Chapter Text
The forest is calm and peaceful. The gentle singing of the birds rings out over the wind in the vibrant orange and red leaves. Your hat threatens to be dragged away by the breeze, so you reach up and hold it. The swirling dark purple and blues are splattered in glittering stars that glisten in the light. It had been your mom's once upon a time, and now it was yours.
Maybe it was a bit old school and stereotypical, but you truly enjoyed the original witch-like fashion. Witches didn't usually wear the obviously witch styled clothing much anymore. It stood out too much and drew unwanted attention. That's why you'd only wear things like this in your home forest. If you ever had to go into town or the city, you'd wear the modern era clothing of the age group you looked to fit into.
You tried to limit your visits to the cities. The suffocating cars and crowds would be enough to limit your visits, but the general attitude of most individuals really solidified your choice. Much time had passed since the olden witch trials. But that didn't mean things were better. No, you could argue it was worse now.
The forest was much more like what you wanted. The clean fresh air, the tranquility, the ability to be yourself and practice your magic was just too much to pass up. Sure your parents had traded in their spellbooks and potions for simple human city going lives, but that wasn't what you wanted. There was still so much to learn and do.
You had a little cottage for yourself in the middle of the woods, set right along a small river. Protective spells surrounded your home and the forest in the close vicinity. Lost travelers and explorers would simply be turned around in the trees and be unable to get near your home. It wasn't completely foolproof, and there had been instances of people or Hunters getting close to your home.
The simple game hunters were easy to bewitch and turn away. They were sent off thinking they had simply lost the trail of their quarry. That was easy and harmless. The Hunters however were not so easily swayed.
In the more recent times, it had come to the general population's awareness that mystical beings were actually real. Witches, Vampires, Werewolves, etc. In nearly the same time period, advances in technology brought about sentient AI creations. These sentient AIs were quickly taken and repurposed into Hunters, beings with the sole purpose of tracking down and killing any nonhuman entities.
Classic humans. They find something other, that they don't understand, and the first response is to snuff it out. They can't even be bothered to do it themselves. Instead they create something else nonhuman to do it for them.
You can't completely blame them for their fear however. There are many groups that only seek out to kill and slaughter humans. These groups were emboldened by the futility of remaining hidden. There was no reason to take caution to avoid detection anymore, not when the world is already aware of your existence.
You remember the first few months after the news broke that your kind and others like you were real. Everything slowly devolved as there was a stretch of time that everyone was trying to confirm for certain this was all true. But it didn't take long for people to be convinced. It was all solidified when the slaughters happened.
These radical groups all launched major attacks. Some small towns were completely wiped out in only a few days. The number of people killed skyrocketed, and everyone became paranoid of one another. Those days had been horrible, you had been very little at the time. Your parents kept you in the cottage or the immediate forest around it, none of you left the area for a long time. Your mama had spent countless days reinforcing the spells protecting your home to avoid anyone from snooping around.
Things have settled back into a new sense of normal now. The Hunters were deployed shortly after those attacks, and the most hostile of the groups were eliminated or whittled down. Now Hunters roam from town to town, picking up leads and jobs to track down mythical creatures. The towns are relatively safe. Cities continue on as they had before, with slight differences to protect their citizens.
The pattering of paws through the grass makes you turn. The jet black fluff that parts the weeds scuttles past you and ahead toward the cottage. You smirk, watching her pause and turn to look at you with her bright amber eyes.
Pen, your little feline companion. Not a familiar, just a stray cat that had wandered into your forest a few years ago. She was just a kitten at the time, tiny and scruffy. You had to keep her, she just fit too well. The forest witch and her black cat, it was meant to be. Not that you could have gotten rid of her, she was always under your feet and showing up when you least expected it.
She cried loudly at you, tail flicking impatiently. "I'm coming, I'm coming." You sigh with a smirk. Pen was loud and very sassy. She turned and looked down the hill you were cresting. You could see the smoke from your cottage rising above the trees as you returned from your trip to check on all your safety wards. The sound of the small river was getting louder.
