Chapter Text
“But there are people out there who won’t make you feel worthless. You just have to find them.”
For a brief second Hunter believed the youngest Blight. Then he’d caught sight of the key hanging around her neck, and the Golden Guard took over.
Now he stood in the snow looking at the skull of the Titan he and his uncle were trying so hard to please. After a moment he pulled out the now cracked portal key, a drop of Titan blood spilling out as he gazed at it tiredly.
It’s broken, but it’s better than any artificial key he’s been trying to create. He’ll be pleased.
The underlying doubt nagging at him disappeared when a splash of red landed on his fist with a trill. His attention shifted to the palisman with a small upturn of his lips.
“Oh, hey.” He greeted. Appreciation swelled in his chest as he looked at the little cardinal. It had saved him from being struck by the weird dog-rat’s— they called it King for some reason— magic. To his surprise it had also helped him hold his own against the youngest Blight, meaning his success was directly linked to the palisman’s assistance. “You stuck with me the whole time, huh, bird.”
It tweeted in response, and to Hunter’s shock he could almost make out words.
“Not bird,” it seemed to say. “Red.”
His eyes widened before a genuine smile broke out across his face. “I think I understood that. Is that your name? Can you say it again?”
“It’s Red.”
A laugh bubbled out of him, the fact he was speaking to a bird formed from wild magic of all things almost funny. “Weird. Can you say other things?”
“Yep. Your name is Hunter, and your voice is not annoying.”
The teenager blushed at the comment. “Thanks for that, Red. It’s really not a big deal though. Kiki’s just jealous of me because I’m the emperor’s right hand man, and I don’t care what the Owl Lady thinks. She was probably just messing with me anyway.”
“Still,” it chirped pointedly, “I thought you should know. And you can call me something else other than Red. That was the name my past witch gave me.”
“Past witch? Did something happen to them?”
The palisman was silent for a moment before it chirped sadly. “You could say that, yes. But it’s okay; you’re my witch now! This calls for a new name.”
“Oh. You want me to name you.” The bird nodded. “Huh. I’m not really good with names though. I probably would have named you something obvious like Red if you hadn’t already been named that. I’m not really someone you’d call creative.”
“You can do it. I believe in you.”
If his cheeks reddened it was because of the cold.
He thought hard as he trudged through the snow, the palisman having flown to rest on his shoulder as he walked. After over a minute of deliberation he opened his mouth.
“What about what the human called you before? Li’l Rascal? Or maybe just Rascal for short?”
“That sounds nice,” it agreed with a short chirp.
“Rascal it is then.”
They spoke for a long time, the cold and exhaustion weighing Hunter down not stopping him from unconsciously slowing his pace so he’d have more time to chat with his palisman. He told it of his life: how he’d been taken in by his uncle at a young age, who later showed Hunter he was a natural when it came to wielding artificial magic. He was a prodigy at hand-to-hand combat as well. His studies were even more impressive. Despite being born without being able to perform magic on his own he soaked up magic theory like a sponge and in only a year’s time had enough experience to take down almost all other members of the emperor’s coven.
“I could probably take Kikimora too,” he stated cockily as if trying to impress Rascal further. “During our last fight we were both too out of it to perform our best, but if we were in an actual witches’ duel, somewhere she couldn’t cheat, then I could take her. Uncle trained me himself, you know. Not all the time. But sometimes.”
“Impressive,” it tweeted back. “Your uncle. You care for him a lot.”
“Of course I do! He rescued me when I had nowhere else to go. Wild magic killed our family, remember?”
“You did say that. Do you know how? Do you remember what happened that day?”
His ears burned, ashamed. “No. I don’t recall anything before I woke up in my uncle’s castle. But he wouldn’t lie to me, if that’s what you’re implying. He’s hurting because of wild magic. That’s why I kept pushing you away. I thought you’d get me killed or something.”
“I would never harm you, Hunter. I’m your palisman, and you’re my witch. I chose you. Whatever happened to your family could have been caused by wild magic, but like any weapon that magic could have been wielded by someone who meant to cause harm. Wild magic doesn’t naturally hurt creatures. It heals them, because magic is life.”
He gulped. He’d always thought as much, but this was the confirmation he’d needed. Countless books like From Bones to Earth: A Study of Wild Magic reiterated the fact wild magic was just one of the many forms of magic. His palisman staff and the artificial one his uncle had gifted him were more or less the same, though with Rascal being born of wild magic it meant he could potentially grow stronger than he could with his usual staff. He’d felt it during the fight not too long ago. Sure it had taken him a hot second to get used to— he’d never wielded a palisman staff before— but the moment he’d broken free from the Blight’s abomination magic he’d felt it.
Power. Wild magic had been coursing under his fingertips, and unlike the cold metallic feel of his artificial staff this time it had been warm. Alive. Welcoming. Ready to answer his will and bend to his desires.
He’d felt like a real witch. He’d felt happy, and he could tell Rascal was too.
“Thank you, Rascal. I appreciate it. Really.”
“I know you do. I can sense them, your emotions. Just like how you could sense when you gripped me too hard the day we met.”
His jaw dropped, startled and impressed at the same time.
“Whoa. Really? That’s incredible.”
“It’s because of our bond.”
Bond, Hunter thought in awe. Never in a million years would he thought his closest friend would come in the form of a little red cardinal carved for a magical tree. Yet here he was, closer to a bird than he was nearly anyone else in the world. Only his uncle held a bigger space in his heart.
He chose not to say anything. They continued walking until the sun began to rise, the harsh gray outline of Emperor Belos’ Castle standing out against the colorful backdrop of the sky.
“This is it,” he told Rascal, who immediately turned into the inanimate, toy-like version of itself it could assume. He patted at the pocket containing the key with a tired sigh. “Hopefully this will show him I’m not replaceable.”