𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯

TWO POINT FIVE

IT was a spell that she should have never tried in the summer of 1363, a time where Zelda was still practicing basic magic. A stupid mistake at attempting magic too complex for a witch of her age and one that she'd regret for centuries.

Her hand had been hovering over her beginners' cauldron, a plucked phoenix feather held delicately in her small hands. It was the last ingredient she needed to complete the spell and her tiny hands were shaking in anticipation of what was going to come next. She'd been imagining the look of pride that would gleam in Salazar's eyes, pride in her from the brother she idolized.

Before she could let the feather fall into the cauldron the door to the Spellman estates attic snapped at its hinges and opened with a loud creak. Zelda's eyes widened at the towering frame of her father, a smug Vesta with her hands crossed over her chest grinning evilly at her from next to him.

"Zelda Spellman!" Her father bellowed and Zelda could feel the tears pricking her eyes.

At the scream of their father, the rest of her siblings arrived at the door. Edward who showed up first kept his head down to avoid looking into young Zelda's tear-filled eyes, Della held Edward's hands and avoided anything to do with Vesta and their father. The last one to arrive had been Salazar still dressed in his work clothes, having just come home not too long ago.

Zelda remained frozen from her position, phoenix feather crumpled in her hands and eyes avoiding her fathers, instead of looking at Salazar who glared heatedly at their father and Vesta. Seeing her eyes off him her father bristled and stomped his way over to her the gleam of his metal skull ring reflecting off the lights of the room as his hand raised high.

A small shriek of fear left Zelda's mouth, both arms raising in defence of the sharp intimidating ring. Her wide eyes shut quickly and her body tensed waiting for the moment the hand would come down on her. When the sudden pop was heard Zelda continued to shake yet when there was no pain her tightly shut eyes opened slowly. Something warm splattered on her pale face tiny drops littering her face like delicate freckles.

"Salazar!" It was Edward who yelled for his young brother having not been quick enough to stop him from running forward, a stiff Della refusing to let go of his arm.

Zelda squeaked at the blood-stained Salazar who kneeled in front of her. The right side of his face dripped a fountain of blood, his eye and cheek seemed to swell instantly.

"You're pathetic." Scoffed Salazar a soft slur to his words as he moved to hold Zelda closer to him.

Vesta, most likely in fear of Salazar bit harshly at her nails, eyes dancing between her father and younger brother. Edward had already turned Della away from the offending scene of her blood-covered brother and furious father, speaking softly at her to follow him away from the display.

An older Zelda watched the scene play in her head for what seemed like the millionth time. Hands clenched tight at the battered and bleeding Salazar who, although slurring on his words, held the younger her in his arms as she sobbed heavily. He'd brushed a thumb along her tear-streaked eyes as his own bled black and blue.

It was times like that, where Salazar would care so openly for her, she'd remember even the devil had been good at one point.