Pen looked at you and meowed at you again with her ears pinned backward. Her fur was bristled slightly and she shifted on her paws anxiously. "What is it, pretty girl?" You coo worriedly. Something had her spooked. When you reach her, she darts away, away from the river and out of sight.
You shuffle, about to go after her when something else catches your attention. Half buried in the mud of the river bank is something unusual. Yellow and orange peeks through the dull browns. The reeds sway in the breeze, partly hiding whatever it is from view. You spring into action, nearly tripping over your feet to get down the hill faster.
Your hat flies from your head and lands in the bushes somewhere behind you. You'll find it later. You drop down into the mud, freezing river water soaking into your pants and mud seeping into your shoes. Your hands push mud and muck from the river off, trying to figure out exactly what it is you're looking at.
Something sharp cuts across your palm in your haste, and you recoil with a hiss. Red blooms and drips down your palm. You grimace, flicking your hand to alleviate the burning sting. It's not serious, and can be dealt with after.
The cold feel of metal meets your fingertips as you begin freeing them from where the river had begun to bury them. An automaton, a Hunter most likely. The frown on your face deepens, but you keep going.
They are covered in scrapes and gouges, sharp metal sticking out and nicking your fingers several more times, even with your extra care after the first cut. You uncover enough to see them better, their chest cavity is torn open. Various pieces within are clearly damaged. And yet, you can still feel a pulse of energy, faint and weak, but still alive.
"Oh shit. Stars above you're still alive." You huff, fingers digging beneath their arms, "I've got you. It's gonna be okay." You heft them upward and haul them away from the water. You have no choice but to drag them across the ground. They are too heavy to carry properly, and you don't have time to try and cast a spell to make it easier.
The front door to your cottage isn't far. The way they were stuck suggested they had attempted to drag themselves out of the water. They had been conscious not long ago, if only partially. There was hope you could still help them.
It may seem counterintuitive to be assisting the very creation made to hunt you down and destroy you, but they had come ashore only feet from your home. Surely that had to be a sign you were supposed to help them. They'd done nothing against you personally, and if you found out they were malicious and dangerous, you would take care of them.
You wouldn't stoop to the human’s level of treating all individuals based on the worst reputation of a group without attempting to find out for certain. Guilty until proven innocent wasn't a fair way to judge people. Not only that, but you had seen enough of the cities to know they were not on equal footing with humans. You'd seen how humans treated automatons as things to be used. Humanity, what a joke. They can't even be kind to their own creations that solely exist to protect them.
You grunt and struggle to get them through the doorway. They are lanky and awkward, bigger than yourself by a decent margin. Dirt drags across your floor as you bring them to the kitchen and gently lay them out across the floor. There was no way you'd get them up and onto the couch, not to mention they likely wouldn't fit length wise.
Cabinet doors creak and groan as you hurriedly dig through your supplies. You gather a large mixing bowl and a smaller bowl and fill them both with water. The water sloshes as you hurriedly set them both down near the poor things head. Glass clinks when your shaky fingers shuffle through your emergency ampoules of concentrated potions. You can't feel your fingertips, they are frozen and coated in blood and dirt, the vague feeling of it caked under your nails is disgusting. Lastly you grab a fistful of cloths and slide down to the beings side.
You break the ampoules and drip two drops of a concentrated regenerative potion into the smaller bowl of water. That needs a second to dilute and dissolve into the water. You take one of the cloths and dip it into the large bowl. The water instantly colors brown from the dirt of your own fingers. You wring out the cloth slightly and begin cleaning mud from their body to try and expose the worst of the damage.
The yellow and cream metal shines when uncovered. There are several small cuts that don't seem to completely cut through the metal panels. They look like claw marks, maybe even some fang-like punctures. Werewolves most likely.
The worst is their torn open main chest cavity. The metal is ripped and bent. Whatever had attacked them had tried very hard to kill them. You don't know much about fixing technology, but hopefully your magic can help bridge the gap. With the smaller bowl now filled with a more diluted solution, you soak a clean rag in it.
