Trigger warnings: self-deprecation, introspection about scars
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Varian gasped and curled into Hector's side as a clap of thunder shook the night. The warrior placed a hand out for his nephew to grasp. Two days since the incident, and Varian was starting to recover, but his nerves were on high alert. The others kept their distance, not speaking to the warriors or their nephew unless they needed to. Except for Lance, of course. He apologized to Varian a million times and hovered like a protective mother until Adira chased him away.
The three sat sideways on the bunk, Varian snuggled between the warriors. He'd been skittish and panicky at first, but his need for shelter and protection sent him into their arms before long. As long as Hector and Adira didn't make any sudden movements, he was fine. They kept to themselves, and the princess's group kept to themselves (except for Lance), and the atmosphere was thicker than the princess's skull.
Hector flipped a page in his book and glanced over at Varian again. His nephew was staring intently at the scroll pieces, mumbling to himself. Ruddiger snoozed in his lap, twitching slightly when thunder sounded, although that could be a reaction to his boy's flinching. Adira sat next to their nephew, drawing on his face with her red paint. She squinted and tilted her head slightly, dipping her finger in the paint and drawing a line on Varian's cheek. Then she grinned and added two dots. Hector craned his neck to see. Adira had traced a curved scar on Varian's face and placed two eyes over it to make a smile.
Hector dipped his finger in the paint and drew two more lines. Adira frowned. "Did you just draw fangs on my smile?"
"Yeah. What you gonna do about it?"
"It's a smile. It's not supposed to have fangs."
Hector grinned, showing off his unnaturally sharp teeth. "I resent the implication I'm not allowed to smile." He closed his mouth, letting his sharp canines stick out of his lips and sending Varian into a fit of giggling.
Thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated the night outside the window. Varian buried his face in Hector's side again. He wasn't afraid of storms, Hector knew, but he'd been alternatingly vivacious and jumpy ever since the last incident.
Hector hated how "incident" had become a common word for them.
"Aww, kid, you're gonna get red all over my shirt," he teased. "If I wanted to be covered in red, I'd hug Adira."
"She'd stab you," Varian mumbled.
"Yeah. That's where the red comes from."
Adira stuck her tongue out. "Maybe don't talk about b-l-o-o-d in front of him?" She suggested.
"Gee, if only I knew what that could possibly spell," Varian replied with a smirk.
"Don't sass me. Earrings!" she snapped at Lance.
He turned to her with a bright smile, heedless of her tone. "Yes, Ange-A-Ad-Adira?"
"I will cut out your tongue if you don't stop that whistling," she hissed.
He wisely shut up.
"You know, you could always ask nicely," Fitzherbert commented from his faithful place in front of his mirror. "It's not that hard."
"It's also not that hard to enjoy the sight of something other than your reflection, Orion," Cassandra snapped from the doorway.
"Narcissus."
"What?" She whirled on Varian.
"Narcissus was the one who fell in love with his reflection. Orion was a hunter."
She glared at him for a moment before sighing and looking away. "Whatever."
The princess entered their side of the caravan and sat at the table, sketching in her journal. Varian curled up further as she entered. Adira and Hector exchanged a look and slid closer together, sheltering Varian further.
Cassandra gritted her teeth as the princess's quill scratched over her paper. "Seriously, Raps, knock it off," she growled. "Is there any better way you could spend your time?"
"What, you mean like slicing up our apples for 'practice'?" she snapped back.
"Hey, if I'm going to protect us, I need to figure out how to use this hand properly." She waved her left hand. "Besides, if someone had listened to me about Varian, this wouldn't be a problem."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Yeah, what's that supposed to mean?" Varian echoed.
"I told you to let me watch him instead of Adira. She didn't guard him, and Hector got him back and broke my arm."
"Hey, lady-in-waiting," Hector snapped, "the only reason you ain't dead right now is because Adira was watching him."
"You tried to kill me. You failed."
"Want me to try again?"
"Okay," the princess interrupted. "Look, I get it. We're all aggravated because of the storm, and being stuck in here, but it could be worse. We could be out there getting wet."
"Hey, Sundrop, your caravan leaks," Hector snipped. "And I got a sick kid to worry about."
"I'm not sick," Varian grumbled.
"I heard you coughing five minutes ago. The weather's messing you up again."
