ⓜⒶŁＬⓔΔᗷˡ𝔼 M𝕖𝐭ⓐ𝕃ş (Golden Guard x reader)

Bad Moon Rising (pt.7)

  I swung the first sword at the target, breathing heavily. Sweat soaked my back and hands- it was getting harder to hold onto the sabers as they grew slippery. I hit the next target, gasping for more air...

I was not a combat witch.

To be entirely fair to myself, I was physically fit. I just tired out too quickly to be very useful without my spells. And of course, combat was easy when I had my magic, but....well...it was immature, but Hunter was a great fighter without any magic, and...I kind of envied that.

I missed the next target, much to my chagrin, but hit the next one.

Speaking of Hunter...

I sighed, slicing the punching bag open. Feathers exploded out of it, making a mess that I wasn't looking forward to cleaning.

Hunter. In my mind, the Golden Guard and Hunter still felt like different people. Goldie was my coworker-turned-friend, and Hunter was my crush. Kind of.

So what was he now?

I hissed in frustration, stabbing the half-destroyed punching bag.

This isn't fair. The one time I get a crush on someone, and they're secretly my work partner.

I smacked the falling-apart leather with the flat of my sword.

"Woah, what did that punching bag ever do to you?"

I looked up to see a scout standing at the training room door.

"It knew too much." I answered as coolly as I could muster, sliding the training swords into their sheaths.

"Jeez (Y/N), what did you do?" Laughed the scout. I recognized their voice- Steve.

"I'd tell ya, but then I'd have to kill you." I grinned, tossing my cloak back onto my shoulders. "See you around, Steve."

"See ya!" He waved as I exited the room.

I entered the armory to return the training swords, sighing as I put them up. I still can't fight well enough yet. This sucks. Practicing sucks.

That's not true: practicing stuff I'm good at is fun, but practicing this....sucks.

I let my eyes wander to the side of the armory that held the staffs. I used to use one, back before I was in the coven- a tall gold staff, with a black and gold bat perched on the top. I had wrapped the middle bit with brown dragon leather in hopes of gripping it easier...It had, of course, been confiscated upon joining the coven.

But after last week's palismen hunt, my old palisman had been on my mind...I had found him in the woods instead of carving him on my own, and I still wondered who his witch was before me.

Not that it mattered. Belos had probably absorbed my bat's soul or something- that was likely why he confiscated palismen. To cure his stupid curse.

I trudged back up to my room, shoulders slumped. I wished I could just...leave this place...leave all my troubles behind...I wished I could get my palisman back, and fly away from it all. Away from Belos, away from Hunter, away from the atrocities I had committed under the guise of helping witch-kind...

I shoved the door open, collapsing onto my bed. Maybe I wasn't cut out to be a spy...

Maybe, argued a voice in my head, maybe I'm a child. A child who's under a lot of internal and external pressure. Maybe I'm tired.

I curled up on the quilt, trying to breathe...better. Fucking emotions.

There was a knock on the doorframe. "Hey...(Y/N)?"