watch the dawn.

"You're right," he whispered. "I always had a feeling that you were, and I never let go of that thought. But you're wrong about something. Whatever I used to think about you before… I was completely wrong about that. I was completely wrong about you. And… and now, I know that I was completely wrong about everything I believed in."

He grabbed one of your hands and placed it on his mouth. "Will you say my name?" he asked. "My real one."

You gulped. If you kept gulping like this, you might swallow your tongue next. But still, you took another deep breath. "K- Khaslana?"

He kissed your gloved palms, making you hold your breath. "Again… please."

"Khaslana."

He kissed each knuckle before leaning forward once more. "Again, please… I haven't heard anyone say my name in twelve years… it's- I need to hear it from you."

Your brows furrowed down. "Do you… not hate me?"

"Hate you?" He shook his head. "I care about you. Why would I hate you?"

The Thief Shower fell. Just as his lips met yours.

Everything about Phainon was soft. From his eyes, to the way his bangs would brush against his forehead, to his smile. You remembered the times you wondered if it was a façade. A front he was putting up so he could come closer and you could lower your guard, then kill you when the time was right.

But you were wrong. Oh, so wrong. Because even Khaslana was soft. His lips, his kiss, the way he held your chin to pull you closer. If you didn't know he was a witch hunter before this, then you wouldn't have thought that someone as soft and gentle as this was a witch hunter.

All those nights you spent tossing and turning, wondering what his reaction would be once he knew the truth… none of them involved this. Nothing could prepare you for this.

Gods, your hands. You had hands. Where would you even put them right now? Could you even move right now? You were just frozen in place, hands pinned on the ground and eyes wide as Khaslana kissed you with his eyes closed. With a mental shake of your head, you closed your eyes and leaned your head towards him. You had no idea what to do, so you just prayed that he somehow already knew it.

He was the first one to part. When you opened your eyes and caught your breaths, he was already staring at you. The hand not touching your chin caressed your cheek. Before you knew it, he kissed you again. This time, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, returning his kiss.

It was like you were in a completely different world right now. There were no witch hunters, no Council of Elders, and no death awaiting you someday. You were a witch kissing the man you fell in love with.

When you parted a second time, you pressed your forehead against his and panted, catching your breaths. Despite that, a small chuckle left your lips. "You made me panic for six months and then have the audacity to kiss me? I should kill you right now."

"You could." He shrugged. "Or, you could kiss me again."

"Don't push your luck." Despite your words, you pressed another soft kiss on his lips. A quick one, unlike the one he gave you, but still a kiss.

You stayed with him for a while. The two of you just sat there, your head on his shoulder and his arms around your waist. Your eyes were heavy, but you didn't mind if you fell asleep this time. You knew Khaslana would just carry you back home, anyway.

"I think I owe Aglaea after this," you muttered after a while. "She wasn't being pushy, but she did encourage me. No doubt I'll hear an 'I told you so' after this."

"Really?" He chuckled as he kissed your temple. "Did she… say anything else about me?"

"Nothing much except that I should lower my walls a little around you so I won't be too paranoid and obvious. Why do you ask?"

"You mean she never told you about the time she pointed a giant needle sword at me when I snuck inside her house and looked for your room?"

Your eyes widened, and you sat taller. "She what? She never told me that happened!"

"Oh, she didn't? Well, whoops. You never heard me say anything. Hey, how are those lucky cookies? Weren't we supposed to open them as soon as the Thief Shower fell?"

"The—oh." You grabbed the lucky cookies from your satchel. Both were still intact, fortunately. "You're lucky that this is a good distraction, or else I would have interrogated you about that time."

"Well, I hope it's not too late, then." He accepted his cookie from you. "Do you think one of us will get a silver coin?"

The thought made you snort. "I think I've had enough blessings from Zagreus for the year, thanks."

The two of you broke your cookies at the same time. Khaslana placed one half of his cookies in his mouth before taking the slip of paper inside. "The truth shall set your heart free. What do you know, this cookie is accurate. Any chance these are also magic? Or did I just have a really lucky start to the new year?"

You couldn't believe this. He was asking you about magic, as if that was the most natural thing in the world. It made you realize that your heart still hadn't calmed down from the fact that, just moments ago, you were worried that you would have to hide yourself from him forever. If it weren't for how much your stomach was doing flips, you would have thought you were dreaming.

"I would love it if a cookie was able to dictate how my life would go for the next year, but I always get the ones that don't make any sense." You grabbed the slip of paper and unrolled it. "The warmth you've always known will grow cold, but you will not see the fire die out. See? What does this even mean? Do you want the other half of my cookie? I don't like raisins, anyway."

Khaslana grabbed one half from you as you ate the other. Once the both of you finished, he stood up and offered his hand. "Let me walk you home. I don't want Lady Aglaea to think I've kidnapped you somehow, and I think I'd rather not be at the end of her needle again."

"I still cannot believe that she hid that from me." You grabbed his old cloak from the ground and accepted his hand. Even when you passed it back to him, he just chuckled. "But I think she's not worried about that."

Your fingers locked with his as the two of you walked down the mountain at the same time. You hadn't realized just how stiff his palms were until now. Definitely callous from all of the rigorous training he did in the past. You remembered the time he was able to carry his large sword with just one hand, and you still had no idea how he managed to do it.

By the time you both arrived at Okhema again, the festivities had died down. People were either closing their stalls or leaving their places. There were still some trash left in the street, but you knew that nobody wanted to clean that. At least, not right now. Someone would be back in the morning and sweep all the dirt alongside the snow.

It seemed like Aglaea was still awake, as there was a faint orange glow coming from one of the windows. As soon as you reached the front door, it immediately opened. Her brows were furrowed down, but when her gaze flicked downwards, a small smile formed on her face. "Welcome home, my darling."

You returned her smile. "Glad to be home."

"It's getting late now. Come in."

With a nod, you turned to him again. "Thank you for walking me back, Phai—Khaslana. Goodnight."

Khaslana smiled. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss on the back. "Goodnight."

You didn't realize just how tired you were until you entered Aglaea's house. You were never this tired after a Spirit Day before. Perhaps it was the dancing. Or perhaps it was the fact that you could finally breathe easily after worrying for nearly half a year that you were going to die. And now, you could go back to your bed and sleep without worrying about what tomorrow would bring.

"So." Aglaea's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Did you have fun?"

You sat down on one of the couches and took a deep breath, followed by an even longer sigh. Your feet were aching after all the walking and dancing, your stomach was aching from the amount of food you ached, and you were sleepy. Thank the gods that Khaslana convinced you to drink olive juice rather than another bottle of ambrosia, or else you would regret once morning arrived.

And most of all, you had the best night of your life.

You lifted your head and looked at her. "Aglaea?"

"Yes?"

"Mind telling me the story of the time you pointed your needle sword at him when he tried sneaking it during that morning?"

Aglaea chuckled. "Perhaps another time, child. Perhaps another time. But you should go to sleep now." She stood in front of you and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Goodnight."

A sigh left your lips. "Yes. Goodnight."

Taglist: @dear-mydeimos @rukiatheloml @maivqs @keigoloveminty @teyvat-inks @nshasy @byeohzu @maxiine @leviniar @paleocarcharias @sloppygoblin420 @arluene7688 @1horsewithnoname @kayla-drawz @zlahn @nineworks @hipsdofangirl @liiilylooolyy @argentits @3lectraheart @yetchann @asoundofdrop @ourserendipity @spacechipairstrip @lurulu-ru @speedycoffeedelight @roseapov @lilychan176 @aethenawhosp

[nineworks]

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done to me, betrayer Throw your stones and stab me with your hateful stares Curtain call, the final act so say your prayers So long to you beloved traitor."

「 ✦ LOWER ONE'S EYES ✦ 」

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾ After you lost your mother to the witch hunts as a child, you've spent the better years of your life living with a family friend and making sure that the Council of Elders won't figure out you're one as well. Unfortunately, things take a turn for the worse when a new witch hunter who is said to have an accurate killing streak arrives in the city, and his eyes are set on you.

you are here | part 2 ⟶

Word count: 16410 Reading time: 1h 22m Featuring: reader, phainon, aglaea, lygus Other characters: caenis, anaxa, cyrene, cipher (mentioned), tribios (mentioned), hyacine Tags: all tags are applicable to the fic as a whole and not just the part posted, major character death, written before 3.5, alternate universe, potential ooc, slowburn (im serious phainon doesn't appear until maybe 5k words in), gn reader, no use of y/n or [name], witch hunts, not time period accurate, bittersweet ending, implied grooming, gets suggestive at some point but no nsfw content, aglaea as reader's adoptive mother, implied aglanaxa if you squint, reader has trust issues and still refuses to trust phainon 30k words in, phainon is refered to as flame reaver at the start and khaslana near the end, slight edits made, no beta please kill me already Notes: If this is your first time interacting with me or my works, please read my rules beforehand. hey remember when i said i was worried that the witch hunter!phainon x witch!reader fic was going to finish at 25k but then i thought it might end at 30k but it finished at 42k before edits. ha. hahahahahaha. its at 64k words. and since i refuse to post something that long on tumblr, i decided to split it into parts. part 2 will be posted in three days. while the fic isnt based on it, the title and chapter titles are from lower one's eyes. specifically, the english cover by trickle. give it a listen if you have the time! it slaps at it was my #1 song on spotify wrapped during 2022. youll never guess what #2 was (it was the original version). thank you all for listening to my yapping and enjoy the fic!

I. A Last Supper With Nothing to Say

You were ten when it happened. And yet, the memory was still so clear in your head.

Night had just fallen, and your mother was cooking a hearty Dromas stew in the kitchen of your cottage. You had lost your father to the Black Tide recently, but your mother never stopped smiling. Even right now, as you heard her repeatedly say, "It's just dinner for two", she didn't look sad. If she didn't look sad, why would you be? You were always happy in your home, after all. It was just like any other night. The only difference was that your father was being happy in the Nether Realm with Thanatos now instead of with you and your mother.

It was supposed to be just like any other night. But when your mother placed the bowl of stew on your side of the table, someone knocked three times. The first round was gentle, and you had thought that your father came back from the Nether Realm and was about to tell you stories about Thanatos. The second round was still the same, but your mother told you to sit still and let her deal with the guests. And when the person knocked a third time, it was angrier, almost as if they were planning to break your door if your mother didn't open it any time soon.

When your mother opened the door, someone from the Council of Elders came in with witch hunters behind her. The woman, Caenis, had accused your mother of witchcraft. That she was the reason why your father died. She had bewitched him, and then used the Black Tide to kill him and to make her dark magic stronger.