You rinse the large bowl and continue clearing mud away from the problem area. A shudder runs through them when your hand dips farther into the cavity to try and clear out some of the water and muck. You slow down, wanting to ensure you're not causing more harm.
"I'm sorry. I don't know if you're aware enough to hear me, but I'm helping you. You're going to be okay." You try and soothe. You can see the electricity of their core pulse and flicker. This is urgent, hopefully your plan will work here.
Your fingers tremble as you grab the cloth that has been soaking. You wring it out so it's not dripping with liquid. The gash on your palm stings and itches as the potion soaks into your skin. The regenerative properties begin working to stitch your wound closed.
You shake the excess liquid from your hand and gently begin tucking the cloth in close to their core. The glow bleeds through the cloth, you watch patiently, gently adjusting the cloth to cover its entirety. The flickering ebbs, the pulses steady. You can feel the life within begin to stabilize.
"Alright, that's a good start." You sigh in relief. Taking another cloth, you place that one to soak in the liquid. You want to be prepared to switch them out when the first one inevitably loses potency. Maybe you can get the worst of the injury healed first and won't have to worry about switching them out.
You stand on shaky legs and run up the stairs to grab your spell book. This also had been passed down to you, your mama had been highly skilled with spells and meticulously recorded everything there. You nearly slip back down the stairs with how much mud is covering the soles of your shoes. You'll have to deal with quite a mess later.
The pages turn and flutter as you hurriedly find a certain spell in particular. A restorative spell that you often used to repair damage to your home. Your parents had built the home many years ago, and the elements did not hold back on aging it. You search for that one because you doubt a normal healing spell will work properly on metal components. You were honestly lucky the regenerative potion worked for their core, although you doubted it was working as strongly as it should
Finally your fingers stop at the page you were looking for. You read over the spell again, even though you'd recited it many times before, you wanted to be absolutely sure you wouldn't mess it up. Taking a deep breath you place one hand over the twisted metal.
You start the spell and immediately feel a familiar pull of energy. Metal creaks and electricity crackles. A soft hissing noise reaches your ears. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." You breathe, taking a second to compose yourself. That little bit had taken much more energy than you had thought.
When you focus back on the hole, you find the metal itself hasn't moved much, but the wiring and mechanisms beneath look better. Gathering what energy you have left to spare, you start the spell again.
You don't manage to hold out much longer. You feel like you had just attempted swimming upstream with rocks in your pockets. Exhaustion doesn't quite cover what you feel. It's like an emptiness and coldness deep within. That's how you know you can't do anymore magic, not without risking your own health.
You sit there for a second, watching to see if anything changes. Hunters were meant to be magic resistant after all. That's likely why it took so much energy to do minimal repair. You are surprised it had worked at all. Your spellbook thumps heavily on the counter top.
You reach for the cloth you had left soaking. Wringing that one out, you replace the other one just to be safe. Their core certainly looks better. With how drained you are, it's much harder to feel it. All of your senses are slightly numb.
A long drawn out meow makes you look up toward the door. Pen stands there, staring suspiciously at your guest laying on the floor. Your fingers grip the cool stone of the island and you pull yourself up. You remember your hat had fallen off somewhere outside, you should go get that.
"Come on Pen." You coo, walking out the door past her. She follows dutifully behind you as you walk along the path, back the way you had come from. Your steps are uneven, moving almost drunkenly as you can’t quite feel your toes.
It doesn't take long to locate your fallen hat as the dark fabric sticks out like a sore thumb. You pick it up and brush off the leaves that had collected on it, shaking out the ones that had gathered on the inside.
You replace your hat and head back to the cottage. You don't want to leave your guest unattended. Pen slows down as you approach the door, wary about heading inside. Out of habit, you reach down and scoop her up. She yowls in displeasure and wriggles in your arms as you carry her inside. She jumps from your arms the second you step through the door and scurries upstairs.
