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For some reason, the eucalyptus tree seemed to have a very ancient aura to it.
Stephen had noticed it many times before. This was a route they frequented on to travel between the two towns separated by this forest, but it was the first time they had stopped to camp so close to this particular tree. He wondered if there was a reason for the tree to have such strong aura. Perhaps it had been planted here by another witch for some specific reason. Or perhaps it was just a randomized luck that it grew to be more aura-rich than others.
He pulled out the knife Tony had himself forged for Stephen, and started carving the bark of the eucalyptus. With precise movements, he created the shape of an eye, and within it he created the Sigil of Vishanti, the symbol that had represented his coven for centuries.
He stood back to inspect his work. There; if this tree did belong to another witch or a coven, he would simply find the sigil gone the next time he saw this tree. The other witch would remove any foreign symbol of claim from it.
“Stephen!” He heard Tony’s call from beyond the greenery, and the next moment, the genius emerged, pushing past some tree branches. “I found a small clearing with a pond— what’s that?” Tony’s eyes fell on the mark Stephen had just carved out on the eucalyptus tree.
“It’s, ahh.. I just felt like leaving our mark here.” A lousy excuse, Stephen knew. But he couldn’t exactly tell Tony that he was a witch and this was their coven’s symbol.
Tony raised ay eyebrow at the mark. “Lame. That’s not how you leave a mark. Gimme,”
“Wait,” Stephen spluttered, but Tony simply took the knife from his hand, moved near the tree, and started carving out his own mark, right under Stephen’s.
‘Tony Was Here’
“There,” Tony grinned proudly at it. “Now anyone who sees it will know exactly who was here.”
Stephen huffed. Well, that mark would mean nothing to the witch who owns the tree — if there is one — so he supposed there was no harm done.
“Come on,” Tony said, nudging at Stephen’s arm. “We need to setup camp before sunset. I found a nice spot.”
Tony led them to the spot in question and it was, indeed, nice. A conveniently large area was cleared around a pond. While Tony was setting up a fire, Stephen discretely cast a simple ward around the area to deter any predatory animals that may try to approach their camp. It was truly a surprise that Tony had never once, in any of their visits, noticed that they’d never had a run-in with anything bigger than a wild cat.
Town boys.
Tony had no idea just how many times Stephen had saved his ass. He wished he could brag about it, but that would require him to reveal certain other secrets, such as him being a witch.
The sun had set by the time they had set up their camp for the night. When the fire had grown bright and warm, they huddled together close to it, leaning on each other, watching the blue sky turn darker and darker, until it was black, the bright radiance of a thousand stars twinkling overhead.
It was nice.
“Let’s run away,” Tony suddenly said.
Stephen blinked. “What?” He sat upright to stop leaning on Tony, and tilted his head at his partner.
Tony looked back at him, eyes reflecting sincerity. “You heard me.” He was entirely serious.
Stephen was well aware of the situation with Tony’s life. He was a Witchfinder by day, Blacksmith by night. He hated his job as a Witchfinder, a career he’d been forced into by his father, the head of their town’s Witchfinders sect. Tony passion was creation, not destruction. He disliked taking lives of the healers and midwifes who were frequently accused of practicing witchcraft (most of them weren’t even true accusations, and yet they were mercilessly burned at the stake).
For Tony, living with his family was comparable to hell, and his escapades with Stephen were a much needed reprieve, where he would use the excuse of ‘inspecting suspicious activities’ to visit the neighboring town with Stephen, and let his creativity loose in the private forge he owned there.
Stephen’s own situation wasn’t the most ideal, either.
While his family was open-minded and would have easily welcomed Stephen’s male lover to the family, the problem was glaringly obvious: Tony was a Witchfinder, in fact, he was The Witchfinder’s son. Hence they disliked it whenever Stephen lingered too much around Tony. Tony had, of course, taken note of the passive hostility Stephen’s family always seemed to aim at him.
He hadn’t told anyone that he and Tony were in a relationship, not even Donna.
But just because they had all these obstacles to reach a near-perfect life, didn’t mean they should just run away. Stephen was 17, and Tony had recently turned 19. They still had their entire life ahead of them to achieve that ideal life.
“No, Tony. What about your mother? Your friends?”
Tony huffed, letting his back slump down until he lay flat on the ground, Stephen turned further to face him. “It’s suffocating. I can’t take it anymore.”