You were confused when you heard her accusatory words. But before you could say a word, your mother had used a spell to keep your lips sealed. By the time that the spell wore off, your mother followed Caenis and her witch hunters, leaving you alone in your cottage.

You already knew what was going on. You knew what happened if someone was found guilty— even found guilty, just declared guilty—of witchcraft. It was an immediate execution. They rarely did investigations. If someone, especially someone from the Council of Elders, called someone a witch, a trial was useless. Their minds were already set that the person was guilty. They considered witchcraft as an insult to the gods, a blasphemous act that as associated with the corruption that was the Black Tide, so they would want the witch to be gone as soon as possible.

But you and your mother were witches. The two of you had spent your entire lives hiding from the Council just so no one would know the truth. Unfortunately, it was too late. It was a lost cause now.

Somehow, your mother had convinced the Council that you were innocent. That you were just a child, unaware of the sins she committed. Though they were still suspicious of you, you were spared from the death penalty. Even as a child, you knew you weren't above the law. You had heard from gossip before that even children your age were executed if they were declared witches. You had no idea how you escaped punishment. Perhaps it was your mother's last act of magic to save you from an early death.

And so, there you were, running to Kephale Plaza while crying and yelling to anyone who would listen. You grabbed for clothes or scarves, falling to your knees, hoping even just one person would listen to you. Your mother had no connections to the Black Tide; no witch was. In fact, you were all protecting everyone from the Black Tide from advancing forward. She was innocent, and the Council was about to kill her despite her lack of crime.

But only one person picked you up from the ground: Aglaea, your parents' friend and another witch in hiding. Among all of the people, she was the only one who thought of picking you up from the ground and making sure you didn't get crushed or stepped on. Even when you tried to run to your mother's pyre, she grabbed your hand and buried your face in her chest.

"Don't look, child," she whispered. "Please… don't look."

You couldn't remember if your mother screamed or cried that night. Everything was too loud. From the people all screaming, "Burn the witch!", to the sound of the fire as another member of the Council lit the dry hay up, to your blood roaring in your ears. You held on to Aglaea, the last anchor in your life, while everyone watched and cheered as the flames took your last family member away.

Aglaea told you to not look, but you still did. You still saw it. You saw how your mother looked at you with tears falling down her reddening eyes. Her hands were tied to a stake, so she was unable to run away from the fire ate away her hair, her dress, and soon her skin. But even so, you could never recall what her mouth looked like in that moment. Were they opened, screaming in agony? Were they closed, showing you one final smile? Or were they moving, telling you one last message that you couldn't recall no matter how many times you replayed that memory?

You never left that spot. Even when people finally parted. Even when all of Okhema fell asleep, and even when dawn was rising on the horizon. You remained there, kneeling in front of the ashes that was once your mother. Aglaea never left your side, either. You were thirsty, your stomach growled, but neither of you moved until lunchtime. Since you didn't sleep or eat the entire night, you had no energy to protest against Aglaea's suggestion of returning to her house.

The Black Tide took your father. And now, the people who feared it took your mother.

You were ten when it happened, but you still understood what this meant: all eyes were on you. It didn't matter that your mother convinced the Council that you were innocent. Any wrong move, and they would realize she had lied to them. And if people found out about that, you were next.

When Aglaea finished making lunch, she placed the bowl of salad. "Darling, I know it's too soon… but for your safety, you'll be living with me from now on."

Her words snapped you out of your thoughts. You lifted your head up and met her soft gaze. "Live… live with you?"

"Your… your parents and I had talked about it already. I agreed that, if the day came that you would be all alone, I'll let you live with me. It will keep you safe. No one would dare to accuse the main sponsor of the council of witchcraft, let alone the child she's taken in."

That was true. Aglaea grew up in wealth, with her money regularly funding the Council of Elders. It was how she had always managed to avoid suspicion. Even if people suspected she could be a witch, they wouldn't want to lose their main benefactor.

"I can provide you with anything you need," she continued. "I can teach you magic. I'll teach you the spell that's been protecting Okhema from the Black Tide. Do you know Anaxagoras? He's not just a professor, but also a witch, and I can have him teach you both basic education and magic. If you want, I'll teach you how to use a needle and work in my shop. What do you say?"

You took a spoonful of the salad. Aglaea's cooking was always excellent. During the times you and your family received her food, you always loved how flavorful they were. But right now, everything was bland.

"I… I don't know." Your eyes were burning, but no tears fell. "I want to stay in our house, too… Mama has a lot of flowers that I wanna take care of. And… And Dad always said he made the cottage for them after they got married, and…"

She sighed and patted your head, taking the seat next to you. "It's alright, I understand. I just don't think it's safe for a child to live alone now. You don't know how dangerous these streets can be."

She was right again. You doubted you could live off the streets, and it would just increase the chances of people thinking you were a witch.

Aglaea hummed. "How about this? You still live with me, but you can go to your cottage anytime you want, and I'll accompany you. Once you're older, you can choose to live back home if you want, or you can stay with me if you wish. Does that sound better?"

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell her that you would rather sleep on your own bed, wake up to the smell of earth outside your own window, and talk to your own flowers as if they were your friends. But the same thought echoed in your head. Eyes were on you. Any wrong move, and it could be you at the stake. Any wrong move, and not even Aglaea could help you.

You had no choice but to nod. "Okay… Thank you, Lady Aglaea."

She smiled and patted your head again. "Of course. Anytime, child."

That was how your life went for the next few years. Aglaea took you in and raised you as if you were her own. Every morning, she treated you to a delicious breakfast. In turn, you would help her in her tailor shop whenever you could. At eleven, you did the basic tasks she asked for. Fetch me my needle. Get the tape measurer. Hold this basket. At twelve, you started mending simple things, like a broken button or a ripped seam. Occasionally, a customer would shoot you a suspicious stare. But at the sight of Aglaea's crossed arms, they would immediately purse their lips and not even glance at you anymore.

When both of you had free time, you returned to your cottage. Sometimes, you would clean it up. But most of the time, you attended to the plants and flowers in your garden. Even if you wanted to talk to them, which you rarely had the energy to do so, you had to keep your lips pursed. Talking to flowers could be a sign of witchcraft. You didn't want to risk anything.

Before the sun would set, you two would return to Aglaea's house, where she would teach you one of three things—how to cook, how to sew… and how to use your magic.

She taught you her own magic of sewing and making clothes. When there was a topic out of her scope, she would schedule a session with Professor Anaxa, a teacher and another witch in Okhema, where he would tutor you with not just magic, but also basic education. Most importantly of all, she taught you the spell that protected Okhema from the Black Tide.

"It differs from witch to witch," she said when you learned about the spell for the first time. She pinched the air, and golden threads appeared between her fingers. "For instance, my way of protecting Okhema is wrapping the city in invisible golden threads and creating a barrier. But I also have to be careful, and the spell can't be too strong. If it is, the Council and witch hunters will be able to sense it and connect the spell back to me. Overusing my magic can also tire me out quickly, and it would cause the barrier to break."

You nodded. "Lady Aglaea… if we're protecting Okhema from the Black Tide, then why does everyone think witches are behind it?"

She sighed and pulled you closer to herself, arms wrapped around your form. "That's because the Black Tide is magic. More specifically, residue of magic that witches should be regularly cleansing, or else it will corrupt. But people took it to mean that if witches no longer existed, then the Black Tide wouldn't as well."

"But if there's lesser witches, then wouldn't that mean the Black Tide would just stay corrupted?"

"It's impressive that even a child like you understood that," she said with a chuckle." Unfortunately, most people don't. And now that the Black Tide has been growing worse in some locations, it would take a lot of witches to cleanse it. So, the best we can do now is to block it from advancing, and hope that we'll have enough witches in the future to clean it."

Aglaea poked your nose, earning a small giggle from you. "I sense greatness from you," she continued. "I know you'll be more powerful than me, and your own barriers will be stronger than mine. And who knows? Perhaps in the future, you'll be able to change Okhema and gather enough powerful witches to finally clean the Black Tide."

And being the curious and nosy child that you were, you immediately asked Professor Anaxa about it when you went to his study the next day. Your response was a sigh and him closing the scroll he was reading, before gesturing you to sit on the couch across him.

"So she's burdening you with that task at such a young age," he said as he crossed his arms. "No matter. She needs a successor, after all, and you're young enough to take her place when the day comes. I don't usually send people my thoughts and prayers, but it seems like you would need it."

"You don't sound so happy to hear that, Professor Anaxa."

"That's Anaxagoras to you," he said with a frown, which only deepened when you giggled. "And yes, I'm not really fond with this tradition of ours. However, it's not my place to scare you about it. Let that woman do it for you once you're older."

"Is there a reason why only she can do it?"

"She doesn't have to do it by herself. In fact, there used to be some cities that had more than one witch cast the spell, but it's difficult to perform. If even one witch falters, then the other has to overwork or else it risks danger." His single eye turned to you, which seemed to glow in the dimness of his study. "If you ask me, I'd rather you not worry about protecting Okhema by yourself and would prefer to see a life where everyone can cleanse the Black Tide instead. But unfortunately, such a future is still out of reach. Let's just hope this placeholder task will last us long enough."

And when you told Aglaea his response, the two of them bickered again the next time they saw each other, to which you watched with amusement.

When the first day of a new month would arrive, she would always make sure that the two of you would celebrate it, even if it was just in secret. You learned that her strongest moon was the Month of Weaving, with her patron god being the God of Romance, Mnestia. It was also when her main magic of weaving would be stronger, and the garments she crafted would be more beautiful than ever.

Your own magic also grew stronger over the years. It took a while, but you soon started dedicating yourself to Georios, the God of the Earth. Originally, you wanted to dedicate yourself to Cerces, like your mother. It was said they also watched over the cultivation of plant life and nature in Amphoreus. But Aglaea and Professor Anaxa had convinced you otherwise, saying that you shouldn't burden yourself with the pursuit of knowledge if you simply wanted to take care of your garden.

"Besides," he said during one of his lessons, "you should feel honored that you're dedicating yourself to the God of the Earth. After all, they created the Dromas. What better god to serve than that?"

And you knew that, when the topic would shift to his favorite creatures, the only proper answer was to listen and nod. So, when the Month of Cultivation came, you swore yourself to the Pillar of Stone.

The entire time, Aglaea never stopped taking care of you. She was natural at being a mother. Once or twice, the word "Mom" would almost leave your lips, but you always managed to stop yourself from embarrassment. Still, it was almost like she had her own child before. But since she never mentioned anything, you just assumed she already knew what to do.