You look at your surprise guest and then around the living area. You're not sure you have the energy to move them, you know for sure you wouldn't be able to lift them onto the couch. You could grab some blankets or something so they're not just laying on the floor.
You nod to yourself and head upstairs to gather some spare blankets. You find Pen laying under your bed, hiding away from you when you reach for the blankets down there with her. "I'm not dragging you downstairs silly. But It's going to get cold outside, so you're staying in here."
You take your haul downstairs. First you lay out a blanket and maneuver the Hunter so they're on it. It takes some shifting, and it isn't the neatest, but it works. You take a thinner blanket and fold it over more and lift their head to lay it underneath. There's a flicker of light in their eyes and a spit of static, but they remain limp.
You sit back on your heels and look them over. They look only vaguely humanoid, and that may even be a stretch. The first main separating factor is the orange triangular protrusions in a sort of halo around their entire head. One of the triangles is broken, and several have puncture marks and are bent.
Their face is rather flat, split in uneven halves that when you sit back and take in the appearance of their head as a whole, seems to look like a crescent moon, which would make them a caricature of the sun. That makes sense with the overall yellow coloring.
What's left of their attire is torn and filthy, but you can clearly tell they are a Hunter. Long black pants, accented with red and gold. Several of the pockets are ripped out, but you can tell the remaining ones still have items within. They also have a tool belt which is in the same state as the pants.
You debate checking to see what they have on them, but decide against it. Even if they had specific items to combat you, they would be far too weak to use any of them. They would have to get a whole lot better very quickly if there was even a chance of them hurting you.
Unless you fell asleep right beside them, you thought as you caught yourself dozing.
You'd done what you could for their injuries. There wasn't anything you could do about their clothes. They were as comfortable as you could get them. Now, where were you going to sit and watch over them?
You stood up slowly, swaying as you did. Thankfully the open concept living room and kitchen meant you could just turn the couch around and lay down. You'd be able to watch them from there. It would give you and them space, but keep you nearby just in case something happened.
Following through with this idea was a bit harder than you thought. The couch seemed to double in size when you started to push and turn it around. Sweating and huffing and panting, you flopped down once it was turned enough. It faced the front door more than the kitchen, but that was close enough.
You turned over to lay on your back, kicking off your shoes. The plush cushions beckon you to rest, and you give in. You rest your hat over your eyes. The cushions dip and you lift the brim of the hat with a finger. Pen purrs at you and bunts her head into your chin as she clambers up onto your chest. She must not have been able to resist sleepy snuggles. You chuckle and scoop her into your arms to hold her securely. Her warm weight helps settle you to sleep.
It isn't long after that you are awoken. Pen uses you as a springboard, jumping off your chest and scurrying upstairs with a yowl. You grunt and bolt upward, you hat flinging to the ground. "Pen!" You grumble, scrubbing at your eyes.
You open them and freeze, meeting the dull blue glow of the Hunter. They are clutching the island, hunched over it. Their head barely peers over the corner of the counter top, staring directly at you. They are also frozen in place. You watch their eyes dart around, searching over the open space of your kitchen and living room.
"Easy, it's alright. You're okay." You speak up softly.
Their eyes dart back to you, scrutinizing, before glancing around again. You can tell the second they see the hearth, the large cauldron, and then your spellbook sitting before them and it all seems to fall into place for them, "You're a witch." They speak up, voice filtered through static. They sound male. He shuffles and tenses, probably realizing he has very little to defend himself with.
"I am, but you're safe here." You confirm gently, raising your palms out placatingly.
His eyes snap to your palm, "You've bound us in a blood covenant?!" He shrieks in clear distress. The rays around his head stutter and snap inward.
"No? What?" You stutter in confusion, looking at your palm and seeing the scabbed over cut from when you had been digging him out, "No! No that's not- Gross, making a blood covenant with someone unconscious is just disgusting." You huff and stumbled over your words, "I cut my palm while I was digging you out of the mud. How much do you remember?"
