Reprogrammed (Hunter Angst)

Primavera

Being off of his medication helped him to actually feel his emotions, rather than pass them off as numb thoughts sloughing off his brain. However, the absence of medication also made him feel all of his emotions to the fullest extent. This ensured that his fear, anger, and paranoia had a hearty place in the forefront of his attention.

The party guests had left, he and Darius cleaned up, and eventually bid each other goodnight. Hunter knew that he was in for a night to remember as soon as his eyes slid shut and his body stilled under the covers.

Hunter didn't really "dream", per se. When he did sleep, it was a tumultuous and rabid event; filled with swirling memories and horrible nightmares. Every once in a great while, when he was especially lucky, his brain would send him toppling headfirst into a memory much less vicious than most. This night was one such occasion, if only just.

He was 13, and it was late spring. Pollen spun and wove through a warm breeze, spreading across the isles; seeding the lands. Flowers bloomed, popping up from the thawing ground. It was Hunter's favorite time of year.

Outside of his window, he could hear the Bards of the Emperor's coven practicing their spellcasting. It sounded like a holy choir, reverberating through the grass, the trees, and into the open windows of the castle. Hunter smiled, breathing deeply to enjoy the sweet scent of the season.

The sun had just finished rising, and there was a lot to do. No time for lollygagging, not with all of his duties. Being the Emperor's right hand man was a lot of work, and the teenager loved every second of it. Any time that Belos was happy, Hunter was happy.

That was the thing he wanted the most, for his Uncle to be happy. He loved his Uncle, would do anything for his Uncle. That was his purpose.

He and the other Coven Scouts trained all morning in the hot sun. His uniform was hot, his passion to improve was hotter. He was going to be the greatest Golden Guard anyone had ever seen. This was also his purpose, the reason he was born.

The afternoon came soon, and with it, clouds began to dot the horizon. By tea time, the sky was patterned with fluffy white clouds. Hunter was on a surveillance mission with the other scouts, out and looking for wild witches in one of the towns close to the castle. Hunter was especially vigorous in his search, just itching to bring a traitor to the Emperor.

Belos would be so happy with him if he could prove his loyalty to the Titan.

In what seemed to be a tremendous stroke of luck, he did manage to catch someone who was stealing, and they didn't have a coven sigil on their arm. They thrashed in his tight hold as he cuffed them, and prepared the both of them to go to the castle.

He marched the offending wild witch into the castle, and immediately put them into the custody of the warden, who would hold the illegal magic user until it was time for their trial. With pride in his step, he marched to the throne room to inform his Uncle of his actions.

His Uncle was very pleased, ruffling Hunter's short, soft hair.

"Congratulations on capturing yet another wild witch, my dear nephew. You are continually proving to the titan that you are a worthy soldier."

Hunter nodded excitedly at the praise, smiling bright. Belos smiled down at him, his usual daunting mask set to the side as they both enjoyed the privacy of the room.

Hunter always did his best not to stare at his Uncle's curse. Somehow, the Emperor always knew when Hunter was looking at it. Making eye contact made him anxious, so the boy opted to stare at his uncle's forehead.

"Walk with me, Golden Guard." Belos suddenly prompted, fitting his usual mask back onto his face momentarily as they exited the dark room.

Despite the looming clouds, it was still incredibly beautiful out. Belos led them to one of his favorite courtyards within the castle, and when they reached the secluded place, Belos removed his mask once more.

It was almost like he was two different people, one with the mask and the other without. When he wore the daunting gold faceplate, the Emperor was an all-powerful ruler, destined to save the Isles from dark magic and evil-doing witches.

When his curse was visible and Hunter could see the sunlight casting rays onto his face, Belos was just... his Uncle. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.

"You know that we all come from the Titan, correct?" Belos started the conversation.

"Mmm! The Titan gives us life, and we must repay that favor by following the Titan's wishes!"

"That is correct, Hunter. The Titan created your body from the nutrients of other bodies. When the animals, plants, and witches of this island die, the lifeforce of their bodies are passed on, to be used by other creatures. The Titan sees fit that each creature eventually passes on their lifeforce so that others may use it."

"So I'm... made from other living things?" Hunter was a bit confused.

"That is correct, Hunter. When you die, the resources that your body harbors will be used by the Titan to create new life."

Death was something that made Hunter uncomfortable, but only just. Mostly, it was the death of others that saddened him.  The boy had been in the Emperor's coven for long enough that he'd had too many near death experiences to count. He took pride in surviving each ordeal.

"Do you understand, nephew?" Belos prompted, knocking Hunter out of his thoughts.

"Yes, Emperor Belos. When I die, my body will be used by the Titan to make new life."

"Good. Now, tell me, Hunter, if I ever needed to use your body to sustain my life, would you grant me that ability?"

Why would Belos ever need to use my body? Hunter thought, scratching at his hair. He was the most powerful ruler in all the land, how could Hunter's little body serve him? "Yes, Uncle, of course you could use my life to help yours!"

"This is what is so important about you, Hunter. You've always been so willing to help me, and the Titan. I know that we can do great things together, you and I."

It was a strange conversation, but Uncle was very pleased regardless. As a 13 year old, Hunter just wanted to make the Emperor, the Titan, his fellow scouts, and anybody else in the Coven happy. It was a purpose that required a lot of effort, but it was a purpose nonetheless.

When he peeled his eyes open at 3am, locked back into a scarred and achy 16 year old body, he took several minutes to contemplate the dream and what it meant. There was something oddly beautiful about Belos's words. Without the fear of his own death dogging at his heels like it did for so many others, he was able to appreciate the awe of his body being used for greater purpose.

At the age of 13, Hunter was so sure that his purpose was to serve the Titan and protect the Emperor. It was the driving force of his entire life until not so long ago. Now... What was his purpose?

When he eventually would die, bugs would eat through his body, bacteria would feast on his cells, small animals might even enjoy a nibble on his fingers; maybe the tip of his nose. Hunter supposed that, despite the macabre subject, dying did serve a purpose.

Life was certainly dizzying when he didn't have shoes to fill. He had spent so much time after the end of the Collector's reign just... rotting away. Rotting in a bed, rotting in a desk, rotting in a hospital, rotting in Darius's armchair. And yet still, all of this metaphysical rotting still left him with a (mostly) intact body. No other organisms had benefited from all of this emotional decomposition.

When he closed his eyes, he was back in that courtyard, at the age of 13, sitting with his Uncle in the grass. The soft blades crisscrossed between his fingers. Little bugs, newly hatched from the ground after a long winter of being buried in the frozen ground, crawled over his boots. His Uncle had a warm, strong hand on Hunter's little shoulder.

The shade of the tree protected them from the warm spring sun. Blooming blossoms cascaded downwards from the branches as the tree prepared itself for another hot summer. The bard scouts could be heard singing from far away, the song still etched in his memory. In that moment, everything had a place, a purpose, a meaning .

Now, in the pitch darkness of his room, nothing had meaning or reason. Hunter needed purpose in his life, that much was certain. Perhaps, if he let it be, death was purpose enough.