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drabbles-of-writing · 1 year

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Pretending Not to See Your Ghost

AO3

Chapters: 2, 3

Summary: Darius has begun to notice a few...𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴 between Hunter and his old mentor. From appearance, to speech, to the smallest of characteristics, he always swears he'll blink, and his mentor will be standing right where Hunter once was, as though nothing had ever changed.

But he's sure it's only a coincidence.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Got that all out of your system yet?”

Darius let out a long, loud hiss.

“Taking that as a no, then.”

“Would you just be quiet?” He snapped, not even bothering to spare a glance back. It wasn’t worthy of a glare, even if the sight of the carnage in front of him made his chest twist.

It was only a tiny piece of the Night Market. No one would care for all the shops that lay in ruin, the potions strewn about, the spilled seeds of old plants. They weren’t worth the ugly gnarl in his gut. They weren’t worth the guilt. They were made by criminals, after all.

Criminals who lay in bindings, just against the nearby building. He suspected they wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

“Afraid not.” Said the jackass, yet again. “You don’t pay me to be quiet. Well, not that I’m really paid to begin with, but…hm, no, let me rephrase that. You didn’t hire me to be—”

“Let me rephrase,” Darius grit his teeth, clenching his hands up into tighter fists, shoulders hunching, “I am telling you to be silent.”

“I also can’t abide by that.” He continued anyway, voice entirely calm, entirely careless, and Darius could already see the strands of scattered abomination goop inching across the floor. Crawling out from cracks, reaching up towards his fists. “I don’t take orders from you. And even if I did, do you really think I’d listen? I mean, barring everything else, even you can’t seem to listen to orders, which is not a very good example to set. Believe me, I speak from experience.” He said, and it was a damn taunt, that’s what it was, and suddenly Darius didn’t care so much about his fear of witches coming to investigate the disaster around them. “Why, I have this apprentice who I think saw me skimp out on a few orders, maybe even ignore a few. Now, he’s running around thinking he can do whatever he wants, and that’s not very beneficial for—”

“Just shut up!” Darius snarled, curling in his throat and hurting with the force, from the amount of shouting he’d done before now, whirling, blinding hot fury making his skin hot and movements jerk. There was a wall of purple and black, a roar created from the goo at his fingertips, unyielding and—

A blip, the smallest kind. A blur of reddish magic, an abomination crashing down right where a body had been, moments before. The ground caved in where the witch had been moments before, abomination howling.

Darius saw the blur at the edge of his vision. Much too close, the flutter of a white cape in the wind, just behind his back.

Darius spun, fangs bared in a blinded growl, feeling the encasing of an abomination around his fist, and, partially on impulse, partially just to feel something break, swung as hard as he could.

It didn’t connect with the mask facing him. No, instead, it stepped aside, easily missing where Darius’s fist would have connected. In its place, a staff rose, knocking gently against the side of Darius’s wrist, some mock at a parry.

Under normal circumstances, Darius would have found the lack of a quip slightly alarming. Now, though, he just hissed, much more spitting-like than usual, abomination curling around his other fist, swinging just as wildly.

Again, another step to the side, staff moving away. It twirled in one hand, drawing down before the end of it shot up, catching Darius’s wrist between the two sharp spikes at the end, clinging tight.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Darius barked, yanking back with all his might and trying to wildly punch with his other hand, which didn’t much work, seeing as he had to try and punch over his caught arm, his adversary apparently making sure his wrist was stuck tight. “I don’t want yo–your stupid jokes or-or a bloody I told you so!”

The staff raised higher, jerking Darius forward with it. He stumbled, coming closer, more face-to-face with that golden mask. It stared impassively back at him, the owner keeping his arm high above as he looked down.

“Alright, then.” Said the Golden Guard, casual as can be. “I won’t.”

He knew what was expected of him here, held in a state of tense silence. He knew how it had gone, all those other times, when a stern look was leveled his way, when he’d made one too many mistakes. A harsh flick of the wrist, a tightening grip on a staff.