"Lance! If you do not stop whistling, I will throttle you!" the princess snapped.
The caravan gave a shuddering lurch and jerked to a stop. Hector put an arm around Varian to keep him still. "What the dickens?"
The princess stepped to the door and looked out. "Tree down," she said. "I'll be right back." Throwing a cloak over her head, she stepped outside. She returned a moment later. "Well, it's official," she declared in annoyance. "We are stuck."
The others started bickering again. Hector ignored them. "How frizzy do you think her hair gets if she lets it out of the braid while it's raining?" he whispered to Varian. His nephew stifled a laugh behind his hand. Adira grinned and poked the boy in the side. Hector joined her in tickling the child, soaking in the sound of his laughter like cold water in a desert.
"Hector?"
He groaned and looked up. "What?"
Cassandra motioned to the window. "I asked if you think we should check out the house."
"Why are we asking him?" the princess demanded.
Hector stood and looked out the window. Off in the distance, lights shone from the windows of a shell-shaped house. Why was something like that out in the middle of the woods? And not far from where the caravan had conveniently gotten stuck? Hector gritted his teeth. The entire thing reeked of danger, of a trap.
Muffled coughing brought his attention back to Varian, as his laughter stole his breath and changed to a shuddering tremble as he collapsed weakly against Adira's side. He sighed. "Like it or not, I need to get him out of the cold. We'll try the house."
"That's why," Cassandra answered her princess.
She shrugged. "Okay, fine. At least it means I'm not the only one who wants to go. Come on! It'll be an adventure."
The handmaid grumbled a bit more but followed her. Hector pulled Varian's cloak up to cover his head. Then he took off his own and draped it over him.
"I'm fine," the boy insisted. "You'll get wet."
"I'll live. C'mon, sicko. Let's get you somewhere warm."
O‴O‴O‴
They ran through the rain up to the door of the cottage. Varian struggled to keep from tripping in the mud, knowing it would result in him getting picked up like a piece of luggage and carried to safety. Hector's cloak dragged behind him, and he gathered it around himself to try to keep it from getting dirty. Ruddiger curled around his neck under the hood. As they reached the house, Hector nudged Varian closer to the door to keep him further out of the rain as the princess knocked.
The door opened, and an elderly, white-haired gentleman peeked out. The princess greeted him and explained their situation. Varian tried to listen, but another coughing spell sent his head spinning. He dimly felt Hector lift him into his arms as he started to fall. He reached up a hand to grasp the fur-lined cloak.
"Zhat's not good," the gentleman stated, his French accent and posh demeanor giving the child uncomfortable flashbacks to another pompous, accented jerk who had sabotaged his life. Not that there was anything wrong with accents; Xavier back in Corona had a beautiful voice. "Your son iz ill?"
"Not my son," Hector growled. "And yeah. So if you'd let me get him inside, I'd appreciate it."
"Of course, of course! You are all most welcome!" He narrowed his gaze at the bearcats. "Except for zhe animals, of course."
Hector leaned slightly closer, towering over the man. "Where I go, they go. They're bodyguards. I can pay you for any inconvenience." His tone left no room for argument.
Wordlessly, the man stepped aside to let them in. Kubwa rubbed his head up against Hector affectionately and turned to the stable, the horses and birds following him. The humans and bearcats entered the house, the spacious foyer warm and inviting after the cold storm.
"If he doesn't have to leave his wolf-monkeys outside, how come Max and Fidella couldn't come in, huh?" Fitzherbert grumbled to the princess. "Personally, I think the horses are better behaved."
Kiki and Riki growled and circled around Hector's legs. "I said they're bodyguards," Hector hissed. "You won't need protecting from anything if you keep your hands to yourself."
"What, like you think we'd just attack him or something?"
"That's exactly what I think. How'd you get him back at the Tree, huh?"
"Manners, Hector," Adira chided. She turned to their host. "Thank you for understanding our concern, Mr..."
"Matthews," he explained. "And it iz quite alright. I understand a parent's concern for zheir child."
"Not my son," Hector snapped again as he set Varian back on his feet. Wavering unsteadily for a moment, he clung to Hector's arm. Why was it that every time he thought he was over his sickness, he ended up clinging to his uncle, too weak to even stand on his own legs?