"I remember enough." He growls, pressing his hand into the island and struggling to stand. His body shudders and he drops back to the floor. You can hear static hissing and grumbling.
"Stop that. You'll injure yourself further." You call out, patience running thin. Slowly, you stand up from the couch and walk over, peering around the island. He's laying in a heap on the floor.
He jolts when he sees you've come closer. You take a step back and sit down near the door. You don't intentionally put yourself in the way of the obvious escape, but at least you know you'll have a chance of stopping him if he tries running out.
"What do you want from me?" He mumbles.
You cross your legs and try to appear as non threatening as possible. "I just want to help you."
"Why?" He scoffs, clearly not trusting you at your word. He shuffles, limbs twitching as he attempts to at least right himself. His movements are spastic and clumsy.
"You washed up at my doorstep. Seems like a pretty clear sign I'm supposed to help you. Mama always told me not to look away when the universe calls out... or else it’ll ignore your pleas when you call to it." You speak honestly.
"I was built to hunt down things like you." He growls.
You can't help but tense when he calls you a thing, the glare that naturally comes to your face is equally hard to clear away. "That's kinda rude. I saved your life." You point out.
"Because you want something from me. Weaknesses? Information? Whatever you want, you won't get it." He grumbles, looking back down at his chest. Static spits from him as he gingerly begins prodding at the area.
"You're welcome to leave whenever." You offer, gesturing to the door, "So long as you can actually walk out the door without collapsing within sight of my doorstep."
"What kind of deal is that?" He snarls.
"It's not a deal." You huff, "I'm a witch not a fae. If you're well enough to take care of yourself, you can go. But if you can't even get a few feet from my doorstep, then I can't in good conscience just let you wander the woods alone."
He just stares at you. Clearly this is not how he thought you would act. You can't help but wonder if he'd even dealt with witches before. Surely he has, with how long the Hunters have been around, he's had to have come across a little of everything.
"Besides, you look like you were ambushed by a pack of werewolves. They might still be prowling around here looking for you. You're not in any condition to be fighting them off." You sigh.
He just stares at you, the lights of his eyes looking you over and glancing toward the door behind you. He doesn't move much, but what motions he does make are still jarring and twitchy. The diluted potion bowl still sits on the island with a few cloths next to it.
"How are you feeling?" You prod, seeing as you're at a bit of a stalemate. You watch his hands move. He probably meant the motion to be subtle as he pats over his pockets to see what he has on him, but with the damage that he's taken, it's very obvious to you.
It seems he doesn't have anything he thinks would be useful as he slumps in defeat. Slowly, you push yourself to your feet. He jolts at your motion and shuffles backwards. You make sure to keep all your movements obvious and as visible as you can for him as you reach out and take the bowl and cloths.
"I don't know much about automatons. But I want to help you." You insist. "I performed a repair spell on you and gave you a diluted regenerative potion to your core."
He looks down at the damage, and then the damp cloth on the floor that he had likely tossed away the second he woke up. The blankets you had left with him were a mess and all shifted to the side. You can see him looking it all over before looking back up at you. "I still don't understand." He huffs.
"Well, you don't have to understand." You shrug. "I just want you to be okay enough to leave. I can help you to the couch if that’d be more comfortable."
"No. I can do it myself." He hisses, grabbing the counter again and lifting himself up. You can hear the strain of machinery and noise of static as he stands. He's back in the same position you woke to find him in, leaning against the counter.
"Independence is one thing, stupidity is another." You grumble, "Let me help you before you injure yourself further, please."
He leans there staring at you for a long moment. Glancing down at the counter he sighs loudly, static filtering through the noise. "Fine. But if you try anything." His threat peters out when he realizes he has no real threat value.
You roll your eyes and slowly approach him, setting the bowl into the sink to deal with later. He watches your every move. As gently as you can, you grab his arm and shift his weight to yourself. You don't know what exactly made you think you’d be able to do this, you knew you were still exhausted.