He never knew what would’ve happened if he didn’t stop. He just knew that, on instinct, he’d always halted whatever he’d been doing. Any and all abominations fell to the ground and out of sight, put away before he could find out just what the punishment would be.

The Golden Guard was not someone you tested the odds with. Darius had never been stupid enough to try. He knew he’d lose.

That was the Darius from back then, though, who knew much less, and who was even less furious. That was the Darius who had a healthy dose of fear for the Golden Guard.

He hadn’t feared the Golden Guard in a long while. Not by a healthy amount, at least.

So, Darius swallowed, then forced his eyes away from where he was staring at his caught wrist. He shifted it to the mask staring straight at him, forcing everything into his glare, into his fists curling tighter, tiny spikes pricking up along the knuckles.

He lifted his head, just a little bit. A challenge.

A stupid challenge, really. One he’d regret, he was sure, but that was a problem for future Darius.

If there'd be a Darius in the future, that is.

The Golden Guard held his gaze. Silent, and unmoving, save for the tiniest twitch of an ear that disturbed his hood, the only giveaway to how many thoughts were in that head of his.

Then, one hand left his staff. That hand raised, high above, and Darius watched. He looked up, saw it stop, knew when it’d come down. Only then, did he shut his eyes, shoulders hunching, and—

The hand lightly tapped over his head.

Darius blinked.

The Golden Guard snorted.

“You’re pretty damn impressive, kid.” He said, and Darius jerked his head up, looking at the hand placed at an angle over his head, not even ruffling his hair. “I take it that’s what you’d rather hear, yeah?”

Darius kept staring. The Golden Guard stared back.

“...what?” Darius got out.

“Hmm, yeah, I worded that wrong.” The Golden Guard hummed, head tilting slightly. “I mean, you are impressive, regardless of if you wanna hear it? Does that work? I dunno, but I’m not telling you that you’ve got ‘spunk’ or something.” He huffed, arm slowly falling back down to his side. “I’m not fifty-five.”

“What.” Darius repeated, for lack of anything else to say.

“Integrity, I think? That sounds like the right word here.” The Golden Guard tried to clarify, drawing his staff down, looking from Darius’s fist, then to his face. “Am I gonna get my lights knocked out?”

Slowly, very slowly, Darius shook his head.

“Wonderful,” The Golden Guard said cheerfully, snagging Darius’s sleeve, “hold still.”

With that, the Golden Guard yanked his staff away.

“Hey!” Darius yelped, feeling a spike of pain all through his wrist, coming to the realization he had gotten truly stuck in the spikes—and maybe it was a mix of the yanking, or Darius leaping back with all his might—but his wrist managed to pop free with another harsh twist.

“There we go!” The Golden Guard chirped, turning his staff over and inspecting it as Darius stumbled back, cradling his wrist. “Like nothing ever happened. Now then,” He said, still cheerful, spinning right on his heel, “we have your mess to pick up after. Which is a rather impressive mess.” He continued, oblivious to Darius’s wide eyes. “I think I’ll take credit for teaching you that—”

“Is that it?” Darius wound up blurting, and the Golden Guard paused.

It was a tense one, for just a moment, and Darius was stiffening up before the Golden Guard turned around, head tilting, body as lax as ever.

“Well, I’m gonna have to put you on errand-boy missions, if even that, for the next, oh, month or so.” He said, calm as ever. “But I’m happy to say that I’m pretty terrible at going through with normal punishments in this Coven. This kind of scolding will suffice, right?”

“I…” Darius stared, blinking slowly. “Jasper, you can’t be serious.”

“Well, you said you didn’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’” The Golden Guard shrugged, head tilting down slightly, enunciating where his eyes had fallen, and Darius glanced to see abominations were still around his fists. “And getting into a fistfight with my apprentice is typically poor form. So, I’ll go out on a limb here and say you weren’t being stupid on purpose.”

“It was a thought-out plan.” Darius grumbled, though he did slowly force away the goop. “And it was going just fine until you got here.”