Memories of that night spent running through the woods, combined with the storm that had started just after and hadn't let up since, reminded him why. Oops.
"Oh, dear," Matthews said as Hector took the dripping-wet cloak off Varian's shoulders. "Zhat's rather filthy, isn't it? Allow me. I'll take care of it and return it to you." He held out a hand for the cloak, and Hector acquiesced. Draping it over his arm, Matthews motioned for them to follow, he and the princess striking up idle conversation. He led them up a winding staircase.
"So this place is made entirely of shells?" the princess asked, looking around at the pink walls.
"I see you've noticed. Let me guess; you must be the genius of the group, oui?"
Lance didn't hold back. He'd been acting weird around the others for days now. "If you want to talk to a genius, Varian here is your man!"
Varian's face turned scarlet, and he shrank against Hector's side. "Leave me out of this."
"Oh, come now," Matthews said. "False modesty doesn't seem to suit you. You know the alchemical makeup of a shell, no?"
"Mostly calcium carbonate." He flinched, and Ruddiger purred softly against his neck to comfort him. "I don't want to talk about it."
The host and the princess kept chatting, and Lance came over to Varian as they reached the top of the staircase and entered a wide hall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"It's fine, really."
"No, I'm trying to respect your space, mostly because Adira threatens me when I don't, but also because I care about you, and I'm not going to push you. Sorry about what happened with the memory thing, by the way."
"I know. You've apologized every single hour since then for two days straight."
"I know, I just thought I'd apologize again."
Varian laughed softly, realizing with surprise it was the first time he'd laughed good-naturedly because of anyone from her group, the day of memory loss not included. "I forgive you. And thanks for trying to help me get over my fear. One day I'll talk to her. When we're both ready."
"That's fair. And I won't try to force it. You need time."
"Shorty, put those down!" Fitzherbert snatched a few crystal orbs from the old man's hands and placed them back in their bowl on the table against the wall.
Hector tilted his head and picked one up. "Var, you think I could balance this on my sword?"
"I said put those down!" Fitzherbert exclaimed.
The warrior glared down at him. "I do what I want."
"Hector, behave!" Adira hissed, snatching the orb. "Honestly, you're a child!"
The princess gave a strained laugh. "Mr. Matthews, It's so beautiful here! What is this place?"
"It's called zhe 'Ouse of Yesterday's Tomorrow." He waved his arms dramatically.
"Yesterday's Tomorrow. So... then, today?"
"Yeesh. Redundant, much?" Hector whispered. Adira whacked the back of his head.
Matthews didn't seem to notice Hector's behavior, still talking to the princess. He smiled at the group. "'Ere are zhe guest bedrooms. Please, enjoy your stay! 'Owever long zhat may be..." He turned and walked away.
Varian stared after him. Something was very wrong here. He stepped closer to Hector. His uncle noticed his mood and put an arm around his shoulders. "'S okay, kid," he murmured. "We'll keep an eye out." Letting go of him, Hector opened the door to one of the rooms. "Ugh. Someone tell this guy to fire his decorator."
Varian hesitated out in the hall as the others disappeared into their rooms. Every nerve on high alert, he looked around. Why did this man and this house terrify him so? Movement in the corner of his eye caused him to jump in fright before he recognized his reflection in a mirror at the end of the hall.
He stepped closer, still fighting his unease. He tended to avoid mirrors, as they only served to bring up bad memories. Sighing, he reached up to place his hand against the glass over the image of his right eye. Then he stopped, about a foot away from the surface of the mirror still, and used the back of his hand to brush away the smudged remnants of red paint on his face instead.
If his dad could see him now, what would he think? Would he be baffled by the change of clothes, surprised at the new definition to his muscles, concerned by the way he tensed and shifted as if expecting someone to attack him rather than his typical hyper fidgeting? Would he be horrified by the scars lining his son's body, or would he say it was his due punishment? Would he look past the broken exterior the way Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira did, seeing his marks but not letting that be all they saw? Or would he turn his gaze away, too disgusted to look on what Varian had become?
"Mirrors truly are a wonder, aren't zhey?"
Varian whirled around, drawing his knife, only to see Matthews standing nearby. When had he come back?
