Hellbeast

5

994 words

•———————•

Home. Why was Horus dreaming of home? Home was far away, it was in the past. He'd only ever had one. Sitting up, he notices he's in his childhood bed, the quilt is baby blue and the pillow is fluffy. Drawings are hung up all over the walls, not good, but he was just a child back then. The door opens quietly and his mother walks in. Her long black hair is pulled up into a bun and her green eyes sparkle in the sun. It's been so long since Horus has dreamt about his parents.

He sits up and lunges at his mother, tackling her and hugging her. It's just a dream, and he's a child again, and he knows his mother is dead. So this feels good. Ava laughs, sitting up with little Horus in her lap. She grins cheekily, and pecks his forehead. "Good morning sunshine! Glad to see you're up so early! I was coming to wake you up!" His mother's voice is the same it had always been. Smooth, light, clear. Was this really just a dream?

In the kitchen, Ava is whipping something up, and the house smells like pastries. A plate of eggs is sitting on the table, and Horus climbs up onto a stool. As he's reminiscing the taste of his mother's cooking, he remembers he can't eat in dreams. Something isn't right. Catching his wandering eyes, Ava smiles. "Horus. you know this isn't real, right?" He blinks, and a pastry is suddenly on his plate. Heavy footsteps are heard from outside and the door swings open violently. "Ava?"

A tall, shirtless man is standing at the door, long red hair waving around his face and torso, silver eyes shining hopefully. He spots Horus, and it's like the breath gets knocked out of him. Horus hasn't seen his father this clearly since he was a child, and he's never dreamt of him. He barely remembered him. He stares at this man, one he barely recognizes, one he's met before in a past life, an old version of him.

"Deistris, come in. Are you hungry?" Ava's smile isn't as bright as before, as if pained, and Horus can read his mother's face clearly, she's hurt. Ava is hurt. the demon, Deistris, walks in cautiously, not breaking eye contact with his mother. His expression is calm, disbelieving, but his eyes are panicked, unfocused. He doesn't think it's real. And of course, he shouldn't, because it's not. Not really.

His torso is littered with scars, all old, all healed. Around his neck is a silver necklace, his mother's necklace. He must've taken it off Ava when she died. As a keepsake. Deistris, the red demon, tamed by a townie that could grow flowers and barely use her magic. Horus watches his parents hug, tightly. He sees the demon's tears. Actual tears. He didn't think demons could cry. He didn't think his papa could cry. "Wake up Horus. You're not supposed to be here yet."

And then it's over. He's an adult again, laying on the same grass from before, staring at the same trees, the same sky. He's awake now, and the pain is dulled. Looking around, he noticed the ash is gone, probably blown away by the winds, but the charred bones are still there, black and brittle. magic pulses through him, two kinds, intertwining with each other, focusing on healing him. He remembers what he's done.

•———————•

It's odd for the eldest prince to be worried about something. Even odder when it's a someone. Mavic is uneasily flipping through a large brown book in the royal library, hoping to find some way to track the stranger. On the thirtieth page, it states you can track someone's magic. "Finally." Magic is the only thing Mavic has to track him.

It's hard to explain, and his parents wouldn't understand, so Mavic doesn't bother telling them, they wouldn't understand and he doesn't have the time to make them. He tells his Eldest sister, Marilyn, that he's going for a walk, and that he'll be back soon, and then he shifts and flies to the grove he met his stranger.

Everything is different now. The grass is still green, but not as bright. Leaves from surrounding trees are falling, bathed in shades of red, orange, and yellow. Soon it will be winter, where the cold is harsh and unforgiving. He must find him before then, because he's pretty sure he doesn't have a place to stay, and also sure-r that the kind stranger is being hunted for some reason.

In the center of the grove, a single tree is taller than the rest. Its leaves are a bright green, contrasting greatly to its surroundings, and a plethora of golden fruit hangs from its branches. The people of the kingdom spread rumors about it being grown by a demon, so none dare to eat it. Mavic hadn't bothered with correcting them. 'Good, let them think it's evil, at least then no one will dare to take what was gifted to me.'

Mavic picks an apple, splits it in half, and digs out the seeds. Pulling out a copper bowl, he pours water into it and drops the seeds. Next, he inhales deeply, summons his energy, and breathes soft fire into the contents. Looking down to see if it worked, he grins. Magic was not his strongest suit, but dragon fire, he could do.

The seeds have melted and reconstructed, into a thin stick with an arrow on one end. It points west, and west Mavic shall go. He doesn't know how long this will take, but with his dragon form, he'll cover land much faster than the stranger will be able to. Shifting, he picks the satchel up into his mouth, and spreads his wings. Whenever put into a body of water, the arrow will point in the way its master is. Wherever the master is, Mavic is coming for him.