“Mmm, sure it was.” The Golden Guard hummed, head slowly turning to take in the mess around them. “Fantastic, even. No, of course, we had to disobey orders for this. A very worthwhile endeavor, I must say—”

“This is a very basic drug-runner mission!” Darius snapped, gesturing with a hand to the tied up witches. “Something I can more than handle.”

“Like you did today.”

“It was working until you showed up like you always do!” Darius hissed, ears flattening back. “I was doing just fine in this Coven on my own, you know. I was picked from the best.” He took a step forward, glaring up at an uncaring mask. “I’m not a damn scout. I’m more than equipped for a proper mission, which I could show you, if you would quit running off!”

The Golden Guard stared down at him impassively. Darius had the urge to shrink back, like he always did. Instead, he forced his glare into something meaner, lip twitching over a fang.

Then, another snort. Darius almost barked a retort before the Golden Guard looked around, checking the perimeter. At nothing appearing in his line of sight, he lifted his hands to the bottom of his mask.

He pushed it up, and Darius saw a smiling, scarred face. One day, it’d look even worse than it already was. Right now, though, Darius still thought it was concerning just how many scars the boy had. He wasn’t that much older than him.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Jasper puffed, though there was a teasing edge to it.

Darius stared, blinked a few times. His glare lessened, and he took a small step back.

“I’m better than this.” Darius forced himself to say, glancing out to the wreckage. “Well—better than sitting out missions all the time.” He insisted.

“Yeah,” Jasper also looked around, “yeah, alright, I see your point.”

Darius straightened, and Jasper’s grin just widened, exposing each and every tooth. They were just a bit too crooked, and if you squinted, his left canine looked just a bit longer than his right.

“Don’t go getting a big head,” Jasper warned right after, eyes sliding to the side, and Darius was always just a little unnerved by them. They didn’t look like a witch’s, not quite a demon’s, and he’d never seen anyone with that unnatural shade of magenta, “but…hey, you sure made your opinion loud and clear.” He chuckled, ears twitching down slightly. “I swear, kid, one of these days, I’m not gonna know what the hell I’m supposed to do with you.”

It came off as a joke. And Darius puffed, very slightly, at his words. Jasper’s smile stayed, and he wanted to believe it as a tease. He wanted to, but it looked just a little too…soft. He dared call it genuine.

The Golden Guard wasn’t genuine. When was that ever even a possibility?

But Jasper was…he was listening. That was a first, and it was one Darius took. Perhaps he got a little giddier than he should’ve been, that Jasper was looking at him, not over his head, but he thinks he more than deserved it.

“My,” Darius said, because he wasn’t sure what to do there, but he had to say something, “is the great Golden Guard admitting he was wrong?”

“You see what I mean about the big head?” Jasper scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away, and Darius did snigger then, something that was almost a smile forming. “Honestly, I can't say one nice thing about people in this Coven, it makes them puff up like blimps.” He complained, sliding his mask back down.

“You’re part of this Coven.” Darius reminded, flexing his fingers to alleviate the shaking.

“Oh, hush,” Jasper grumbled, turning halfway, towards Darius stepping closer. He made a point to shoulder Darius’s side, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. The friendly gesture had him staring like a spooked rabbit, though Jasper hardly reacted, “you’re impressive for an apprentice. Remember that.”

“...course,” Darius cracked a real smile, then, finding he didn’t mind all that much, “of course, sir. Wouldn’t dream of thinking otherwise.”

“Eugh!” Jasper winced back, dramatic, making a gagging sound that had Darius fully giggling. “Kid, I told you about the ‘sir’ thing, never say that again—”

“Then don’t call me kid!” Darius huffed back, ears twitching, unable to hide his smile continuing to grow. “I’m barely younger than you.”

“You’re scarcely fifteen. It’s young enough.” Jasper waved his hand, turning away. “Tell you what, I stop calling you kid, and you don’t call me sir ever again. Sound fair?”

“Deal.” Darius nodded, looking out to the remains of this corner of the Night Market. “Do I have to help clean this up?”