By the time you were seventeen, she was finally confident enough to let you live all by yourself and return to your family cottage. So, you returned home, this time all by yourself. Opening the door was like opening a frozen memory. You regularly cleaned it up, so no cobwebs hung from the ceiling or dust gathered on the surface. Even the dishes were clean. It was like nothing had changed. Your mother was still going to come downstairs, telling you she had a new spell ready for you to learn. Or that your father would enter through the back door, greeting you both with a hug and telling you the stories of how he helped fight off the Black Tide.

For the first year, your routine was monotonous. Wake up, tend to your garden, help Aglaea in her shop, then go home. When it was the Calamity Season, you would sometimes stay in Aglaea's house again since you had nothing to do during the winter. At some point, she started asking for your flowers for her garments. Every time people started asking her where she got her flowers, to which she always would redirect them to you. Eventually, they started talking to you. Asking if you still had some of those flowers and if they could buy some. As if a few days ago, they wouldn't even want you to buy food from the market in fear of you somehow poisoning them.

Fortunately, with Aglaea's help, you were able to put up a flower shop in front of your cottage. If people walked near your house, they might see your beautiful garden, then purchase either a bouquet or a pot from you. Sometimes, but most especially during the Month of Joy, you would go to the marketplace and sell flowers to people who walked by.

And whenever you sold your flowers in the street, your ears always picked up the same conversation from everyone.

"Isn't that the witch's kid? Those flowers are probably cursed, then. Why are people buying? Aren't they worried?"

"Hey, that's Lady Aglaea's kid you're talking about. Why would she sponsor a witch when she's a devoted follower of Mnestia? You think she'd tolerate someone who's a disgrace to the gods?"

You always released your breath every time you heard those conversations. You were safe for now.

For now.

You didn't know how long this safety would last. But you didn't worry about it for now. The important part was that, even though people were still suspicious of you, they feared Aglaea more to actually do anything. And that was enough.

II. Shutting a Throat So Singed, I Don’t Have a Word That Won’t Sting

It had been twelve years ever since you lost your parents. With those twelve years, it felt like Okhema barely changed. In fact, like the Black Tide, it felt like it got worse. With Okhema being the largest city in Amphoreus, it accepted more refugees from cities or villages, the population wasn't the only thing that grew. There was also the paranoia.

Back then, while witch hunts were common, it still wasn't a regular occurrence. You didn't hear witch accusations just by walking the street, or wouldn't assume that another missing merchant meant the Council took another one for questioning. Now, you keep hearing that the Council shouldn't be accepting refugees that would bring the Black Tide with them, or that security should be stricter for people's safety.

It was all ironic. If only they knew that the strongest witch in the city was single-handedly protected them all from the very thing they believed witches caused. If they actually understood what they were afraid of, they wouldn't have this issue in the first place.

Sometimes, you had to attend the executions with Aglaea. While you couldn't be there for every one of them, it felt like basic courtesy to be there. To silently mourn an innocent soul, witch or not, that no one would even make a grave for. After all, if you didn't mourn for them, no one would.

With the rise in people entering Okhema also saw the rise of witch hunters pouring in. Nothing changed in your life. It just meant you had more people to be wary of. But still, you couldn't help but feel like things have been a bit… eerie.

You couldn't remember when it started. Perhaps it was a few months ago, perhaps it was even longer than you initially thought. But something changed.

You didn't know every witch in Okhema for safety reasons, but you knew the ones Aglaea introduced you to. There was the young man who tended to the Dromases and would use his magic to make their feed healthier. Then, there was the kind old lady who you always bought fruits from and would sometimes share you secrets on how to properly care for your plants, even during the colder seasons. Another one was a person your age, still trying to find out what their talent was going to be. You couldn't know them on a more personal level, but you knew them enough to be acquaintances.

And you would never be able to know them better, because all three of them were dead. Gone. Devoured by the same fire that took your mother.

It was then when you heard the gossip. A new witch hunter had arrived, someone who the Council was confident had an accurate nose. You didn't catch his name, but you did hear the nickname they gave him: Flame Reaver. He came from a small and unheard village called Aedes Elysiae, and a member of the Council left Okhema for a few years to train him personally.

"I doubt he's as good as they claim him to be," you told Aglaea when you delivered the yarrow she asked for. "I'm sure it's just pure chance that he's killing the "right" ones. If you kill seven people and four of them end up being witches, of course you'll think you're good at your job."

"Let the Council declare what they want to declare," she replied as she weaved the yarrow into a headpiece. "It makes them feel better about themselves and think they're "cleaning" the world from darkness."

"A little hard for me to do that." You scoffed and crossed your arms. "It's hard to let them do whatever they want when it's affecting so many lives permanently. I can't just sit idly and watch as they kill anyone in Okhema that questions their authority. At this rate, no one will be able to protect them from the Black Tide."

"Your spirit is strong." She turned around and faced you. Twelve years had passed since she first took you in, but she still looked at you with those soft eyes and smile. Aglaea placed a hand on your face, brushing away a bit of dirt that got on your cheek. "A strong spirit might not be enough to change the world, but it can be a spark for change. Just remember to be safe as well. Be a fire that guides people in the dark, not a fire that destroys without a thought."

You returned Aglaea's smile and pulled her in for a hug. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to stay safe."

You had gotten used to the chaos of Okhema that the next week was surprisingly peaceful. No fingers being pointed at each other, no mobs knocking on doors and dragging people to the Marmoreal Temple for questioning, no strife in general. While most people basked in the peace, your skin prickled. Something was off. Something was extremely off. This wasn't a breath of fresh air, this was the calm before the storm.

And your fears proved to be true.

The peace was cut short. Unsurprisingly, there was another execution. You had no plans to attend it. It was sundown, and you had just finished selling flowers in the street. You just wanted to go home. But just as you were about to leave the marketplace, your ears caught the name of the person being executed, and you immediately froze in your tracks.

Professor Anaxa.

Yourteacher. The one who had convinced you to not burden yourself with Cerces' teachings, just like him, and pursue a gentler and more lax god like Georios. The one who taught you not just magic, but general knowledge that you could use in your everyday life.

This was bound to happen someday. It was the thought that repeated in your head as you ran to Kephale Plaza. Professor Anaxa was already a controversial figure. People saw him as a heretic, a madman, a blasphemous scholar. He always insulted the gods at any opportunity he got and saw no reason to respect them. In fact, it was a miracle it took them this long to get him. He practiced alchemy in broad daylight, and no one seemed to bat an eye.

It was bound to happen someday.

You pulled your hood up and joined the crowd.

Even Aglaea was expecting it.

Your feet picked up their pace.

Professor Anaxa always said that his execution might as well happen tomorrow, so they didn't need to delay the inevitable.

The crowd was large, larger than it usually was. It was as if everyone in Okhema was here to watch and celebrate someone's death. When you saw Professor Anaxa, you covered your mouth to hide your gasp. They didn't just tie him to the stake—they had his wrists bound, arms spread wide open and tied to two wooden poles next to him, and his ankles were tied with even more rope as he hovered over where the fire would be later. It was as if he was the most dangerous person to ever exist. As if his death would suddenly purge the Black Tide.

He had always looked forward for this day… There was even a smile on his face as he scanned the crowd with his singular eye, the other one gone no thanks to one of his alchemical experiments in the past.

And yet, your heart still ached. He was still one of your teachers. Aside from Aglaea, he taught you everything you knew. You almost devoted yourself to Cerces because of him, and he persuaded you to live a simple life without worry of pursuing greater knowledge that you couldn't fathom.

Why? Why did they have to take him as well?

Keep your chin up. He would tell you that. In fact, you could even hear that in his voice. This is nothing to mourn for. Consider it a sign that I, Anaxagoras, achieved something so great that the council would rather execute me rather than understand my findings.

Someone holding a torch stood in front of him, and you didn't need to squint to know who it was. You recognized that man. A man who always claimed to be neutral, and yet was the one who lit every single pyre before he left Okhema for a few years to do gods know what, and continued to do so even during his return. The man who lit your mother's pyre.

Lygus.

"Citizens of Okhema," he began. "Heed my words—only those with unwavering faith shall accept Kephale's protection. The flame of blasphemy will not be allowed to take root here."

You had expected him to set fire to the hay, like he always did. But when he turned to Professor Anaxa, he threw the torch at him, making his pants catch fire before it could even hit the straw. And as the flame grew bigger and bigger, the crowd became louder and louder.

"Blasphemous!"

"Blasphemous!"

"Unforgivable!"

"Blasphemous!"

As expected, Professor Anaxa paid them, nor the fire, no mind. He didn't just smile, he laughed. It almost reminded you of the times he would teach you basic gardening magic, stop in the middle of his lessons to laugh and write something on the board, before dropping you off back to Aglaea just to disappear for a week or two. It was as if this was just another one of his eureka moments and not his death sentence.

"This body has long been tempered by near ruin," he said, like it was just another lecture. "But reason, desire, passion… will always re-ignite the burning fire within my soul!"

And fitting for his final performance, the fire turned from a bright and blinding orange to a deep blue-green and devoured him whole. High pitched screams erupted from the crowd as everyone backed off, some even running away, from the demised scholar.

As expected of him. He was on death's claw, and yet he still chose to bid farewell with an act people would always remember.

You lowered your head and held your hood. Another witch, gone too soon. You could feel tears gathering in your eyes, but seeing how he laughed… at least he got what he wanted.

You glared at Lygus again before turning your gaze to the others near him. They all wore the same attire; the pitch black robes that belonged to the witch hunters. Most of them wore masks, but you could imagine that they all had their brows furrowed down as they glared at the green fire. One of them removed his mask and wiped his face. His hood was up, but you could see the wisps of white hair peeking out. And now that his mask was off, his bright blue eyes stood out, almost as if they had their own glow to them.

The man froze, his eyes narrowing, before turning to his left. That was when you realized he was looking at you.

Running away from a witch hunter wasn't a good idea. It was grounds for suspicion. If you ran, then you were dead. But at the same time, you couldn't stay here. Aglaea's protection could only reach so far. If someone, especially a witch hunter, accused you in front of a crowd, then the majority would also vote for you to be burned as well. At least if you left, you might have an easier chance to escape. And if he caught you, it would be easier to convince one person rather than an entire city to spare you.

You turned around, leaving the mob and the burning body of your now deceased teacher. You kept your head low and tried to blend in as much as possible. Though if a witch hunter already had his eyes on you, a hooded figure walking away would be suspicious.

