[Eda isn't the only one that got woken up. His familiar, left on the little handmade nest pillow Hunter had sewed flies downstairs too and lands on his shoulder. Hunter cups a hand around the cardinal.]
I saw something! Outside!
Some weird person in a cloak and a creepy mask! And-and by the time I got downstairs to get a closer look, they were gone, but there's something in the woods! With glowing eyes! Lots of them.
[He's shaking, hiding behind his aunt. In this life, he never trained as a soldier, had to survive duels, or death hikes down a mountain, or fight in mazes with traps. He never had to join his new friends to fight against abominatons and the monster who raised him. He's going to the school to mostly learn to use his powers but doesn't plan on being a hero someday unless he can't find a way to wiggle out of mandatory military service.]
[He wants to get out on an exception as a scientist maybe.]
[Wants a normal life.]
[Because it's what he's gotten so far. She made sure of it.]
[So he's shaking. And the fear that's consumed him is coming from some dark pit inside himself that shouldn't be there. It doesn't feel like the normal trembling fear of a creepy stranger outside or even seeing some kind of monster like the ones he knows exist in the world because of what happened to his parents.]
[It's deeper. It comes from a deep, dark place, a yawning pit that shouldn't be there. The kind of place that only gets carved out of your soul if you know the kind of fear that comes from having to be scared of the person you should be able to trust the most.]
[Far worse than a child's fear that a monster is in their closet is the far less pretend fear of the monster in the other room. One that doesn't have to claw its way past the door and chase you to get yo. It just has to call you in and make it clear you're going to have a talk about something you've done.]
[And you'll walk in despite knowing the worst might happen because what else can you do? Especially if it's your fault for making it mad.]
[He collapses on the stairs behind his aunt and struggles with the feeling clutching at his chest and strange thoughts that are... they're confused. They're multiple different things at once and none of them make sense.]
[He's not supposed to be here! Reflexive. He can't not think it after seeing those eyes and a hint of too-long limbs. Because the fear is etched into his bones but he doesn't know where the thought comes from or who "he" is.]
[But there's also...]
[He's always here. Less a thought and more a voice. One that's calmer. Sadder. That knows the fear and hollow feeling is unfortunately necessary. That's why it's inflicting it on him. I know it hurts, but you have to accept it to get out of this.]
cw: child abuse
I saw something! Outside!
Some weird person in a cloak and a creepy mask! And-and by the time I got downstairs to get a closer look, they were gone, but there's something in the woods! With glowing eyes! Lots of them.
[He's shaking, hiding behind his aunt. In this life, he never trained as a soldier, had to survive duels, or death hikes down a mountain, or fight in mazes with traps. He never had to join his new friends to fight against abominatons and the monster who raised him. He's going to the school to mostly learn to use his powers but doesn't plan on being a hero someday unless he can't find a way to wiggle out of mandatory military service.]
[He wants to get out on an exception as a scientist maybe.]
[Wants a normal life.]
[Because it's what he's gotten so far. She made sure of it.]
[So he's shaking. And the fear that's consumed him is coming from some dark pit inside himself that shouldn't be there. It doesn't feel like the normal trembling fear of a creepy stranger outside or even seeing some kind of monster like the ones he knows exist in the world because of what happened to his parents.]
[It's deeper. It comes from a deep, dark place, a yawning pit that shouldn't be there. The kind of place that only gets carved out of your soul if you know the kind of fear that comes from having to be scared of the person you should be able to trust the most.]
[Far worse than a child's fear that a monster is in their closet is the far less pretend fear of the monster in the other room. One that doesn't have to claw its way past the door and chase you to get yo. It just has to call you in and make it clear you're going to have a talk about something you've done.]
[And you'll walk in despite knowing the worst might happen because what else can you do? Especially if it's your fault for making it mad.]
[He collapses on the stairs behind his aunt and struggles with the feeling clutching at his chest and strange thoughts that are... they're confused. They're multiple different things at once and none of them make sense.]
[He's not supposed to be here! Reflexive. He can't not think it after seeing those eyes and a hint of too-long limbs. Because the fear is etched into his bones but he doesn't know where the thought comes from or who "he" is.]
[But there's also...]
[He's always here. Less a thought and more a voice. One that's calmer. Sadder. That knows the fear and hollow feeling is unfortunately necessary. That's why it's inflicting it on him. I know it hurts, but you have to accept it to get out of this.]