“I’m tempted to say yes.” Jasper said, before he held out his staff, twirling it. “But I don’t want to clean this up. So let's skedaddle before someone makes us, huh?”

“And you wonder why I don’t listen to you.” Darius scoffed, and Jasper tilted his head, just a bit, a glance of his mask over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jasper hummed, “guess I should work on that. But I’m sure you’ll make sure I don’t forget.”

“Never.” Darius grinned, a promise he barely had to think about.

And, despite the mask in the way, despite how Jasper didn’t so much as twitch, he had a feeling he was smiling back at him, too.

Hunter flinched when Darius raised his hand.

That was the part that stuck in his mind. He didn’t let it seep into his features, managed to keep himself from even hesitating. He still followed through with his action, albeit much gentler than how it was originally, letting his hand gently fall over the boy’s head.

He grinned, then, at Hunter pausing, blinking up at him in surprise.

“I’m impressed.” He said, and he guessed it surprised himself as much as it surprised Hunter to know he was genuine.

Darius readily admitted he wasn’t much of a kid person. Too noisy and full of bad ideas for his liking. His patience only went so far, and so he never tried to put it in the same room as a child, let alone a teenager. There were many who’d be far better than him.

Hunter wasn’t exactly his proof of that, but…well, he’d been everything short of despising the kid from the moment he bore a mask he never once deserved.

Even then, he knew it was somewhat unfair. But it was so easy to sneer at the kid, to barely restrain a growl whenever he walked in, head up high, barking orders like he earned the right to so much as be in the same room as half the Emperor’s Coven.

He knew the kid wasn’t a slacker. But a nepotism hire was an easy way to erase any and all accomplishments done up till that point. He knew damn well that kid hadn’t done even close to enough to earn the title of the Golden Guard.

So, he didn’t like Hunter. Not when he was fourteen and first wearing the mask, and it only slightly lessened as the years went on. Turned to a burr-like grievance rather than a bitter resentment at the audacity—

But here, this is where the kid impressed him. Because Hunter was many things. He was a loyal dog, he was a kiss-up, a tryhard, spoiled, and everything expected from the nephew of the Emperor. That is to say, in short; annoying.

He’d never call the kid a rebel. Not for anything, not towards his own uncle.

And yet, there was that palisman on his shoulder, and there were bruises all over Darius’s body where a staff had whacked him, and he knew that, if he went into the forest, he’d still find those Hexside students, saved by the very boy who put them in danger in the first place.

He supposed, then, that perhaps it wasn’t so out-there for Raine to find it unbelievable that he and Eberwolf were traitors. That they had been blindsided by the idea, when Darius himself was blindsided by a sixteen-year-old who couldn’t sew for the life of him.

Before his hand came down, resting over the kids head, he had one thought, and it made him twitch with something that was slightly bitter, something slightly wistful, and that was this: Jasper would’ve liked him.

Jasper had a soft spot for the rule-followers who could be changed. For the ones who were so uptight that came to unwind. Not for the ones who spit and kicked for their rebellion from the start, but the ones that had a slow change, the ones that always gave the strongest reactions to Jasper’s shenanigans.

“Magic or not,” Darius said, and he tried not to let that old scar show in his expressions, “I think you’ll make your predecessors proud.”

This surprised him less, to know he was being honest. The rebellion part, that was easy. Jasper would’ve liked him for that alone. He always did, especially if that witch was, well, a massive pain in the ass.

As a successor, that part was a little more complicated. He supposed Jasper would’ve been proud to see his rank was being filled with people who were still going behind the Emperor’s back.

Hunter looked up at him, with, really, nothing short of shock. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, he supposed, something searching and flickering in his eyes, even as Darius tossed the old, raggedy cloak his way.

Hunter’s eyes were an odd shade of magenta, now that he was looking. Of all the witches to have Jasper’s rare eyes, of course it happened to be his successor.

It was another aching pang in Darius’s chest, but he smoothed it right back down. He’d had more than enough bittersweet reminders tonight, and now certainly wasn’t the time.

He had a Golden Guard to take home.

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