Stephen sighed, massaging his face with a hand.
“It’s suffocating for you too,” Tony continued. “I know it is. You think you’re so good at hiding but you’re not.”
Tony was right.. but Stephen felt suffocated for entirely different reasons than what his partner might be imagining. Stephen was a witch dating a Witchfinder’s son, how could his life not be stressful? He didn’t even know what Tony would think if — when — he was to find out the truth about Stephen’s identity. Would his love turn to hatred?
Stephen liked to think that it wouldn’t...
“Think about it, Steph,” Tony insisted. “We can be free from the expectations of our families. We can build our own family. Buy a house. Or just be a nomad and make a hut in the middle of the forest.”
Stephen snorted. “What, like here?”
Tony shrugged, grinning. “Why not?”
“You aren’t built for the nomad life, Tony. You’ll die in less than a day without me.”
“Then it’s all the more reason for you to accompany me,” Tony said, pulling Stephen down to the ground with him, and they turned into a laughing and giggling mess, limbs entangled together, their bodies pressed close against each other. It turned into a slow, sensual kiss.
Tony broke apart. “I’m willing to make a house anywhere in this universe, as long as you’re by my side.”
A warm feeling took over Stephen at that, and he basked in its comfort. “I love you so damn much.”
Tony gave another peck on his lips. “Me too, my witchdoctor.”
Oh, if only Tony knew just how much more accurate that title was for Stephen…
“Here, stop here,” Tony croaked out.
The driver paused the wagon and looked at him doubtfully. “Here? This is right in the middle of the forest.”
“Yup.” Tony carried himself off the wagon with too much effort, pain shooting up in his chest with every. Once he was off the wagon and able to stand for longer than two seconds without falling, he turned to the driver.
“There’s no town here for miles, mister,” the driver tried to reason. “Let me take you to the next town.”
Oh, how Tony wished he could go. But he was being hunted by witches, and he didn’t think they’d stop just because he hid himself back in his hometown.
No, they wouldn’t stop, because there was no one to stop them. They were working with Obadiah, the leader of their town’s Witchfinder sect. Tony’s godfather. Practically his parent.
His godfather, the person who had been there for him as a parent figure nearly his entire life, was one who had sent the witches after him in the first place.
The reminder left a sour taste in his mouth.
Tony shook his head at the driver. “Thank you for your help, but I am exactly where I want to be.” He then proceeded to take his engagement ring off his finger. “I hope this ring is enough to repay you, it’s 18 karat gold—”
“Please, I cannot accept that in good conscience. What of your betrothed?”
Tony internally sighed. Him and Pepper were nothing like that, it was simply a marriage of convenience. Neither she nor himself would miss this ring. Besides, he could always just craft a new one.
“She’ll understand,” Tony replied. “Her betrothed’s life is more important to her than our rings.” Which wasn’t a lie. “And I’ve got nothing else to pay you with.”
“Then I will ask of nothing,” the wagon driver said. “Get well and reunite with your family, I will consider my debt paid.”
Tony swallowed, and nodded. “Thank you, truly.”
The driver bade farewell and continued down the path with his wagon, while Tony watched it disappear in the woods, wondering, did he truly have a family?
Did he even deserve one?
He glanced up at the marking that had helped him identify this location in the woods.
The aged eucalyptus tree still bore the carving on its bark, as concise as the day it had been created. The shape of a strange eye, decorated with four curved lines inside it. Like a rune that, perhaps, meant something in the world of the witches. Right below it were the carved words that spelled out, ‘Tony Was Here’.
Stephen’s home was so close.
Tony swallowed around the tightness of his throat, starting a trek towards the path he knew would lead there. He lightly clutched his heart where the witches’ curse pulsed strong and malignant.
This was possibly the worst idea ever in the history of all the worst ideas Tony had ever had. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t even know how Stephen would react to him being here.
Too soon, he had arrived at a small clearing in the woods. A pond, next to which stood a tall bushy tree. In its shade rested a warm, homey looking hut.
His steps halted.
He shouldn’t be here. He should turn back now. Maybe run after that wagon before it was completely out of his reach forever. He should go back to his town, figure something out to fight the witches there. He didn’t even know if Stephen would welcome him. God, what was he thinking? What if Stephen tried to hurt him—
No.. no. Stephen wouldn’t. He wasn’t that kind of a person. Tony knew he wouldn’t hurt him.