Even though you were now out, you still walked. Don't run, just walk. A warning so many witches had told you already. If you run, you’re as good as dead. If you walk, at least it won’t confirm their suspicions. And if you think you can use magic to get away, then you might as well confess you’re a witch. They’ll know if you use magic in front of them.

Your legs were itching to pick up the pace, to just run and maybe make him lose you. It was getting darker, and you were in an alleyway. Surely, you might be able to outrun him? Your cottage was at the outskirts of the village, away from most people. If you continued walking at this pace, then—

"In the name of Kephale, stop."

Dammit.

You did what you were told and turned around, watching as he removed his own hood. Now that he was face to face with you, everything about him was strangely bright. It wasn't just his eyes that stood out from the darkness, but his snowy white hair that reflected the light from a streetlamp behind him. His brows furrowed down as he scanned you from head to toe.

Those eyes… they were such a bright shade of blue. And yet, they glared at you as if you were lower than dirt.

You were half expecting him to spit on you, like how other people did. And when he spoke, you almost took a step back. "Remove your hood," he said.

You gulped, but you still followed. "Is there something wrong, sir?"

"You were at Kephale Plaza earlier, but left as soon as I saw you. Explain yourself."

Oh gods. Your heart was beating so loud that it was the only thing you could hear. That was the reason why he was suspicious of you? Because you left at the sight of your former teacher being burned alive? It was okay, it was fine. You could answer him. No need to panic.

"I- I'm sorry. It's just… Professor Anaxa is- was"—the correction made your stomach twist—"my teacher. It was- it was difficult to watch. Especially since the Council took unnecessary measures and tied him up like he was dangerous monster."

"He was a witch and a heretic. Those precautions were warranted."

You bit your tongue, almost literally. Sure, Professor Anaxa was eccentric, but he was far from a dangerous monster. But you couldn't say that. You weren't allowed to talk back. Not unless you wanted to be next.

“You say he was your teacher,” the man continued, snapping you out of your thoughts. “That means you must have been aware of his witchcraft, even to some extent, aren’t you?"

Cornered again. You couldn't say no; no one was unaware of Professor Anaxa and his beliefs. Saying no would be an obvious lie. "I believe everyone in Okhema knew about it."

"Then why didn't you report it to the Council of Elders?"

"If everyone was aware of Professor of Anaxa being a witch, but no one killed him before now, I- I saw no reason to send my teacher to death."

"So you would stay complacent because everyone else was doing it?"

"No, it's just that- I—"

"Reaver!"

Another voice appeared behind the man. When he turned around, another witch hunter was running towards him. The other man's eyes were wide, before his brows immediately furrowed down. A mask that covered the lower half of his face, but it was easy to tell that he was frowning when he grabbed his companion's arm and pulled him away from you.

"Hey, you got a death wish or something?" he hissed. "Do you have any idea who that kid is? That's Lady Aglaea's for gods' sake!" The man then turned to you and bowed. "I am so sorry for my friend here. He just got relocated to Okhema a few months ago, and he's still unfamiliar with how things work."

"Lady Aglaea's…" The man furrowed his brows as he looked at you. "But they don't even look alike. You're not saying this is—"

The other witch hunter nudged his chest, making him mutter an "ow" under his breath. "Again, so sorry about him. Please forget this ever happened. It wouldn't do good for the Council's reputation if they found out that the Flame Reaver wrongfully accused someone of witchcraft. I'll take him now."

It was as if someone poured cold water all over your body. Flame Reaver?

Even as Flame Reaver and his companion left, you remained rooted in your spot. Your throat was dry, and you doubted drinking an entire lake would be able to fix it. That was him. The Flame Reaver who was said to have an accurate nose for hunting witches.

Before the two of them left, Flame Reaver cast you one last glance and put his mask on again. You took that as your cue to pull your hood up and walked back to your cottage.

You always had difficulty sleeping these days. But right now, you tossed and turned in your bed even more than usual. You would have been shaken if it was any other witch hunter, but you doubted you would have been this restless. But the fact that it was Flame Reaver, the man that even the Council themselves was claiming to be accurate…

That word didn't stop echoing in your head. Accurate. If he truly was like what they claimed him to be, then you would have been dead meat if no one came there to stop him. Aglaea would have taken care of you for nothing.

No. You shook your head. You shouldn't linger on those thoughts. You were alive, and that was all that mattered.

And like what you told Aglaea before, how could they tell if someone was an "accurate" witch hunter, anyway? The ones they wrongfully accused never came back from the dead. In their eyes, wouldn't that make every accusation a spot on accusation? How did they determine if someone fit that claim? Even the Flame Reaver must have made some mistakes before.

He wouldn't find you. You were safe. They were suspicious of you, but you had evaded their eyes for twelve years now. You were safe.

You didn't know when you fell asleep. But you did know that, by the time you opened your eyes, it was morning already. You slept, but your mind still felt like it was floating on water. Unfortunately, you couldn't stay in bed and sleep in. You had work to do, no matter how little it was.

And so, you began your usual routine. Washed yourself, changed into one of the comfortable attires Aglaea crafted for you, then worked in your garden. You were careful with using magic, especially since sometimes, people would come in to your shop. Whether it was to ask why their flowers were dying even though they watered it everyday—

"No," you had said to the child that was crying when their tulips didn't look like it was blooming, "not every flower has to be watered daily. Tulips only need weekly watering. It's alright, you didn't know. Here, let me fix your flowers so it can grow again."

—or if it was a man whose lover was upset at him, and he was hoping to ask for forgiveness by buying some flowers.

"Do you even know what her favorite flowers are?" You scoffed at him. "Of course you don't. Well, you can't go wrong with ros—"

"She doesn't like roses."

Deep breaths. "Well, how about sunflowers, they're also popular."

"She hates yellow."

"Well if you know your partner that well, then, why don't you get flowers you know she'd like?"

"But I don't know what she likes! Aren't you the florist here?! What flowers would say, I'm sorry?"

You almost bashed your head against the wall when the man finally left.

When lunch rolled around, you finished most of your needed work earlier than usual. Perhaps you could pay Aglaea a visit.

Aside from that… Professor Anaxa just died last night. Though the two always bickered and argued, they both praised each other behind their backs. Aglaea was even the one who recommended Professor Anaxa to you. You should at least check on her. See how she was doing after the city lost another bright witch.

You grabbed your usual flower basket, just in case children would want to buy from you, and closed your shop for the day. As expected, once you reached the main streets of Okhema, they were the first ones lined up after you. Some of them offered trinkets, like the little boy who offered his "special pebble" that he found from the ground in exchange for roses for his mother. Some begged their parents to buy a flower crown, to which you would receive a suspicious glance before eventually purchasing one.

Now that you were older, your heart ached at the sight of them. These were children, no older than you when you first lost your parents. Did some of them also lose their parents to the witch hunts or the Black Tide? And most of all, how could the Council see these little ones and not hesitate to execute them if they were witches? Did they hate you all that much that they would be willing to kill children?

The thought stayed in your head, even when you finally reached Aglaea's shop. At least here, you could feel more at ease. A small chat with her always soothed your troubled mind.

"Aglaea, I'm ba—"

Perhaps you had offended the gods somehow. Or perhaps the threads of fate had already finished spinning the tapestry of your future, and decided that your demise was a beautiful color. Because why else would Flame Reaver be inside of Aglaea's shop?

He was looking down at first while Aglaea took his waistline's measurement, but he lifted his head when you entered. Something about him looked different, though you couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't like he changed his appearance. Maybe it wasn't him, but the change of scene. After all, last night, you met him in a dim alleyway during a cloudy night with your only lights being a streetlamp behind him. Now, the sunlight from the shop's window illuminated the side of his face, letting you see the smaller details. Like how his white hair was messy and unkempt, or how he had dark circles under his eyes.

Your stomach twisted, and you felt bile rising up in your throat. Was he also suspicious of Aglaea? No, no he couldn't be. He immediately let you go when the other witch hunter said you were her kid. He must have understood her importance. Or… was he also suspicious of her because of that fact? Did you drag Aglaea to her death as well?

"Ah, darling." Aglaea's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She placed the tape measure on Flame Reaver's shoulders and took his measurements. "You're just in time. This is my last customer of the day, and I finished making lunch a while ago. Come in."

If you had any confidence earlier, it all turned to ashes.

Fortunately, Aglaea was doing a better job at keeping her composure. She just grabbed her pen and wrote the numbers down on her notebook. "Have you met Phainon?" she asked. "He's the Flame Reaver the Council was singing praises about."

"We…" You gulped. "We bumped into each other last night."

Even though she didn't pause, you saw the way her hand faltered. "Oh, I see. I did not know about that."

Now that Aglaea was done with him, Flame Reaver stepped away from her and placed a hand on his nape. "I- I sincerely apologize for that, Lady Aglaea. I didn't know that- I shouldn't have- I'm sorry for being suspicious of your child. My colleagues already warned me about it."

Aglaea simply hummed. "Do be careful next time. You know how seriously the Council takes accusations of witchcraft. Once it happens, it's near impossible to escape their clutches."

"Of- of course. I understand." He nodded. "Umm… is that everything for the clothes, then? When can I go back to, uhh, collect them?"

"Usually, I would say that it would take at least five months before you can expect the first garment to be finished, especially with how long my queue is. But since you're an important customer, I will be prioritizing yours. I estimate that everything will be done before the Month of Weaving can even start."

"Thank you. I'll see you, then."

Before Flame Reaver could walk past you, you took a step away from him. Unfortunately, he still turned his gaze at you. If his eyes were soft or gentle, you couldn't tell. It still felt like he was looking at you the way he glared at you last night. And right now, that was the only thing you could see on his face.

"I… umm…" He cleared his throat. "I think it's unfair that I apologized to Lady Aglaea but not to you. I- I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "It's fine. We can forget that last night ever happened."

Though you doubted you would actually be able to do that. The memory of almost being caught would definitely haunt you for a while.

"I didn't get your name, by the way. I'm—well, Lady Aglaea already told you who I am. But regardless, I'm Phainon."

Phainon. As if you would ever remember that name. You were certain you would call him Flame Reaver till the day you would die.

You told him yours. "And please. There's no need for formalities. You can just call me just that."

Flame Reaver repeated your name a few times before nodding. "Of course. I- umm- I'll go now. Thank you for the new clothes—or maybe, for taking my measurements, Lady Aglaea. And I'm sorry again about last night. I'll see you both."

Even when he finally left, you still didn't know if you had permission to breathe. The air was still thick. You were worried that, if you took a deep breath, you would suddenly find multiple knives piercing your lungs and making you choke on your own blood.