He may not be dead weight anymore, but he's still heavy. He lurches as you nearly crumple under his weight, but you keep your footing and slowly start to head to the couch. He kept a hand on the counter, offsetting some of his weight from you.
"How did you get me inside?" He huffs, seeing how much difficulty you're having right now.
"I wasn't completely exhausted when I found you." You defend yourself, "I used all my energy healing you."
It takes longer than it should have, but you get him to the couch. You set him down and he sits, sinking into the cushions. He certainly looks more comfortable, aside from the hole in his chest. You kneel in front of him, keeping to the side a bit.
"You haven't answered me. How are you feeling? And is there anything else I can do to help you?" You repeat yourself. "I have more potions that can help stabilize your core. But I don't think I can perform another spell yet. I may have some tools around that you could use." You offer up some options.
"You’re very persistent." He remarks. You're not sure if that's meant to be a compliment or an insult. "I don’t want you doing any more magic, especially not on me."
"Alright." You sigh. You stand and walk to the kitchen. Now that you're awake you want a snack. You scrounge through the cupboards for a treat, feeling eyes burning into your every movement. This gives him a moment to think about your offers.
The second you open the lower cupboard and it creaks, you hear the patter of pawsteps and Pen comes bounding up onto the island. She immediately began yowling, demanding her own treats. That was on you for opening the cupboard.
"Pen. It's not snack time." You huff, glancing at her. She's pacing back and forth across the island, before she steps back and wiggles, launching herself the short distance to the counter to shove her face in your own.
"Alright alright, yeesh. Little mooch." You huff dramatically with a smile. You grab the treat bag and dig a couple out, setting them on the counter. You scritch her ears as she inhales the little morsels.
"Your familiar?" A wary voice speaks up from behind you.
You jump, having momentarily forgotten your company. You turn to face him, leaning back against the counter as Pen purrs and rubs against your shoulder and elbow. "No. Pen is just a regular house cat."
"Regular house cat? It's a black cat, and you're a witch." He deadpans.
"Not all witches have familiars." You respond with a wave of your hand, "And even the ones that do don't all have cats. Cats are stereotypical, especially black cats. I think that's why Pen here got dumped in the woods in the first place."
"What other kinds of familiars do you take?" He asked curiously.
You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it, giving him a look. "Now who's digging for information and weaknesses."
"It's a legitimate question." He scoffs.
"Legitimate maybe, ask me again when you're being genuine." You roll your eyes and head past the stairs and into the potion room. You have to walk through there to get to storage, digging through the shelves you find the tool box that you hardly ever use. You want a distraction so he's not so focused on you for a moment, not to mention he could probably make use of the items.
You lug it back out to the living room and plop it down with a thump in front of your guest. "You can use any of the tools I have here. If you need anything else, just ask and I'll see if I have it." Before he can say anything you walk away. You don't go far, just moving into the kitchen to make yourself something to eat since you had gotten distracted before.
The soft creak of metal alerts you that he finally opened the toolbox. You can hear metallic clings and shuffling as he searches around. You stall to give him more time before you intrude. You can't help but wonder just how vulnerable he feels right now, completely exposed and at your mercy.
"Is there anything you need?" You question, leaning against the island to face him. You want to give him space, but can't help but feel obligated to offer assistance. You have a feeling he won't ask for things unless you prompt him.
There's silence for a moment before you hear a deep sigh, "Do you happen to have spare wire?" He looks up at you with wire cutters in hand.
"I've probably got something." You muse, stuffing food into your mouth before walking back into your storage area. You rummage around through the shelves, snagging any stray wires and cords you can find. You had a habit of keeping all the spare and old cords that go with various appliances. It was going to come in handy today.
You walk back out and plop all the wires onto the couch next to him, "Help yourself to any of those that could be useful."
He stares at the half neatly bundled and half snarled mess of cords before looking back up at you. You stand behind the island again, munching away on your snack. Pen jumps to the floor and slowly stalks around the island. You watch her approach Sun, hesitant and wary.