Or at least.. at least Tony liked to imagine that he wouldn’t.
Tony sighed, leaning his back on a thin tree, still clutching his chest where the curse gave him a constant pain. It felt like a gaping hole had been torn open in his chest and it was only being shredded wider and wider with each passing moment.
It was incredibly selfish of him to have come here after everything he had put Stephen through. But.. where else could he even go? The witches would find him. They’d find him no matter what, and they’d kill him. It was only a matter of when and where.
He needed help. Help that he didn’t know where else to go for.
He slowly walked over to the door of the hut, feeling his steps getting progressively heavier. His chest was paining so badly now. He had no idea what the curse was or if it could even go away. God, would he just simply die of pain at some point?
He didn’t want to die.
He wanted the pain to stop.
Standing at the door now, he hesitated for a few seconds. Then, tentatively, he knocked twice.
There was no sound from the inside for a few seconds, and Tony wondered if that was Stephen’s answer to him. A resounding ‘you’re not welcome here’ without any words spoken. But then there were some faint shuffling sounds in the distance, and then there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps getting closer. Tony felt a mess of emotions rising in his chest. Guilt, pain, nervousness, fear, relief, everything whirled inside him.
The door made a click sound and opened, a deep, baritone voice already speaking before the door had fully swung open.
“Loki, I told you t—”
Stephen froze when his blue-green eyes fell on Tony. Completely froze, staring at him.
Tony took in the witch’s profile. He was older now, gone was the young, youthful face that Tony had known. He had grown facial hair. There were streaks of gray at his temples. And he wore proper witch attire, the blue robes looking too warm for this time of the year.
He had changed so much.
Although, so had Tony.
Silence stretched between them, deafeningly loud against the backdrop of distant, muted forest sounds.
Tony tried to find his words, but his throat seemed to close up. Trying again, then a third time, and then finally he was able to speak the fourth time.
“I need help.”
Stephen said nothing at first, continuing to stare at Tony. For a moment he wondered if Stephen had even heard him.
The sound of a meow interrupted the silence, and Tony looked down to find a beautiful, fluffy, golden-furred cat sauntering out of the house. Its fur almost seemed to shine a brilliant rose gold color. It was Stephen’s familiar, right? It had to be.
The cat walked past Stephen’s legs, rubbing against it as it went, then sniffed Tony’s leg, followed by rubbing against him as well. It then turned its head up to Stephen and meowed again.
Tony had no idea what was going on, at least until he looked up at Stephen and found his expression growing furious.
Great, he had pissed Stephen’s familiar off just by existing.
“You have the audacity to come here,” Stephen hissed through gritted teeth, his voice threateningly deep.
“I..” Tony swallowed, trying to articulate through the sheer intensity of shame and guilt and pain swirling in his chest. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
Stephen scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. The entire army of Witchfinders that your father has wasn’t enough!?” Stephen was louder now, much louder than Tony had ever heard him be, seething with repressed fury. “Or the multitude of friends you have? No?” Tony was backing away in fear now, as Stephen stepped closer and closer to him, yelling. “Then how about that group of ‘white witches’ associated with the church that you mother had connections to? They didn’t help? How about your lover, I’m sure she’d be willing to listen to whatever problem you have, right?”
Tony’s back hit a wall, halting him. Upon inspection with a hand, he found that it was not a wall but the thick trunk of the tree.
Stephen loomed before him, trapping him where he stood, eyes an icy cold, piercing Tony with such hatred, he thought he could die just from the intensity of it.
“Instead of going to any of them, you come to me, who’s never had any of your privileges, who lost everything, thanks to you.”
Tony wanted to speak something, anything, but found that his body was too weak to even make a sound, too weak to keep standing.
He felt his balance tilt and his thoughts slip away, and his eyes closed by themself.
Stephen stared down as the man in front of him crumpled to the ground and fell unconscious.
‘Idiot!’ Levi hissed at him, arriving by Tony’s slumped form on the ground to sniff at him again. They then turned to Stephen, throwing an accusatory glare with their feline features. ‘Help him, he’s injured!’
He looked at Tony again. He looked so thin and weak, all color had been drained from his face. There were stains of blood on his clothes, and a dark and dangerous aura of magic was wrapped all around his soul. The man looked so weak and vulnerable and defeated.