You didn't even notice that you dropped the flower basket until Aglaea picked up and placed it on a table. She placed one hand on your shoulder, while the other caressed your cheek.

"Child…" she whispered in that same motherly tone she always used on you. Whether it was because she was about to scold you for agreeing with Professor Anaxa's antics, or because you accidentally scraped your knee and needed healing.

You didn't fight back. Instead, you just leaned closer and wrapped your arms around her. "He's- he's gone. Professor Anaxa. They- they got him last night.

Aglaea pressed a kiss on your forehead and returned your hug. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine your mother doing the same thing. "I know. I heard. We should be at least thankful that he managed to survive this long, especially since it feels like he was intentionally trying to get himself killed. Though I'm sure he would be mocking us for mourning him. He'll want you to focus on what he deems more important things."

You almost laughed at that. "You mean have all the Dromas in the city gather together for his funeral?"

"I think he would rather you do that than throw all of his Dromas memorabilia into the River of Souls." She shook her head. "But enough of that. How are you feeling?"

Your heart clenched in your chest. "Is he… is he suspicious of you?"

"I'm not sure if he realized it yet, especially since we don't use magic anywhere inside the shop itself."

"Why did he come here?"

"He said he wanted to get his measurements so he can have clothes aside from his uniform. But I think he might have been looking for you."

"Aglaea, he's not—"

"He won't." Her hold on you grew tighter as you met her gaze. Her blue and green eyes always looked like she knew more than she was letting on, like her golden threads didn't just protect the city but also listened to the whispers in the streets. But despite that, she never stopped being soft and gentle.

How could a witch hunter look at her eyes and say she wasn't human?

"He won't get us," she continued. "He will not get you, and he will not get me. I'll have his new clothes finished before the Month of Weaving. That way, he has no reason to visit my shop. And if you want, you can stay with me for that entire month and say that you're just there to help me. We'll be safe, darling. I promise."

If it was possible, you held her even tighter. Even before your parents died, she was always there for you. And when she took you under her wing, she always did everything she could do to keep you safe, even if it sometimes felt like it was beyond what your parents asked for. Not once had you done anything to repay her kindness, but she never stopped being kind to you.

"Thank you, Aglaea," you whispered. "Thank you."

"Of course, darling. Anytime."

III. Lower Your Eyes, My Love and Spite Look Quite Alike

Like every time a witch hunt would happen, the days would pass by normally. It didn't matter if the Council found another person they deemed suspicious and dragged them to be "interrogated"—which you knew consisted of them whipping a confession out of the poor suspect and either leave them ostracized or dead in their home a few days later—or if there was another innocent soul burned at the stake, or if talks about the Black Tide became less of gossip and more of regular market conversations. Oronyx didn't freeze time so you could grieve your parents, why would they freeze time just so you could grieve those with looser connections to you?

At least Flame Reaver didn't approach you after that day in Aglaea's shop. You would occasionally see him in the Marmoreal Market or the main streets, but you didn't give him the opportunity to see you or talk to you. If you had to deliver flowers to a couple celebrating their anniversary, you would act casually so he wouldn't realize you saw him. If you went to Aglaea's shop, you made sure to linger there longer and even help around just until he would leave. If children were asking you to teach them how to make your flower crowns, you gathered as much as you can so he wouldn't think of interrupting children having fun.

You didn't know if he was suspicious, but you wouldn't give him the chance or opportunity to be more convinced.

Were you being paranoid? Probably. And maybe that paranoia would be the cause of your execution instead. But you would rather be paranoid and be over-prepared instead of being caught off guard.

The days turned into weeks. Before you knew it, it was the Month of Freedom, where everyone was free to do whatever they wanted. The seasons were also starting to change—the leaves shifting from bright and healthy greens to deep and dark reds. Every time you stepped out of the house, the first thing that would greet you would always be the satisfying crunch of the leaves beneath your shoes.

Surprisingly, Aglaea had also finished making all of Flame Reaver's garments. You didn't know how she did it, especially since she didn't use any magic to make his clothes. She even had to move one of her looms to a space in her house where she didn't use magic at all just so that not even residue of magic would cling on to the fabric. You were her only assistant, and she never ar asked for your help.

So it was a miracle that, a month later, you were helping Flame Reaver put on his new white coat.

Ever since you met him, the first thing you always noticed from him were his eyes. The murderous glint he showed you that night, the empty look they had that didn't reflect any light, the way they would flick to the side every few seconds whenever you were near each other, as if he was subtly watching you from his peripheral vision. So right now, as you watched him examine the elegant leaf pattern on his sleeves, you naturally found yourself looking at his eyes.

They were usually empty and blank, but you swore you saw them light up for a brief second before dimming again.

"These look… intricate," he said in that usual mumble of his. As if his voice would break if he spoke above a whisper.

"I'm glad you think so," Aglaea replied with a smile. "Here, let me add a finishing touch."

She clasped a blue and gold cape on his left shoulder, the length almost the same as his own coat. Blue on the back, gold on the front, with embroidered lines on the edges that resembled the sun's rays.

"They're… they're beautiful."

You had to agree. Aglaea really outdid herself with this one. Then again, this was Aglaea, after all. When did she not outdo herself? You also couldn't help but think that white suited him better than black. Perhaps because it matched his hair. Or maybe his cape's colors also matched his eyes.

"It's it's a shame that I can't wear this everyday."

You raised a brow. "What's stopping you?

"Well, I- I have to wear my uniform everyday, after all."

Ah, right. He looked so different in that coat that you had almost forgotten who or what he was. On the bright side, at least it was another testament to how amazing of a seamstress Aglaea was. The clothes she made could completely change a person's demeanor.

"I can't thank you enough, Lady Aglaea," Flame Reaver said once he was back to his uniform. Your shoulders tensed at the sight, and you took a small step back to hide behind one of the mannequins. "These outfits… wow. I don't think words can express just how much I love them."

"Of course, of course," Aglaea said with a wave of her hand. For most people, they might see her expression as either her usual gentle smile or perhaps even a blank look. But you noticed the faint way the corner of her lips curled up in a small smirk.

A few minutes after he finally left, you breathed a sigh of relief and sat down. You were never this nervous around a witch hunter before. And yet, every time you saw him, your legs would always shiver and your heart would start pounding so fast it would hurt. You could never tell if it was a sign to run or if it was your body freezing in place. You didn't even understand why you were so scared of him. Was it really because he almost caught you that night? Or because of his stupid reputation. Maybe that was the case. Perhaps even your own doubts weren't able to douse your fear of being caught.

"He's gone," you said, taking another deep breath and long sigh. "I thought he would take longer."

"It did seem like he was planning to stay around for a while," Aglaea replied as she sat across you. "But, it's as you said. He's gone now."

Your brows furrowed down. It was rare to see it on her face, but there were dark circles under her eyes. Even if she was tired or overworked, she always adorned her face with makeup, so it was difficult to tell. Even then, the curls of her golden hair were clearly unbrushed, and she didn't have the golden laurel wreath that always made her more elegant.

It was difficult to imagine her working during the late hours, stitching every pattern, connecting every piece, and even weaving every fabric, all by hand and without using her magic. Her gift was a part of her, and it was who she was. You were sure it pained her to not use her talent, but she still did it if it meant keeping the both of you safe.

"You know, it's still the Month of Freedom," you said. "You still have another month before the Month of Weaving. Why did you finish all of his clothes so soon?"

Aglaea lifted her head and met your gaze, making her tiredness more evident, even with the smile on her face. "I simply want to celebrate the Month of Freedom, like everyone else. I realized that my queue isn't as long as I thought it would be. So, why not use the opportunity to finish his garments, take a break for the rest of the month, and then continue my work once it's the Month of Reaping?"

That excuse felt… flimsy. Weak. You knew there was something else she wasn't saying. But you weren't going to question her about it for now. She was tired. The last thing you wanted was to stress her out with questions even more.

So instead, you nodded. "I understand. Get some rest, then. Do you want me to make dinner instead?"

"That will be lovely, darling. Thank you."

Since she closed the shop early, you had time to make a nice meal. Still, anxiety still ate away your veins as you watched her while you both ate together.

Maybe she was already tired before making those clothes. Perhaps she truly did mean it when she said that she wanted to clear her schedule for the Month of Freedom and have a break before her schedule would start piling up. Besides, her moon was coming soon. Her magic would grow stronger, and the outfits she would make would be more extravagant. Not to mention that she would use it as an opportunity to strengthen the threads holding Okhema's barrier together. She needed to rest and save her energy for her busiest month.

True to its name and the god that it was dedicated to, the Month of Freedom was peaceful, and it quietly transitioned to the Month of Reaping. Usually, this would be the time you would visit Professor Anaxa's home and listen to his rambles for an entire month.

"You don't have to burden yourself with the knowledge that came directly from this god," he would tell you, "but that doesn't mean I won't be teaching you what I deem valuable information to share. Now, grab a pen and paper and make sure to write everything down."

And you would sit with him in his study, writing down only as much as you could before complaining to Aglaea that he was sprouting nonsense again. To which the two would bicker again, and he would be forced to teach you "simpler" and "easier" spells that could actually help you grow stronger.

But he wasn't here anymore. When you opened the door to his house, there was no voice to scold you that you should have knocked. No one to warn you that he hadn't cleaned his house since last week, as he was engrossed in another alchemical experiment. You dragged no one away from the transmutation circle, no one to convince that trading his popliteal vein wasn't worth the risk of transforming into a Dromas at will.

Despite the silence, you did what you usually did whenever you got the chance to visit him. You cleaned up his house, leaving only his study and bedroom the way they were. The multiple Dromas plushies he owned looked lonelier without him. You would throw them into the River of Souls and hope that they would find him in the Nether Realm, but you had a feeling he would haunt you if you dared lay a single finger on all of his valuable items.

"I'll be leaving now, Professor," you whispered. "Thank you for all of your teachings. May you be reborn as a Dromas in your next life."

Despite your heart feeling empty, it was also heavy when you opened the door. But before you could even take a step out, a scream almost left your lips.

Flame Reaver stood in front of you.

Was he following you? His eyes widened as if he was shocked, but he could be pretending just so you wouldn't think he was following you. Dammit, you didn't even notice he was nearby. The peace that the Month of Freedom gave you must have made you lower your walls. You needed to remember that a witch hunter might be on your tail now.

"F- Flame Reaver. Good morning," you said with a nod.

He returned your nod. "Morning. What… what brings you here? This isn't your home, is it?"

You shook your head. "No, sir. It's- it was my teacher's. Professor Anaxa's. I just… I came here to clean his place up. It's been tradition of hours that, during the Month of Reaping, I'll come to his home and help him tidy up the place while he studies what he can. How about you? Why are you here?"