"Why do you have electrical wires if you have magic? Why do you have any of this?" He asks in confusion. When he he looks up to you, you see the way his eyes catch on Pen moving closer to him. She freezes the second he looks at her.
"Tv." You point behind him, "Microwave, toaster... other electrical things." You point out some of the items in the room that are currently plugged into outlets.
"But why do you have these things if you have magic?" He questions in confusion, sounding mildly frustrated. His sudden move startles Pen and you see the blur of fluff dart back up the stairs.
"Quality of life." You shrug, "These things work differently than magic. I could mimic their uses, but it wouldn't be the same. That and it would use energy that I could use for something else, like saving your life."
He stares at you for a long moment and you stare back. You take another bite of your food, eyebrows raising the longer he stares.
"Thank you for these." He huffs reluctantly.
"You're welcome." You smirk at him. You lean against the counter as he begins clipping and measuring the wires.
He works efficiently, moving from section to section. He twitches anytime he has to cut an internal wire of his own. He wraps the wires with some of the insulation he had stripped from another cord, taping it in place.
He pauses for a moment, fingers hovering and twitchy over the gaping hole. "That should be good for now." He sighs. He looks up and freezes when he sees you watching him still. He looks better, but he's still far from okay.
You don't know enough about them to know if he's still in need of urgent repairs, or if he will be alright for a while. You'd much rather be overly cautious, but what more can you do? You don't have the energy to attempt to get him back to the city. "You mind telling me your name?" You ask.
"Sun. My name is Sun." He speaks as he watches you walk around to sit on the floor in front of the couch.
"It's nice to meet you Sun, I wish it was under better circumstances." You answer after giving him your own name.
"I need to go. My partner will be looking for me." He huffs, attempting to stand on his own again. He hisses static and shakily sits back down.
"Partner?" You question with a tilt of your head. That could be useful, they would know more about Sun's condition. They could also manage to get Sun the help he needs, as long as they're not injured as well.
"We were tracking a pack of werewolves together when I got ambushed. I have no doubt he'll find this place, he's the best tracker I know." Sun stares at you with a sharp look.
You aren't entirely sure what to make of what he's suddenly telling you. Is he attempting to warn you? Or is he still thinking you're lying to him and trying to convey that there's no point in trying to keep him captive?
"You were carried downstream. If he follows the river it won't take him long." You agree with a nod. There isn't much more you can do for Sun. He won't willingly take your magical help, not that you have the energy for spells anyway. You could offer him potions again, but you already know that will be useless. You've already given him what you have for tools and such. His partner is the best option now.
"I'll be back." You huff as you force yourself to stand and walk out your front door. Maybe you can find Sun's partner first and explain things. Then he can be on his way to getting the help he needs.
The moon was nearly full overhead, starting to wane ever so slightly. The wind was sharp and biting. Maybe coming out here was a terrible idea, you were in no shape to be defending yourself.
Stars twinkle overhead as you carefully follow the river upstream. Why had you thought this was a good idea? Coming out into the night when you know there is an angry Hunter prowling around?
The snap of a twig is the only warning you get before you are bodily thrown to the ground and pinned in place. The wind is knocked from you and you lay there dazed and startled. The dark makes it hard to see as your head spins.
The figure above you growls, leering down into your space. "Where is he?" He demands.
"You must be the partner." You wheeze.
"Where. Is. He?" He snarls sharply, you become aware of the blade against your throat as the sharp edge presses slightly into your skin.
"He's safe. I promise. I can show you." You manage to breathe shakily.
The knife is pulled away, but you are grabbed and hauled upward. Your feet fail you and your attacker has to hold you up as you scramble for balance. Your hands reach up to rub at your neck, feeling the slight warmth of blood beading at the surface of a superficial cut.
"Walk." He hisses. You hear the sound of a gun cocking. "Try anything funny and you won't get another chance."
He holds one of your arms in a tight grip, keeping you faced away from him. You lead the way with him urging you onward. "He's injured quite badly. I did what I could to help him." You speak up to try and ease some of the tension.