Almost all of his anger fizzled away, concern taking over.
“Help me take him in.”
Levi booped Tony’s nose with a paw, letting some of their magic wrap around the blacksmith. The next moment, Tony’s body was floating in the air by Levi’s magic, aided by Stephen who kept his neck upright.
They brought him in and gently placed him down on Stephen’s bed.
Stephen swiftly pulled off the blacksmith’s shirt, revealing the mess that was his chest.
Bloody bandages wrapped messily around his torso, the glowing purple blotch right above his heart pulsed with a witch’s spell, powerful and malign, visible even through the bandages.
Stephen and Levi shared a look.
He moved over to his shelves to start picking out ingredients, traditional medicine first, to treat the downright horrific wounds. The spell imbued in his chest would have to go last, Tony likely didn’t have enough strength in his body to withstand magical healing right now.
‘Who is this human?’ Levi asked, pawing around the body as Stephen arrived by the bedside with all the traditional medicine he was going to need. ‘Why is there a spell on his chest?’
“He’s.. history.” He was part of a past that Stephen had never expected to be unearthed again. Or, rather, had never wanted it to be unearthed.
He looked down at his gloved hands, sighed, and then looked back up at his latest patient.
“And I don’t know what is in his chest or how he got it.”
Quickly casting a spell to keep his hands stable, he began picking through the mess of bandages, slowly untangling tp deal with the biggest wounds. They were showing the beginning stages of infection. He was careful with cleaning them, followed by closing them with threads imbued with magic to prevent further development of infection, all the while he kept an eye on Tony’s vitals.
Finally, he moved his attention to the glowing purple spot right on Tony’s chest. With the bandages and blood out of the way, he could clearly see it now. It looked as though someone had carved a hole on his chest and had stuffed it with purple matter, the tendrils of which were slowly eating away at more and more of Tony’s skin, spreading, expanding.
Of course, there wasn’t a literal hole in his chest. The spell was simply imbued so deep into his skin, it seemed like it was eating away at his body. In reality, the spell was eating away at his soul.
And Stephen needed to stop it, before it had swallowed too much of Tony.
“Bring me the Xorrian Elixir,” Stephen told Levi, moving closer to Tony’s head. “I need to wake him up just long enough to put some into his system.”
Levi hopped away, and Stephen placed a hand on the blacksmith’s forehead to inspect the state of his mind. It only took a superficial check to conclude that even his mind had been invaded.
Stephen felt a pang in his heart.
Levi returned with a cup of the potion he had requested, hopping up on the bed with the cup floating next to them.
Stephen closed his eyes and gently nudged at Tony’s subconscious.
‘Wake up.’
Tony’s eyes opened slowly, still lined with pain. Stephen know, though, that he still wasn’t fully conscious. He let out a grunt of pain as Stephen nudged him to sit a little upright.
“It hurts, I know,” Stephen crooned, taking the floating cup into a hand. “It’ll feel better, soon. I promise.” He pressed the cup against Tony’s lips.
Tony slowly gulped a few sips of the potion, growing more reluctant with each sip. Understandable; the Xorrian Elixir wasn’t the worst tasting thing out there, but wasn’t exactly pleasant either. Stephen tried to make him drink as much as possible. When he was satisfied, he passed the not-quite-empty cup towards Levi who took it off his hand with levitation, and made Tony lay down again.
“You’ll be alright. Sleep, now.” Stephen gently brushed his gloved hand over the hazy eyes, and they fell closed.
Once the potion kicked in, Stephen would be able to treat Tony with magic without there being too much complications due to his current weakness.
He looked down at the purple blotch.
The spell was full of so much malice. It almost looked like a curse. It wasn’t though. It was just a deep-rooted spell. And it looked so.. painful. It had to be hurting Tony every waking moment. There was no objective to it, even. It was crafted to be as painful as possible just for the sake of it, to give him a slow, painful death.
Stephen couldn’t understand why someone would do such a thing.
Then again, he never quite understood why people were so often, so easily willing to harm another being.
Switching to witchdoctor mode, he began doing what he did best: saving lives.
Tony entered the orchard garden, a hand tucked in his pocket where he cradled the beautiful, intricate silver necklace he had been crafting for Stephen.