"I have orders from Lygus to confiscate anything I find suspicious here. So if you can, let me inside."

"Confiscate?" Your brows furrowed down. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. What is there to confiscate. Professor Anaxa is long dead. You've no need to investigate his home when you've already killed a witch, don't you think?"

"He might still have some things the Council will find useful. Perhaps a list of any witches he knows, or if he tampered with the dark arts and he left symbols that we should be wary of before it corrupts Okhema. I'm sure you understand. I won't ask a second time. Let me in."

Your hands clenched into fists. If Professor Anaxa was here, he would have pointed his gun at Flame Reaver and tell him to get out. Aside from his Dromas collection, his research was another thing he valued the most when he was still alive. He didn't even share you what was in his notes and scrolls. Rather, he would either make you write what he was saying, or rewrite a new one for you that you would be able to understand.

You didn't want to let him in. But at the same time, if you didn't, then he would drag you to the Marmoreal Temple. Before you knew it, you'd be dead.

This was a lose-lose situation.

With a gulp, you stepped aside and let him in. "I- I know you're here to investigate, but if you can, please leave his Dromas collection in his room. It meant everything to him, and I would rather they remain the way they are."

He raised a brow as he entered Professor Anaxa's home. "It's clean…"

"Like I said, I cleaned it up."

He opened the door to Professor Anaxa's room. If he weren't a witch hunter, you would have chuckled at the way his eyes widened. No doubt he saw the multiple Dromas plushies, Dromas figurines, Dromas blanket, and even Dromas onesie that you had laid on top of his bed.

"You were… you weren't joking when you said that it's filled with Dromas," he said as he stepped inside, and you almost squeaked as you followed him. "Is there a reason with his obsession with Dromas? Does he use them for potions? Maybe trades their body parts for power? Make deals with the devils of the Black Tide and use them as sacrifice?"

This was a trap, you could tell. Everyone in Okhema knew that Professor Anaxa was a witch, but you had mentioned before you were his student. While he did teach other children things that weren't related to witchcraft, this could still be a way for him to get you to slip up that you were aware of what he did that involved magic. It could be a way to get a confession from you.

"Umm… I- I don't know if this is the answer you're looking for, but I don't- I'm not aware of everything Professor Anaxa did behind closed doors. He just taught me basic education. Though I doubt that he actually used Dromas for whatever witchcraft he did. He just seems to like them. A lot."

Flame Reaver almost reached for one of the figurines on the windowsill, but immediately withdrew his hand. He was quiet for a while, just standing near the window with his chin resting on his hand. While he did stare at the window, it didn't seem like he was staring at the Dromas figurines specifically. Rather, he was simply facing their direction.

You didn't know what he was thinking, and you didn't want to know. You just wanted him to get out and not disrespect your teacher anymore. But at the same time, you didn't want him touching anything here. What if he accidentally broke one of Professor Anaxa's utensils? What if he would grab one of his plushies and rip it open just to see if he was hiding anything inside? You needed to think your actions. Impulse would be your death sentence. But how would you even get him to leave?

"I promise there's nothing in this room that would be of use to the Council's investigations." The words left your lips before you could even think twice, making you mentally kick yourself. Your hands clenched into fists as you felt your eyes burn. "I know you're worried that- that he might have left something here that will curse Okhema. But it's not in his room. This is really just his collection that he loved so much."

Your words seemed to snap him out of his trance. Flame Reaver lifted his head and looked at you. His mouth opened, closed, opened, and then closed again, before sighing. "You're right. I can't sense anything here. I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something."

Deep breaths. Your nails were digging in to your palms now. If you would clench your hands even tighter, no doubt it would leave crescent-shaped wounds or even bleed. Perhaps being in your deceased teacher's home was making you irrational. If he were still alive, he would have told you to leave for your own safety and disregard the Dromas collection.

"I- I should go," you whispered as you turned around. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be interfering with official Council business. I- I apologize."

Before he could mutter another word, you left. Like always, you didn't run. You just walked. You kept your head high and hands by your side until you returned to your cottage. Only then did you allow yourself to fall to your knees and for your tears to fall.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! You should have left as soon as you saw him, but you didn't. You thought that you should be protecting Professor Anaxa's belongings instead. If he was still alive and found out that you made such a reckless decision, no doubt he would have been mad.

"Prioritize your safety," he would have said. "Once Aglaea passes, you're the next in line to protect Okhema from the Black Tide. Let my collection burn to ashes if it means that you would still be around."

You wiped your tears from your eyes as you stood up. Would he really say that? Or would he have told you to protect his collection at all cost? You remembered how much he loved that collection. It was ridiculous, but you always noticed how he seemed softer whenever he held even the smallest plushie he owned. It was valuable to him, and you didn't want anyone in the Council getting their dirty hands on it just so they could hurt more of your people.

Get a grip. Flame Reaver was, no doubt, convinced now. You should have left when he arrived, but you didn't. So now, you would have to clean up your own mess and make sure that he wouldn't be able to catch you. Because if you died too soon, then that would truly anger Professor Anaxa, and he would no doubt chase you off with his gun in the Nether Realm.

For the next week, you had been starting your morning in one of two ways—opening your eyes and realizing that you didn't get proper sleep, or get up from bed without any sleep at all. You rarely had energy to make breakfast, too. So, not only were you constantly sleep deprived, you didn't even eat unless Aglaea reminded you to.

You dragged yourself out of bed and did your first routine. Wash, get dressed, open the shop. Maybe today, you should get lunch at the Marmoreal Diner later. You still had work to do, so unfortunately breakfast was out of the picture. Even if your arms could barely carry the watering can, you still picked it up and watered the flowers that needed watering. Fortunately, it wasn't a lot. It was fall now, and most of your flowers would be wilting in the winter. But taking care of them before they depart wouldn't hurt.

You were in the middle of watering a patch of golden flowers when the bell rang. Which was a little odd. While you did have customers during morning, it wasn't even the usual breakfast time yet. Maybe you forgot a delivery or a reservation? With how little sleep you had lately, it wouldn't be surprising.

"In a minute!"

You put down your watering can and stood up, removing any dirt that clung to your clothes. If it was Aglaea, the last thing she needed to see was how sleep deprived you were. If it was a customer, you needed to smile and let them know they weren't walking into the devil's den.

"Good morning! Is there any way I can help you today?"

Your smile almost faded immediately when you saw who it was in front of you. Flame Reaver.

The whispers and gossip returned to your mind. About how he had an accurate nose for finding witches. About how, once he found his target, he wouldn't let them go until he found damning evidence of their witchcraft. You remembered that night again, when he found you in the alleyway, and the day he found you in Professor Anaxa's home with you acting extremely suspicious.

Great. You had done it. Your recklessness yesterday had sealed your fate. You might as well grab a shovel in your shed and dig a ditch. At least that way, you wouldn't burn to death. If you hadn't been so reckless that day, then maybe he wouldn't be here.

His uniform didn't help, either. A black garb, with a golden crescent moon on his chest, and a torn cape. If someone told you that this was what Thanatos looked like, you would have believed them.

Calm down. He wasn't here to drag you to the stake yet. That was the worst case scenario. Which was still possible, but you didn't want to dwell on that thought for now.

"Morning," he said with a wave and a small smile. As if he didn't look like an executioner. "Umm… your flower shop looks nice. You… you grew here everything yourself?"

"I… I did." You nodded. "Morning. Is there any way I can help you?"

"Umm, well. I- I just wanted to apologize again for that day in your teacher's house. I continued investigating after I left, but I didn't touch any of his Dromas collection like you asked. I'm- I'm sorry. I must have bothered you that day."

You allowed yourself to sigh in relief. For now. You didn't know if he was going to bring up the fact that you were a witch, but you would let yourself relax before the worst would come. "It's alright," you said. "Honestly, it was a ridiculous thing to be mad about now that I'm looking back on it. I shouldn't have stepped in when you were working."

"No." He shook his head. "I also would have been on edge if someone I didn't know started touching my deceased loved ones' important belongings."

At least he was aware of that.

"Words aren't probably enough to express how sorry I am," he continued. "I originally thought of buying you flowers as an apology, but then I remembered that you were the florist. So maybe… maybe I can buy flowers from you instead?"

It was an innocent request, but you knew it was anything but. It was almost the same reason why Aglaea rushed making all of his new clothes without using magic. Some witch hunters were more sensitive at sensing magic more than others. And if he was both excellent and trained for that, then even the smallest hint of magic could be a death sentence.

Unfortunately, you weren't in a situation where you could reject him. Aside from the fact that you had been acting nothing but suspicious, you had no valid reason to not give him any flowers. If you did, he would ask you if your flowers were grown with magic, and then drag you to your death. And either Aglaea would be forced to cut ties with you to protect yourself, or they would drag her along.

It was a bright and sunny day outside, and yet it felt like the abyss was clawing you, dragging you, telling you that the Council was right and that there was a special place in the Nether Realm specifically for witches like you.

You raised a brow. "You want to buy flowers?"

He nodded. "I'm not really an expert on them, so I don't know how to properly care for them. Maybe… maybe something low maintenance? I'll definitely remember to water them and give them sunlight. The window in my house has a lot of light, actually. I just don't know if I can take of flowers where I need to cut the stems frequently, or if I have to change pots every season."

You nodded and turned around, repeating it was fine in your head again. You didn't use magic all the time to take care of your garden. You had taken care of flowers without any magic at all before. The question was, had you taken care of a flower that fit his criteria?

After scanning your display, you found one. Golden flowers, just like the one you were taking care of earlier.

"Here." You picked the pot of golden flowers up and passed it to him. "These are chrysanthemums, and they're on the low maintenance side. Place them on a spot with enough sunlight, and you only need to water them whenever their soil feels dry. Of course, if there's anything wrong with your flowers, like you're not sure why the leaves are turning yellow or why they're dying even after you water them according to schedule, you can always ask me questions."

Even though the last thing you wanted was more interactions with a witch hunter.

After paying, he pulled the pot closer to him and smelled the flowers. Just like that time in Aglaea's shop, his eyes lit up, even for a moment. "They smell very sweet." His usually straight lips curled into a faint smile. As if buying golden flowers was the highlight of his day that had just started. "Thank you. I- I'll take care of them. I like to think I have a green thumb."

Somehow, you doubted a man who could kill people with no remorse would be talented enough to keep a simple pot of flowers alive.

You were about to bid him farewell when your stomach growled. Right. You hadn't eaten yet. Maybe since yesterday lunch.

