WIP
Chapter One[]
I cross my arms, stiff and hostile but holding back tears. “Do you have to leave?”
“I don’t want to,” my brother answers, brushing my hair behind my ear as he sits down next to me, the bed sinking ever so slightly from his weight. Ancient springs creak and groan under us. “But I have a job. The Titan’s awoken recently, in Bonfire, and I have to chase after the stupid thing.”
I sink into his touch, curling into a ball and closing my eyes as I mutter, “I know.”
“I’d spend every day of my life with you if I could. You know that.”
“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less.”
Hunter sighs, pulling me in for a hug. “Last day. You’ll be off in the Academy. You won’t even miss me.”
Is it just my imagination or has a touch of melancholy filled his voice?
“I will. I promise.”
He laughs lightly. “You act like it’s such a good thing. We’ll miss each other, yes, but we have our own lives.”
I can’t help but sound a little whiny as I say, “Do we have to?”
My brother grins, three sets of translucent wings fluttering lightly as he plants a kiss on my forehead. “Unfortunately.”
I bite my lip, leaning into his shoulder. “Stay?”
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he replies, tapping my nose lightly. “Boop.”
I squirm and giggle, which I only do around Hunter. “Stop it! I’m not a baby anymore. I’m going to the Academy.”
He smiles. “What do you remember about it?”
I shrug. “Not much. I’m sure you remember it better than me, though.”
A bit of anger flickers across his face, amber eyes filling with rage for just a second. But one touch from me can recall the fury.
“Mostly I remember having to take care of you, since he never really bothered to take care of us. But there are a few things… the Earth Tower, which had plants growing everywhere, and animals scampering about the place - I remember you used to be scared of the Mystiles.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Hunter laughs before continuing. “The great hall was too grand for its own good. Frankly, I doubt any words could do it justice. The Archives were mysterious and complex, and I never let you get within ten feet of the trapdoor, out of fear you’d get lost.”
I’m enamored by his words - the Academy sounds amazing.
And, frankly, pretty pretentious.
“Sounds a lot better than this,” I say, gesturing to the tiny home we own.
A square-shaped, one-room, tiny, cottage, tucked away in what is essentially the middle of nowhere. A small entrance is towards the bottom of the room, a completely empty mailbox sitting right outside. A single countertop, cabinet, and sink that make up the sad little kitchen sit next to it, unwashed dishes piled up around the place. Two beds, one much more well-made, are pushed into the corner, the messier of which the two of us are currently perched on. Three windows allow light to seep in, empty flowerboxes perched sadly on the windowsills.
Luxurious.
“Are you getting spoiled, Jade? Because maybe I can buy you a mansion when you get your own job at twelve.”
Another giggle. “I got my job at ten. I just don’t get paid is all.”
His gaze darkens. “I’d strangle that elemental if I could. What in the name of Astral was - well, Astral - thinking when they chose a-“
I press my finger to his lips to stop him from continuing. “Got it. You rant about this all the time, big brother, and never has it changed anything.”
He scoffs and rolls his wide amber eyes, getting off the bed and saying teasingly, “Well, little sister, you’re the only company I have, so you’re the only person I can rant to.”
I stick out my tongue at him, hopping off the bed and crossing over to the kitchen. “Bread or nothing?”
“Nothing,” he responds.
I turn, frowning, as I dig out our last loaf of bread. “Really? Come on, eat for once.”
Hunter grins, reaching behind himself. “Nothing except this.”
A squeal escapes me as he produces a small tin of brown things. I don’t know what they are, but I always trust my brother.
“What are they?” I ask, sitting on the bed again and eagerly prying open the lid. A sweet, cozy, smell wafts into the air - I have no idea what it is, but it’s amazing.
“The guy selling them said they’re made from something called chocolate. But the stuff is called brownies.”
I snicker. “Sounds like a racial slur.”
He bursts into laughter. “It does, doesn’t it? Whatever, try them. I bought them for you.”
I break a bit of the mysterious brownie off. It feels like bread, but softer and more dense. “Have you tried any yet?”
“No, I was saving them for you.”
I respond by taking a chunk of the stuff out of the tin and stuffing it in his mouth. “Eat. Or I won’t.” He scowls before chewing and swallowing, amber eyes doubling in size. “Oh, wow, it’s good. Try it, try it.”
I place the tiny crumb ever so tentatively on my tongue…
Oh, wow.
It’s sweet, but not the sweet of fresh water from the nearby spring or autumn apples and spring plums from the many trees. This is richer, softer, cozier, like being with my brother in the middle of winter.
I smile, worming my way into Hunter’s arms again and popping another chunk into both of our mouths. “This is chocolate?”
“We can’t find it around here,” he responds. “If only.”
I chew slowly and nestle closer into his grip, allowing a few moments of silence before asking quietly, “Why did he leave us?”