The apple orchard was in full bloom, all the trees around him covered in pink flowers. This was his and Stephen’s favorite meeting place. They were on good terms with the owner, who easily allowed them to come and go as they pleased. It was also one of the safest places in the town to meet in daylight without being caught or raising suspicion.
Well, technically it was sunset right now but, details.
As he arrived closer to their special spot, he could see Stephen standing under the tree shade. He smiled when Stephen looked up at him, though that smile wavered when he realized that Stephen had a tense expression in his face.
“Hey cutie,” Tony called when he finally stood next to his partner, and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “What’s got you in knots?”
“Tony.. listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Tony grew a lot more serious, sensing the reluctance in Stephen’s voice, the way his face was dour, expressionless.
“And that would be..?” Tony asked dubiously, getting the feeling that it was something he wasn’t going to like.
Stephen looked down at the dead branch in his hand. “Remember you asked me why Donna hated your gift so badly, she tossed it into the lake?”
Tony hesitantly nodded. It had taken him days to figure out how to craft such a delicate amulet, and he’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been hurt by the sheer disdain Donna’s eyes had held when she’d thrown his birthday gift to her into the water.
Stephen sighed. “It was nothing personal.”
“That’s what you told me that day too.” And yet Tony had shed a few tears, because what kind of reason would have made her react in that way?
Stephen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened those blue-green eyes again, there was a certain determination to them. “She reacted that way because we’ve simply been taught to hate witchfinders since our birth.”
Tony stared at him dumbly. “Why?!”
Stephen looked down at the dead branch in his hand again, and Tony followed his gaze.
Then, as Tony watched, gold light emerged out of Stephen’s hands, wrapping around the dead branch. Tony gasped, taking an instinctual step back, his eyes fixated on the dead branch. He watched it be renewed, watched as the darkened dry wood reverted back to a form that was hydrate and light in color, watched as pretty green leaves and white-pink flowers grew out of it. He watched the branch grow past its original length, sprout smaller branches, growing more leaves and flowers until it almost looked like a small, messy bouquet.
He watched the entire process, but he had only really needed to see the gold coming out of Stephen’s hand in the beginning, to get his answer.
“It’s because I’m a witch, Tony. My entire family is.”
No.
Stephen passed the branch-bouquet towards him.
Tony took an aborted step back.
Stephen’s face fell. “Tony?”
It can’t be..
Stephen tried to take a step forward. Tony turned away and ran.
“Tony!”
Too many emotions filled his chest. Hurt, love, betrayal, confusion, disbelief.
Stephen was a witch. Had always been.
Tony had been dating a witch, behind his father’s back no less. God, how had this happened? How had he never suspected a thing? Had this all been a ploy by the Stranges to get the Starks?
“Hey, watch your step.”
“Sorry.”
There were too many thought and too many emotions. Tony couldn’t think straight.
And their love, what of it? Was it all fake? Had Stephen simply been using him?
Had he ruined his own life, his own heart, by falling for a witch who had never even truly loved him back?
“Tony? Tony!”
Pepper’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked around to find himself in her house. Pepper had both her arms on his shoulders, face drawn into a concerned frown.
“What’s going on? Why are you here, looking like.. that? What happened?”
“I..” Tony swallowed, taking a few breaths to calm down his racing heart. Some of the common sense seemed to return to him, and he realized that Stephen had just revealed himself to Tony, and instead of asking or letting him explain, Tony had simply ran away, stranding him there.
He massaged his face with both hands, exhaling a shaky breath, then looked up at Pepper.
“I just learned something that I.. something..” Tony shook his head. “I need to go back to him.”
“To who? What did you learn?”
“I can’t tell you,” Tony said, shaking his head as he walked past Pepper, towards the door. “Sorry. For showing up unexpectedly.”
Pepper shook her head. “No, it’s fine, your father is visiting here anyway. But Tony, you look like shit. What in the world happened?”
He halted at the door, because he had absolutely no idea what to do. He had no idea what to say to Stephen. God, he was a mess.
One thing he knew, though, he couldn’t let his father find out the truth about Stephen and his family. He couldn’t let that happen.. not to Stephen.
But he had also just left him in the orchard like a complete asshole.
“Pep, I need your help,” he said, turning around to his friend again. “But you can’t tell this to anyone. Promise me.”
“I won’t,” Pepper nodded in a ‘go on’ gesture.