For his part, the man didn't seem all that concerned with having a blade pulled on him by a child. "Zhey show us both what we wish to see and zhat which we do not. One cannot have one without zhe other. Painfully honest, zhey are. Zhey show the darkness which we would 'ide away and ignore. And what zhey show is often dependent upon us. What we choose." He looked over Varian skeptically. "And sometimes what is chosen for us." He put a hand on Varian's shoulder, and the warrior-in-training had to fight the urge to stab him. He stepped back away from him and out from under his touch. Unbothered, Matthews continued, "I wonder which is which in your case?"
With those words, he turned and walked away. Varian walked to the edge of the steps and waited until he saw him reach the bottom floor and exit through another door before rejoining his family. What was with that creep? He took a deep breath and rejoined his family. He wouldn't let their unusual host get to him. But he'd be lying if he said the man's words hadn't given him food for thought.
They crashed in three of the rooms, the men taking one, the women taking a second, and the Brotherhood taking a third because they refused to split up or room with the others. The wardrobe in their room provided towels, and they quickly dried off and changed into new clothes from Hector and Adira's bags as Varian explained what Matthews had said. All three agreed that the man was up to no good.
Hector snatched Varian up and deposited him into one of the beds before he could react or complain. He crossed his arms.
The man crossed his arms right back. "Don't give me that look. You, mister, are staying right there."
"I'm fine!"
"Bullcrap. Stay."
Adira stood and started for the door. "I'll bring you food. Don't let anyone in unless it's me."
"What about Mr. Lance?" Varian asked.
"Ugh. Fine. Earrings can come in as long as Hector's here. Speaking of, don't leave." She closed the door behind her. Kiki followed her out, and Riki stayed to keep guard.
Hector pulled the blanket up over Varian. "Right. Ready for 'Embarrassing Stories About Aunt Adira'?"
"Is she going to stab you when she finds out you told?"
"Yep. So don't tell her. 'Kay, so there was this one time I told her about a weird noise I was hearing from the West Wing, and she went to check it out, and when she did, I hopped off the rafters and pretended to be a ghost. Scared her half to death. She went and told Quirin the castle was haunted." He shrugged. "Got a tongue-lashing from him. It was worth it for the look on her face."
"You scared the fearless Adira?"
"She wasn't always fearless. And it probably didn't hurt that I put a fake body in one corner. She wouldn't go in the West Wing again for a month, until Quirin gave her that black earring. Told her it would protect her. She knows better now, but she still wears it. I think she's just sentimental."
They stayed like that for a while, Hector braiding his hair and telling stories and Varian staring at the scroll pieces. A loud crash rang through the hallway, causing both of them to start with surprise. Hector drew his sword and stood, putting himself between Varian and the door. They waited, nerves taut, but aside from the muted sounds of talking in the hall that quickly faded, nothing else disturbed the peace. Hector sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. "Someone probably dropped something," he stated.
Varian just nodded, wrapping his arms around Ruddiger. It took maybe twelve minutes before they were torn from their musings again, this time by the sound of yelling. The door burst open, and Adira darted in, slamming and locking it behind her. She pointed her sword at them.
"What the dickens?" Hector demanded. "Adira—"
"Tell me the name of your first swordmaster," she ordered.
"Master Jethro. Why?"
She turned to Varian. "What did I ask your forgiveness for?"
"For not helping me in Old Corona. For leaving me to get arrested. Aunt Adira, what's going on?"
"Imposters outside. Neither of you left the room?"
"No." Hector sheathed his sword. "Your turn. What did you threaten to do to Lance in the caravan?"
"A lot of things. Most recently, cut out his tongue." She tossed a bag to Hector. "I got food. Stay here. I'll be back. Lock the door. Don't let anyone in, not even me. Unless I give you a code word."
"What word?"
She thought for a minute. "Twenty." She left, and Hector locked the door.
"That was... odd," Varian stated. "Will she be okay?"
"'Okay'? Kid, I pity the poor soul that tries to pose as Adira."
O‴O‴O‴
The yelling and crashing didn't get much quieter. Hector kept his blade ready, pacing back and forth, and Varian sat on the edge of the bed with his dagger. Riki sat near the bed, Ruddiger on his back. A pounding on the door accompanied the other horrific noises.
"Let me in!" a familiar voice hollered. "Guys, please, open the door!"