A question we’ve avoided far too long.
My brother chews for another ten seconds - more than enough time - before answering. “I don’t know. All I know is that he’s a terrible person and I’m glad he’s dead, even if he deserves worse.”
I stare at the ground, asking the question. “Do you remember Mom?”
Anger flashes in his vision again, a horrible anger that he rarely shows around me. “No,” he spits, hateful venom dripping from the word.
His voice softens. “Besides, we have each other. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
I give him a quick hug and jump off the bed. “I’ll collect fruit, it rained a week ago so they probably grew more, where’s the bucket for the spring oh there it is I think the pets need feeding-“
Hunter places a hand on my shoulder, grinning. “Relax. Okay?”
I hesitate before leaning into his hand. “Right. But then what?”
“Have fun for once. You deserve it.”
Sadness and regret and guilt tinge his tone as he watches an ant slowly attempt to pull its way up the windowsill.
I sit down next to him again, tugging lightly at his arm. “I’m happier than I ever would’ve been back there. I promise. Now come on.”
Hunter throws a piece of lint at me, laughing. “Alright, alright. Race you to the creek!”
I grin. “You’re on!”
He throws the door open and runs, quickly overtaking me despite my best efforts.
I double over, giggling and panting. “Slow down… ow… I can’t-“
The rest of my words are drowned in a squeal as my big brother tosses me into the air, wind whipping my face before I hit the grass again.
“Hunter!”
“What?”
I pause, as if considering my reply, before knocking into him and dashing down the hill. I’m so preoccupied laughing I nearly fall into the water, being caught by Hunter at the last second.
He laughs, putting me down lightly on the cool rocks that line the creek.
“You won,” he admits with a roll of his amber eyes, “even if that was cheating.”
“You didn’t state any rules,” I point out.
“You’re a menace to society.”
“Perfect for a Prodigy.”
Hunter sits next to me and I spread across his lap, a few strands of my hair falling into the river. We watch the river gurgle in silence for a few seconds before he breaks the peaceful monotony.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be.”
He smirks, brushing through my brown hair with his fingers and forcing out all the tangles. It doesn’t hurt, even though brushing my hair myself is usually torture. “Hunter?”
“Yeah?”
I stare at my brother’s face before closing my eyes and attempting to memorize it. Chin-length straight brown hair a tad darker than mine. Wide amber eyes. Tanned skin with a green tinge. Three sets of translucent wings that look like a bug’s. Freckles covering his nose and cheeks, like brownie crumbs or a splatter of dried blood. Small scars peppering his face from Titan hunting. Closed-off expression, emotions thrashing around behind his well-guarded wall. He’s a dead ringer for our father, but I try not to think about that.
Hunter smiles slightly when I open my eyes. “What is it?”
“Nothing. I just…”
To fill the gap that words can’t quite breach, I simply wrap my arms around him, holding on as tightly as I can. “I don’t want to go.”
“I leave for months at a time, how is this time any different?”
“I… don’t know,” I admit. “I guess I’m used to you leaving. But I’ve lived here my whole life.”
Silence. The river quickly fills it.
“I might die,” I whisper, letting go of my brother and dropping my gaze from his face down to the grass. “All for a job I don’t deserve or want.”
He pauses, jaw clenched. His eyes cloud over with anger, and I immediately feel bad for whining about my job when his is just as bad.
He was twelve when he became a Titan hunter, wandering in Lamplight Town with me, a nine-year-old, clutching his hand as he tried in vain to find a job. All of the recruiters were skeptical to say the least - bounty hunters laughed in his face, wandmakers scoffed, merchants pushed him aside. Eventually, he’d had enough whenan arena battler kicked me. They had a fistfight right there in front of the Arena, big enough that a crowd had started to take bets. It was almost funny - a malnourished twelve-year-old versus an adult who must have been over 150 pounds. Hunter had kicked his a**, though, despite a black eye and his wings being severely damaged. The other guy had a busted lip, fractured ribs, a broken foot, and bruises all over his body. It was pretty funny, to be honest.
Harvey, a Floatling who recruited Titan hunters, had taken interest in him. He’d given Hunter his spear, along with some money for the two of us. It was simultaneously the best and worst day of my life.
I remind my brother of the instance and he just laughs. “Never even got the guy’s name. Don’t think he made it into the Arena, anyway. Not after a pre-teen ruined his reputation.”
“You idiot,” I say, nudging his arm, “you could have gotten hurt.”
“You think I hadn’t already?” he responds playfully, but brutal honesty underlines his words. “I would’ve killed him if I could.”
That’s the side of my brother I rarely see - the angry, hateful, bitter, side. The side that was starved and abused and traumatized by our parents. The side that could kill. I sit up, running a hand through my now-partially-wet hair. “You okay?”
He pauses, then smiles. “Let’s check on the pets.”