“Okay. Uh. Stephen just told me that he’s a witch.” Pepper’s eyes widened, a hand coming to cover her mouth. Tony quickly added, “Do not tell this to anyone. My father cannot learn this.”
“It’s too late for that now, son.”
Tony swore his heart stopped when that familiar voice fell on his ears.
Slowly turning around, he found his father standing there, and his stomach fell to the floor.
When Tony came to, the first thing he realized was that the pain was gone.
No, not gone, he quickly amended. It was just.. so dull now, it was like the pain barely existed anymore.
And there was.. a strange sensation in his bones. Like vibration. Yes. It was definitely vibrations.
He also noted, belatedly, that his chest felt much heavier than before. He felt dejected. Perhaps the curse hadn’t left after all. Perhaps it had progressed to the next stage and Tony was simply so used to the pain that his brain registered less of it and more of the new changes.
He slowly opened his eyes.
And blinked when he found himself under a warm ceiling of a hut, rather than the cold stone ceiling of a cave.
The vibrations in his bones apparently had a source, and that source was also currently making a very soothing, pleasing sound. He craned his neck to look at his chest.
There, sat a loaf-sized, golden-furred cat, purring contently.
“Oh,” Tony breathed, blinking at the cat.
He was not dead. He was not trapped in that cave with those evil witches. He was free..
And he was feeling so much better.
He let his head fall back down, sighing in relief.
He had come to Stephen begging for help.. and Stephen had given it to him. He would never be able to repay Stephen for this, even if he tried his entire life.
He tilted his neck around, taking in the view of the hut. It was.. much bigger from the inside than it had appeared from the outside. There was a brewery in one corner, a small kitchen adjacent to it. And then a corner held a large bookshelf—
Tony stilled.
There, at the desk in front of the bookshelf, sat Stephen, a book cradled in his lap.
A pang of guilt spiked in Tony’s chest.
“How do you feel?” The healer asked without looking up from his book.
It took Tony a second to find his voice again. “Alive.”
Stephen just hummed in answer.
“Thank you,” Tony added.
Stephen didn’t answer anything to that.
He looked down at the cat again. It was looking at Tony through half-lidded eyes, never having stopped its purring. The sensation it sent to his bones was really therapeutic.
“Uh.. what’s its name?” Tony asked tentatively, looking at his witch companion who was still engrossed in his book. “He or she?”
“They. Call them Levi.” Stephen still wouldn’t look his way.
Tony simply nodded a little, and turned to the cat. “Thanks to you too, Levi.”
Levi meowed in answer. Tony took it as a ‘you’re welcome’.
Silence took over the room, and Tony felt more awkward the longer it stretched. But he didn’t know what to say either.
“Stephen, I’m sor—”
“If you’re feeling well enough to stand by yourself,” Stephen cut him off, abruptly standing up from his place as he closed his book. “Then I’d prefer it if you vacated my house.” Depositing the book on the desk, Stephen locked eyes with Tony.
Where once those beautiful eyes would have met his with affection, devotion, and an overflowing amount of love, now all that met him was an icy-cold expression.
Tony’s heart cried at the sight.
It was the right thing to do. He should leave Stephen alone. Stephen owed him nothing. But..
But he owed Stephen a lot, way more than he’d ever be able to repay. He had always ached to fix his mistakes, knowing that he’d never be able to. Because they were way past the point of fixing. It was like an infected wound, festering in his heart and spreading deeper and deeper as time passed.
He needed to do something. He refused to continue to sit back and do nothing about it.
Testing his body’s mobility a little, he moved his hands to prop himself on them as he slowly sat up. Levi left his chest when they realizes he was getting up, letting out a concerned meow. His body felt weak, but it was nothing new in the face of the general weakness he’d gained after living in that cave. His chest didn’t hurt anymore, and he was just glad for that.
He got off the bed, standing on wobbly legs, and slowly walked closer to Stephen, the latter still staring him down with a frigid expression. He looked up at those eyes, and hoped sincerity showed in his own.
“I’m really sorry, Stephen. I didn’t..” his voice wavered as his eyes filled with unshed tears, “Didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Stephen’s eye twitched, and that was all the reaction he allowed Tony to read. He then looked away, scoffing. “What are you apologizing for? I should be the one apologizing to them for single handedly tossing their lives away, just because I was a foolish teenager madly in love.”