"You- you hungry?" he asked, reminding you that he was still there. "I know this is too forward, but would you like to join me for breakfast in the Marmoreal Diner? Consider it my treat. And as an apology for… everything."

You felt a brow twitch. He wasn't even hiding the fact that he was keeping an eye on you now, was he?

"It's fine, I can cook. Besides, didn't you already buy the flowers as an apology?"

"Well, how about an extended apology? Witchcraft accusations are heavy and shouldn't be taken lightly. Do you really consider me buying flowers as water under the bridge? And besides." You didn't think it was possible, but his smile widened. It felt a little out of place, especially since you only saw him with a grim expression on his face all the time. "Can you really say no to free food?"

Yes, yes you could. This was a trap. You were an idiot for being reckless in Professor Anaxa's house that day, but you weren't foolish enough to say yes. At least this time, you had a reason to reject him.

"The offer sounds nice, but the answer is still no. I hope you understand."

If he was disappointed, it was a little difficult to tell. His smile became smaller, almost fading, but that was his usual expression. "Don't worry, I- I understand. Thank you for the flowers again. I'm sure they'll be a lovely addition to my home."

With a final wave, he finally left your shop. Even when he was gone, you still couldn't forget the smile he showed you. A big and wide grin, almost as if the world was alright. As if he didn't have the blood of multiple witches on his hands. And most of all, you still couldn't forget the night you two first met.

It didn't matter how many smiles he showed you or how many flowers he bought. At the end of the day, he still wanted you dead.

Your heart was still restless in your chest, even when you finished working in your garden to cook yourself lunch. How long was he going to stay in Okhema? Hopefully, not forever. Whether it was because other witches had found a way to cleanse the Black Tide, or because he would be assigned to a different city, it didn't matter. You missed being able to breathe without worrying you'd be dead if you exhaled wrong.

You wondered if Oronyx, ever the childish god as the stories always said, was playing with you and making time slower to spite you specifically. Everything felt so agonizingly slow, and the passing days felt more like passing years. The Month of Weaving couldn't come any sooner. It would be the last month of fall and Aglaea's busiest season. Your shop wouldn't be open, and you would be spending your days helping her instead. You would be under her protection, and no witch hunter or member of the Council of Elders would be insane enough to drag you out of her shop.

Maybe you could also sleep in her house again. You were having difficulty sleeping these days, and you never had the energy to make breakfast for yourself. In fact, you didn't open the shop today. You could feel your body growing weaker and weaker by the minute, and no amount of magic could sustain you skipping your meals.

Once you were sure your door was locked, you stretched your arms and sighed. It was quiet today, save for the fallen leaves dancing in the air as the wind blew them away. It was a perfect weather for a nap. If you didn't feel like passing from hunger in the next three seconds, you would have stayed in bed and just slept.

Though just before you could leave your garden, a chill traveled down your spine. Something felt… off. And it wasn't just your paranoia or a gut feeling. Something in the air was wrong. You couldn't pinpoint what the exact feeling was, but it was as if there was corrupted magic nearby. Which didn't make sense. Aglaea's threads held a tight grip on the city. Corrupted magic like the Black Tide shouldn't be able to get in.

Unless… unless it did? She had been protecting Okhema all by herself for almost twenty years now, maybe even more. And not once did she stop to take a break, even to the point where the spell was still working in her sleep. It wouldn't be unsurprising if a Black Tide creature managed to enter Okhema. You couldn't fault her for that.

You didn't have a lot of energy right now. Which, unfortunately, meant you couldn't deal with the problem. Perhaps after lunch, you could pay Aglaea a visit and tell her about it. She might also be able to tell you what to do. Acting rashly might hurt you.

You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself and stepped out of your home. As soon as you did, the chill you felt grew worse. You stopped in your tracks and close your eyes, then took a deep breath. Something was coming towards you. Something you had felt before. A Black Tide creature was coming your way. Something that couldn't enter Okhema no matter what. Which meant…

Aglaea's threads… you couldn't feel them. Even when you pinched the air, you couldn't find even the thinnest thread. Did the barrier shrink? Was she alright? What if she passed out in her home from fatigue and didn't realize it made the spell stop?

Dammit. You couldn't just leave this here. If this entered Okhema, then no doubt the witch hunts would just grow more intense. You had to deal with this before it grew worse. Your magic was weak right now, but it would be enough to handle a Black Tide creature.

It didn't seem like it was far from your cottage. Rather, it was the forest near your home, which meant it hadn't entered the city yet, thankfully. While you didn't want any of them corrupting your garden, you would rather they attack your home first than hurt the normal people of Okhema. At least you could handle yourself.

The forest grew darker the deeper you went, with the sunlight peeking through the red and orange leaves providing you light. After a while of walking, you finally reached the place where the corruption felt the strongest. At that moment, it felt like the gods had decided to punish you by letting Zagreus let lose and have you be a victim of their pranks. Because kneeling in front of you had to be none other than Flame Reaver himself.

It didn't look like he noticed you yet. Instead, he was focused on the black and red marks on the dirt—a telltale sign that a Black Tide creature was here not too long ago. He took out something from his pocket, but you couldn't tell what it was. Only that it looked like a card of some sorts. You can definitely feel corruption from the mark, but it wasn't what you felt. If it was just a scratch on the dirt, then it wouldn't have been this strong.

Maybe you should just leave him. The last time you meddled in his business, you almost got caught. And he was a witch hunter. It would do you better if he died. It meant you had one less thing to worry about. Nothing would change about your life, but at least the worst one was gone, right?

You were about to turn around when you faced him again. He wasn't even looking at the mark anymore, just at the card he was holding earlier. Your eyes moved to the right—

"Flame Reaver, get down!"

Before he could stand up, you got out of the bushes and ran towards him, pushing him out of the way. Your vision blurred, and your arms burned as it scraped the ground beneath you. But at least you were hurt because you pushed him away rather than because the gryphon managed to scratch your skin.

You tried to open your eyes, but your head was spinning. The gryphon roared again, but it was hard to tell what was going on. Your eyes were heavy, your body was heavy. It was fall, but everything was both too bright and too hot. Even though you were on the ground, you could feel sweat falling down your forehead. In the middle of the Month of Reaping, too.

"Hey, hey. Can you hear me? Can you get up?"

When you opened your eyes, you had half expected to see you still on top of Flame Reaver when you had pushed him out of the way. But instead, he was above you, blue eyes wide as he held you in his arms. When you turned your eyes to the side, you could see his sword planted on the ground, with the gryphon fading away into squares before disappearing.

He called your name again, free hand lightly tapping your cheek. "It's okay, it's okay. I got you. Can you get up?"

Despite your shaking legs, you nodded and forced yourself to stand up. Before you could trip again, he grabbed your arms once more. "Easy, easy. Sit down for a minute. Here." He grabbed the flask of water from his waist. "Drink up. You're probably really thirsty right now."

"Th- Thank you." Gods, even your voice was dry.

You gathered any remaining strength you had to open the flask and slowly drank the water. It was cold, and it stirred your mind awake somewhat. Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could see Flame Reaver's brows furrowing down as he sat next to you.

"I- thank you," he whispered. "I was too lost in thought that I didn't even notice the gryphon. I'm sure I would have been a goner if you hadn't been there."

You shook your head and passed the flask back to him. "Don't mention it."

"No, I- I'm really grateful. I don't know what you were doing here, but I don't think I would have gotten out safe if you didn't push me away. Though I am a little worried. The gryphon didn't touch you, but you still passed out after you pushed me away. Do you have a fever, or…"

He raised his hand. For a brief moment, you saw it again. The way his eyes looked like he didn't see you as anything human. Before he could touch you, you scooted backwards, arm ready to swat his away just in case.

He paused, but immediately lowered his hand. "Sorry, I just thought I should check you in case you had a fever or something. Or if the gryphon managed to hurt you and… it didn't get you, right?"

"I'm fine," you replied, albeit too quickly for your liking. "I'm fine. I'm alright. It's just fatigue and hunger. I haven't been eating or sleeping properly lately."

"I do remember that you were already working when I came to your shop for the first time, even if it sounded like you hadn't eaten yet."

You already knew where this was going.

"Do you want to join me for lunch?" he asked, and you weren't surprised. "I'd treat you as payment for saving my life, but you can pay your own if you want. It's just that, well, you're obviously hungry. I don't think it would be right if you skipped another meal."

It truly seemed like your paranoia would be your downfall. If you had just brushed everything aside, you wouldn't have stayed up the entire night worrying if you would find yourself at the stake, and you wouldn't have passed out near him. There was also the possibility that he knew you would act like this. Knew that, if he scared you enough, you would eventually find yourself in this type of situation. And he would act like a caring and concerned hero, only to lure you into his trap.

You wanted to decline again. But both your stomach and head were starting to ache in a way that you could no longer ignore.

"I don't think I have a choice on that matter," you said with a sigh. "Besides, I was already on my way to the Marmoreal Diner. Having company shouldn't be too bad."

If the company was anyone but a witch hunter, then sure. You would have believed that thought, even if it was just a little.

He smiled, and his eyes lit up for a moment. Their blue hue didn't suit the warm autumn leaves behind him. "Do you want to hold on to me? I don't want you accidentally falling again."

"I'm fine. I can walk."

If he had any protests, he didn't say them. Instead, he just nodded. "At the very least, let's take it slow. You shouldn't overexert yourself."

He helped you up to your feet and returned to Okhema. By the time you reached your cottage again, you could feel the faint hum of Aglaea's threads once more. But you held your sigh of relief. Flame Reaver stiffened a little. He must have sensed the sudden presence of magic as well. Fortunately, with how spread out it was in the city, it would be difficult to pin it to Aglaea herself. She was safe right now.

You didn't notice that you had arrived at Marmoreal Diner until the smell of food reached your nose. And as if to remind you of your unfortunate predicament, your stomach growled. When was the last time you ate? You knew you skipped dinner last night, but did you even eat at all yesterday? Or the day before that?

It was a futile thing to hope for, especially since it always seemed like she knew what was going on in the city, but you hoped Aglaea didn't wouldn't find out that you had collapsed somewhere in the forest and a Black Tide creature almost got to you. You remembered the exhaustion in her eyes. Adding to the fact that the barrier faltered for a moment earlier, she must be extremely tired and stressed with protecting Okhema. The last thing she needed was to add you to her list of worries.

Someone took your order, and it was only a few minutes before they arrived with it. The food in the Marmoreal Diner was always appetizing. Whether it was something like your favorite mutton chops, or the grilled fish that Flame Reaver ordered for himself, you always found yourself craving for their food. You remembered eating here with Aglaea when you were younger, and she had drag you out after having eating because you still wanted to eat despite the fact that you were full.