"Lance!" Varian jumped up. Hector put a hand on his shoulder. "Wha—we have to let him in!"
"We don't know it's him," Hector reminded him. "Could be an imposter."
"Please! Please, they'll kill me! They're coming!" The voice held sheer panic. "Please, they've got the others! Let me in!" The pounding continued.
"We can't let him die if it is him!" Varian pleaded. "We can test him. But please let him in!"
Hector groaned. "Step back. Keep your knife up. Don't get near him." He unlocked the door, yanked it open, and dragged the man inside by his collar. Slamming the door shut and locking it with one hand, he pinned Lance to the wall with the other. Then he pointed his sword at his throat. "Did Adira give you the code word?"
"Code word? No, she got snatched. They dragged her off!"
Varian gasped. "Aunt Adira's gone?"
"Where?" Hector snarled.
"The hall in the mirror! That's where they come from."
"Whistle that thing you were doing earlier that annoyed Adira."
"What?"
"Do it!"
Lance gulped nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can't whistle when I'm stressed."
The warrior leaned closer, getting within an inch of Lance's nose. "I won't ask again." Behind him, Ruddiger hissed in anger.
With a shaky laugh, Lance took a breath and attempted to whistle. Hector snarled and slammed him up against the wall again as the wrong tune passed his lips.
"Nice try, fake."
"Where's the real Lance?" Varian demanded, stepping closer.
"In the mirror," the clone answered with a smug smile. "I can take you to him, if you want."
"Not likely!" Hector twisted the clone's arms behind his back. "V, get the door. Careful."
Varian put an ear to the door to listen. He unlocked it and opened it carefully, peeking around the edge to check for more imposters. As soon as it was open far enough, Hector shoved the clone forward and out, slamming the door behind him and locking it again. "Right," he grumbled as he slid to a seat at the base of the door. "Let's not do that again."
O‴O‴O‴
They waited tensely until a much calmer knock sounded. "Twenty," Adira's voice called. Hector opened the door and let her in. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, yelping in surprise as Varian threw his arms around her waist.
"Aunt Adira!" His eyes widened, and he let go. "Sorry. I... I meant to tell you. I do forgive you."
She hugged him back. "Thank you, Varian. Come on. We need to get out of here right now."
They grabbed their bags. "What now?" Varian asked. "Back to the caravan?"
"It's a better option than staying here. I don't know what Matthews is up to, but it's not good. The clones are back in the mirror, but I'm sure that's not all he has up his fancy sleeve."
"Did you get got?" Hector asked.
She scoffed. "Please. I pity the poor soul that tries to pose as me."
They met the others in the hall. The mirror was turned around backwards. As they started to walk away, Varian slung his backpack up onto his shoulders. An apple slipped out and bounced across the floor. With a happy chitter, Ruddiger darted after it.
"Ruddiger, wait!" Varian exclaimed, turning to see his friend. The raccoon skidded across the floor, tripping on a rug and hitting the edge of the mirror. It swayed precariously, tilting and wavering, and Ruddiger screeched and scampered out from under it as it fell to the ground with a crash, a web of cracks appearing along the surface.
Varian snatched up his friend, wrapping his arms around him protectively as thick tendrils of smoke emanated from the cracks in the mirror. In turn, Hector and Adira wrapped their arms around Varian and each other. "Let's go!" Adira ordered, and they ran for the stairs, the princess's group beside them. They had almost reached the top of the stairs when the smoke reached them.
It was cold, so cold, reaching into him, reaching through him, diving down into the deepest parts of his heart, his head, searching, tearing, breaking into pieces the fragile walls that covered the deep pit where all the darkest thoughts and wishes resided, submerging itself and emerging less than a second later, leaving a burning in its wake—a burning that was oh so familiar and oh so hated and loved and despised all at once...
It tore away from him, having found exactly what it wanted, sending him collapsing to his knees. Weakly, he looked over to his family, who appeared just as mistreated. The princess's group also lay gasping on the floor.
Lifting his head, he watched the smoke gather in front of them—forming shapes, solidifying, taking on color. Eight in all, some tall, some short, all strangely familiar...
The shapes turned to look at their victims. Varian hissed in shock as a pair of bright blue eyes narrowed in triumphant glee as they stared down at him.
His eyes.
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As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!