Tony swallowed, trying to blink back the tears, find his words through the whirlwind of emotions in his chest. “I.. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I am so sorry, Stephen. I don’t know how to make you believe that I really am. No amount of apologies will be enough to—” Tony clutched his chest as a sudden, sharp pain took over, and his body lurched forward. Stephen caught him on instinct.
Tony let himself lean on the firm body supporting him, suppressing a whine as the jolt of pain subsided in waves. His body curled in on itself protectively.
Stephen guided him back to the bed, made him lay down, and inspected his chest. Looking down at it now, Tony noted that, where the purple had been before, now gold had replaced it. Bright, beautiful gold, like the day Stephen had summoned a bouquet out of a dead branch for him.
God, he hadn’t even taken the bouquet from him.
But that was, perhaps, the least important highlight of that fateful day.
Stephen then proceeded to take off one of the gloves — Tony only now realizing that there were gloves at all — to reveal a slightly deformed, blackened hand.
Tony stared at it in horror.
Stephen wasn’t paying attention, instead inspecting Tony’s chest with his hand, letting gold magic flow out of them and into his chest. But Tony couldn’t take his eyes off of the charred-looking hand. Of course, it made sense that Stephen would have sustained permanent injuries from that day, but to see it for himself..
“You will stay here,” Stephen declared, and Tony snapped his head up in surprise.
Stephen still wasn’t looking at him, covering his hand back under the glove.
“The spell has left lingering effects on your body. You need to stay near me so that I can monitor your health.” With that, Stephen turned around, moving away.
Tony didn’t know what to say to that, except, “Thank you, Stephen.” He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Tony, wait! Please!” Stephen called out to his love’s retreating back, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Tony just ran and ran and ran, until he was out of sight.
Stephen stayed rooted in his place.
He couldn’t think anything. Couldn’t feel anything but a building dread, fear, heartbreak.
He had thought it was the right decision, to tell Tony the truth. He had thought that Tony would come to accept him, that he would love Stephen regardless..
He had never thought it would go this terribly.
What should he do now? Chase after Tony, try to reason? Beg him to take Stephen and not harm his family? Tell his family the truth and run away with them before the word spread?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know..
He had messed up, and he didn’t know what to do next.
He stared down at the bouquet that he had brought to life with his coven’s signature healing magic, and realized that his vision was blurry. Hot tears were streaming down his face.
He had been abandoned, and now him and his entire family was in danger, because of his foolish decision.
He wiped his tears. Standing here wouldn’t do him any favors. He needed to move. He needed to act, before it was too late.
He tossed the magical bouquet on the ground and ran. Ran out of the orchard, towards his house, where his family must be preparing for dinner, none the wiser to the danger they were all in now.
To his horror, when he reached his house, he found a party of Witchfinders already gathered, holding torches and pitchforks and spears. Fear ensnared his heart in a tight grip when he heard the cries of his sister and the shouts of his brother and parents.
‘Burn The Witch!’ The crowd cheered over and over as his family was bound by tight ropes. Someone caught him from behind and started binding his body as well, but he barely registered that, his eyes fixated on his family as they were dragged towards the large stake and tied to the wood so that they may not escape.
And then they brought the torch close to the stake.
Stephen’s body moved by itself, trying to fight instinctively, in defense, in protection of his family, but it was all just useless struggle against his strong binds.
In a surge of anger, fear, defiance, he summoned as much raw power as he could and shredded his binds to fine threads.
He ran towards the stake.
He jumped into the fire.
He felt his skin being scorched by the heat, but his hands kept tugging at the ropes binding his family, hoping to tear them like he had done to his just now. He tried, he tried so hard, but no more magic came. He coughed, hackled, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel anything but a soul-deep pain all over his body, except for his hands that still kept trying to tug at the binds. He felt nothing on his hands. No pain, no sensation, not even the ropes he was tugging at.
His mother tilted her head to him, the first person who had stopped screaming, though by this point, none of them were screaming. He looked at her eyes, and only saw a dead soul.
‘It’s too late,’ she told him. Whether telepathically or verbally or if the words were even real, Stephen couldn’t be sure. ‘Go, my butterfly.’
Stephen cried.
Through anger and grief and bone-searing pain, he ran, and never looked back.
Amidst it all, no one paid attention to the single, barely audible shouts of ‘Stop!’ trying to outscream the roar of the crowd.