But right now, despite passing out from hunger and fatigue, you didn't know if you could eat.

Still, you took a bite out of the meat. The familiar sweet and savory flavor hit your tongue, and your stomach growled even louder. If you were feeling a little better, perhaps you would have eaten with delight. But you couldn't even tell if you were shaking from hunger or anxiety, so it was difficult to enjoy your meal.

"Hey."

It was as if he read your thoughts. When you lifted your head, Flame Reaver was looking at you, brows furrowed down in concern, before his lips slowly curled into a small smile. You interacted with him only twice or thrice. And when you did see him, his expression was always serious or pensive. But somehow, that smile on his face seemed more like his natural expression.

"Listen, I know we started off on the wrong foot, but I was hoping if you could be less tense around me?"

You blinked. "Less tense?"

"I notice it, you know. Whenever you're near me, you always look so nervous. I know that witch hunters don't have the most pleasant reputation, and I'm aware that there have been cases where people have been wrongfully accused—not to mention I must have been very disrespectful in your own teacher's home that day—but I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. Not with me, at least."

Oh. So you were more obvious than you thought. If he noticed your entire demeanor changing around him, then what else did he notice?

You didn't intend to, but a scoff left your lips. "Let me guess… I have nothing to fear if I have nothing to hide? I've heard the Council of Elders say that so many times already."

"Would you believe me if I say that I don't believe that?"

"I apologize, but no."

"Well, I truly don't." He shook his head. "Right now, everyone has every reason to feel afraid. The Black Tide getting worse, the rising number of witches being discovered, the Council of Elders being stricter with their regulations—even a normal person would be afraid from just the tensions alone. I don't blame you for being afraid, which is why I'm letting you know that you've nothing to fear from me. You can trust me."

If he wasn't a witch hunter, you would have almost believed his words. Aside from Aglaea and Professor Anaxa, you didn't have anyone to confide in. They had told you that, even if someone was a witch, you shouldn't feel to comfortable around them because if the Council were to discover them, then they might tell the truth if they were tortured long enough. And even if you just wanted to befriend the average citizen, people wouldn't look at you without a suspicious glance. You didn't have a lot of people to trust in.

While you wouldn't have been able to tell him the truth, perhaps he might have been a breath of fresh air. If he wasn't a witch hunter, perhaps that smile of his could have convinced you that maybe, maybe this could be the first person that would treat you like a human. But he wasn't that person. He was a witch hunter, and you were a witch. There was no circumstance where you could feel comfortable around him.

It was a curious thing, however. If he had those beliefs, then why did he become a witch hunter? He was just contributing to that very fear he was talking about, but he was still in this job. His words were obviously meant to soothe you, but they did the complete opposite. Let's not forget the fact that he's supposedly the best one the Council has. Nothing about him was comforting.

But if he was truly like that, then why was he here, spending lunch with you, instead of dragging you to the Marmoreal Temple?

Your head was hurting. Maybe you shouldn't think too much on it. Regardless of what he was like as a person, he saw you as lesser than human when he thought you were a witch. You couldn't find yourself trusting a person who saw you like that.

After lunch, your stomach felt full. A sigh of relief left your lips as you leaned back on the chair. Food definitely eased your mind a bit, and you could slowly feel your energy and magic returning. Who would have known that the answer to hunger was food? What was next, the answer to fatigue was sleep?

"I feel better now," you said. "Thank you for accompanying me to lunch, Flame Reaver."

"No problem. And please, like I said before, just Phainon is alright. It's very unfair that I'm calling you without any formalities, but you're referring to me with my title."

As if. But his answer was still interesting. "I thought witch hunters would have wanted the prestige that came along with the job."

"Not all of us." And there it was again. A laugh, followed by a small smile. "I'm glad the meal helped you feel better. And what I said before, too. I meant it. I don't want you to feel like you're walking on eggshells around me. I'm not here to hurt you, after all."

It was either a lie, or naiveté. You couldn't tell which one was worse.

"If you say so. See you around, Phainon."

It felt strange saying his name. Your tongue burned a little, as if it was punishing you somehow. Your mother had told you before that names had power, even if one wasn't a witch. Perhaps the power of his name was to punish witches who would say it out loud. But you didn't linger on that thought for long. You took your leave as soon as you were out of the diner. You didn't know where he was going nor did you care. You weren't going to let his kindness—a witch hunter's kindness—deceive you.

When you reached it, Aglaea's shop and house still provided you with the same comfort it always did. You felt bad intruding her when she was resting and eating a platter of meat, crackers, and cheese. But still, you had to tell her about the fact that the barrier faltered earlier. She had to know, or else neither of you would be able to fix it before it got worse.

After you recounted the events of today, she sighed and looked down. "I see. That was… negligence on my part. I didn't even realize that it had happened. Has the barrier returned to normal?"

You nodded. "When I returned with Flame Reaver, I noticed it was up again. I think he did, too."

"I'm not too worried about him in that regard. And I think you need to lessen your fears about him, too. It's not healthy for you."

You sighed as you grabbed some crackers and cheese. "Easy for you to say. I feel like I'm going insane every time we bump into each other. He must really just be naive to let me get away if this isn't his way of waiting for me to take the bait."

"This is a development. Weren't you the one who told me that he's not as good as a witch hunter as the Council claims to be?"

"I did, but that was before I saw him." You placed your cup of ambrosia down and pushed your knees to your chest. "You should have seen him that night. I've been so restless these days because I don't know if I've been so reckless with my decisions that I'm worried he'll figure me out sooner or later. I- I know I'm being paranoid, but…"

"While it's good to be wary, especially of witch hunters, you'll only exhaust yourself by worrying. Eventually, that will be the thing that gives you away." She scooted closer to you and held your hand. "I'm not saying to completely trust him, but it also wouldn't do you good if you think he's hiding in every shadow in the corner. Especially if it's come to a point where even he has noticed it."

You sighed again. "You're stating the obvious again…"

"You say it's obvious, and yet you don't seem to notice that."

"Oh, be quiet." Despite your words, you still found yourself laughing. Her warning was obvious, and you had repeated it to yourself several times already, but it still helped. Perhaps because it was coming from her.

At least you still had a place where you didn't feel alone. At least you still had Aglaea.

Taglist: @dear-mydeimos @rukiatheloml @maivqs @keigoloveminty @teyvat-inks @nshasy @byeohzu @maxiine @leviniar @paleocarcharias @sloppygoblin420 @arluene7688 @1horsewithnoname @kayla-drawz @zlahn @nineworks @hipsdofangirl @liiilylooolyy @argentits @3lectraheart @yetchann @asoundofdrop @ourserendipity @spacechipairstrip @lurulu-ru

[nineworks]

Sorry if this is prying but are you ok after the car crash? Did you find out who hit you?

thank you for checking in love 😭 im doing alright, and yeah it wasn’t an intentional hit!! i should get back to my writings here soon 💞

[nineworks]

hi to everyone who was sending requests in!! i should be able to post in 2-3 days ish all the requests once i get home from the hospital!! a day after i posted that first ask, i may have been hit with a car, but i will be back soon!!

[nineworks]

How I look after reading angst as if it was me personally in that situation

[nineworks]

RULES - before requesting or following, please read

these are mainly guidelines so people understand my boundaries and the content that will be on this blog!! i also do understand that i will not be able to control how people choose to interact!! higher rules will be in blue.

i am 19 years old, but this does not mean i will be writing any 18+ content which includes smut. this is not just because i am not willing to write, but also because i would not want any minors to see.

this is a purely anonymous blog, i will not be putting any of my other socials on here in order to keep my own identity safe.

some of my original works (possibly asks) may include sensitive topics, or suggestive content (no smut)

any comments or asks that contain discrimination such as racism, sexism, abelism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. will not be answered or will be deleted

any asks that contain ANY themes of the following will not be answered; noncon, incest, and will be updated as i keep posting.

on the other hand, please do feel free to interact or chat with me!! if i do build a following, i would love to interact with you all and build connections!!

i also will be working on bigger original stories and doing smaller asks in between

feel free to leave constructive criticism on my works!

please note that i do have school and work, so my posts may not always be the most consistent!!

this is all (for now) and i hope we all can have a nice time reading, and writing<3

[nineworks]

omg hiiii welcome to the fanfic world 🫶🏻

can i request victor grantz with a fem!reader who panics during a match?

Character: Victor Grantz

Type: Headcanons

WC: 367

Notes: ahhh of course!! never wrote anything for victor before.. but this gives me something to write before i work on my totally not 20k word phainon fic.. and my apologies if it is slightly short!!

Knowing Victor, with his extreme social awkwardness it would be hard to comfort people even if he really does care

Poor man would see your state and probably not know what to do for the most part LOL

I feel like he would probably make an attempt to silently comfort you, he understands that being in a match can be scary, but you gotta work together!! 

If he ever catches you frozen at a cipher or even just standing idly and he wasn't able to be next to you, he would send wick out with even something simple like a speed boost or a increase in decoding speed

It helps him let you know that he’s cheering you on and is there for you

If you're being chased? You can absolutely count on him to come in and have wick bite slow the hunter down, helping you to prolong the kite, and hopefully ease your nerves a bit

Again, he knows just how terrifying it can be to be chased or on a time crunch, it's not easy but he wants both of you to escape!

Alive hopefully

Even if it's difficult for him to communicate and properly express how he feels, he genuinely wants you to know hes there with you and for you

Even Wick might be there with you if there's a promise of pets

After the match is over, if you had any bad injuries or were still in a panicked state, he would immediately bring you to Emily, staying with you to ensure your safety.

Being the genuine soul he is, he would absolutely 100% help you back to your room, him and Wick (yes both) helping to get anything you might need

Water? Already here

Food? What kind?

Need an extra pillow? Got one

He makes up for the lack of talking by doing acts of service and assisting you in every possible way

And if you're lucky.. Maybe you can also convince him to stay with you while you sleep! and you get a free wick next to you

Overall, he might not know exactly what to do, but small things eventually add up to make your day much better!!

[nineworks]

!¡ "quandary go round and around" ¡!

! - m.list

! - rules

things i WILL write for

honkai: star rail

identity V

limbus company

mystic messenger

mha

etc.. if you ask <3

hello! on here i go by nine, and this is my writing corner!

i go by she/they!<3

my requests will always be open, and they will only close when i am swamped with requests. (if that ever happens!!)

((do make note, i specialize more in xreader works!!))

this blog is still a wip, but i have been lurking for years!!

i look forward to writing for you all!!