You feel the cold metal of the gun none too gently knock into the back of your head and hiss at the jolt. He shoves you forward faster, "I'll believe it when I see it witch." He growls.
Thankfully you weren't too far from home. The lights from the windows shine through the trees ahead. Your arm pulls when he pauses at the sight of your cottage. "He's inside. Safe." You assure him.
He just grumbles and pushes you ahead. You can feel the grip he has on your arm tighten as he approaches the door. The cold feel of metal at your head reminds you that he's a twitch away from killing you. You push open the door and step inside first.
The second he sees his partner you are thrown to the ground, tossed aside so he can hurry forward and check on his companion. "Sun! Are you alright?" He is quick to assess the other.
"I'm fine. I'm alright, Moon." Sun reassures him, grabbing his hands to stop his frantic movements.
"I saw that thing tackle you to the ground, and then you both went into the water," Moon speaks worriedly, rambling slightly.
You huff and push yourself to sit up. Your head throbs from all the abuse it's received in the last few hours. Sun’s partner, Moon, looks like you should have expected. His coloring is similar to Sun’s in the way that Sun is split colored, but Moon is a soft gray and deep blue. He doesn’t have rays around his face, instead there's a stocking cap of sorts draped over his shoulder. The cap is the same blue as his accent colors, but had yellow stars across it.
He wears classic Hunter attire: dark overcoat, dark pants, and countless pockets. His clothing is accented in gray and deep blue. His clothing also appears torn and dirty, but he still has his weapons with him.
"It caught me by surprise and took us both into the water. I managed to get it off, but the current was too strong and swept me farther downstream." Sun explains, his grip shifts to Moon's wrist when he moves to turn around, "The witch here saved me."
"What?" The disbelief and disgust in Moon's voice make you cringe. His head turns to glare at you, and you stay seated on the floor. That’s when his name makes sense, the split in his face that you had noticed with Sun is much clearer on his partner. His eyes however are much more vibrant, the red color bleeds across his face, illuminating his features with the brightness despite the already well lit room.
"I did. He was half buried in the mud, so I brought him in here and did what I could to keep him alive." You answered honestly.
"I owe them Moon." Sun sighs.
"You don't owe it anything." Moon hisses, still glaring at you. "It was just going to use you." He tugs on his arm to try and swing his gun around to point at you, but Sun holds firm.
"They got me tools to use to try and fix myself up. They didn't have to do that." Sun explains, gesturing to the toolbox still sitting at his feet.
"You still need repairs, urgently." Moon grumbles when he looks back at the gaping opening in Sun's chest.
"Then let's go. Call it even for now. A life for a life." Sun suggests.
The silence stretches for a painful moment. You debate trying to reach for your spellbook that still sits on the island. It's just barely out of arm's reach, and the movement would not be stealthy. You don't want to attack the duo, but you're not keen on letting them decide your fate without any input yourself.
"Fine." Moon snarls reluctantly. He spins on his heel and marches toward you, easily looming over you. "But if you get in our way, or we hear about a witch causing problems in the area. We will be back and I won't hesitate to finish this."
He steps backward toward Sun and gingerly hauls him upward, easily holding his weight. It's a sharp contrast to just how harshly he is acting toward you. Sun hisses static as he is moved, struggling to attempt to hold his own.
There's a final glance, burning red eyelights shine with their dark promise. Moon storms out your door. You watch them go as your door swings on its hinges.
Only once you're sure the duo is long gone do you stand. Your body aches, protesting the movement. You close your door and lock it, shuddering slightly at the thought of what could have happened.
You'll need to be more careful. You don't doubt what Moon had said. But that wouldn't stop you from continuing with your life, you would still go out and help those that you could. There were people out there that could benefit from your talents and magic.
Hunters had come around before, and that hadn't stopped you then either.
You took a breath to steady yourself and shuffled around to turn out the lights. You headed to bed that night, unable to fall asleep for a long while.