[hider=Gideon Flashback][color=lightgray][CENTER][color=red][h1]FLASHBACK[/h1][/color][/CENTER] [CENTER][color=8882be]Walter Vikena[/color] • [color=lightpink]Willow Vikena[/color] • [color=burlywood]Gideon Edwards[/color] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Y5MyrN1.png[/img][/CENTER] [CENTER][color=8882be][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Montauppe Mansion Ballroom — Once the Petits' estate, now under Damien ownership[/CENTER] [CENTER][color=Burlywood][b]Time:[/b][/color] Evening • Autumn, 1709[/CENTER] The ballroom glistened like something out of a dream. Crystal chandeliers scattered the glimmer of gowns across marble floors, and the air smelled of perfume and buzzed with the hum of string instruments. It was an evening meant for elegance. Naturally, that meant Walter Vikena strolled in as though the night were already about him. His entrance was a performance: chin lifted, hair swept into a stylish mess, and that ridiculous grin on full display. He looked ready to give a speech or start a scandal, or perhaps both. With a bounce on his heels, he came to a stop beside Gideon Edwards. Young Gideon Edwards was the picture of propriety. His red hair was neat, his cuffs perfect, and his posture straight as a board. But his gaze swept the room with faint suspicion, as if expecting trouble. Then pretty little Willow hovered between them, a vision in pink, her hazel eyes wide with nervous excitement. Her fingers twisted together, and she whispered something about how “pretty everything looks,” as if afraid to disturb the enchantment. Walter, of course, had no such restraint. [color=8882be]“There they are!”[/color] Walter declared loudly and suddenly, throwing his arms wide. [color=8882be]“The sacrificial lambs of tonight’s affections. I give it ten minutes before one of them tries to faint near me just for the excuse of being caught in my arms.”[/color] Gideon sighed the sigh of a man who had known Walter too long and not long enough, adjusting his cuffs. [color=burlywood]“Walter, for the love of the gods, must you announce your delusions aloud?”[/color] [color=8882be]“They’re only delusions if I’m wrong.”[/color] Walter winked, then grinned wider. [color=8882be]“And I never am.”[/color] Gideon glanced over and to his horror, there was indeed a small group of girls near the orchestra, stealing glances at Walter with obvious curiosity. He leaned in and muttered under his breath, [color=burlywood]“One day, someone’s going to slap you.”[/color] [color=8882be]“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Giddy.”[/color] Walter’s smirk turned downright wicked, and he bumped Gideon’s shoulder with his own. [color=8882be]“You’re getting me all excited before we’ve even found a place to sit...”[/color] Rolling his eyes, Gideon quickly averted his gaze and decided to pivot the conversation. His gaze caught on a particularly severe man glowering in their direction. [color=burlywood]“Remind me again why Duke Gabriel Petit always seems to have just swallowed an entire lemon?”[/color] Walter barked a laugh. [color=8882be]“Because he has to introduce his son Laurent to ladies without mentioning that his only hobby is talking about [i]fish[/i].”[/color] Willow let out a soft gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. [color=lightpink]“Walter! That’s not very kind!”[/color] [color=8882be]“Kindness?”[/color] Walter spun dramatically toward her, hand to his chest. [color=8882be]“I am so [i]kind[/i], dear sister. I’m rescuing an entire generation of women from conversations about trout.”[/color] Gideon sighed, shaking his head, though the corners of his lips twitched. [color=burlywood]“At least Laurent's quieter than his father. Gabriel once spent an entire hour lecturing me about how Primitus disapproves of dancing too exuberantly. ”[/color] [color=8882be]"Primitus probably disapproves of fun in general,"[/color] Walter retorted cheerfully, his eyes alight with mischief. [color=8882be]"I think the Petit’s ideal ball would consist of sitting silently in a circle, reciting prayers, and glaring at anyone who dares breathe too loudly."[/color] Willow’s giggle escaped like a burst of bubbles, her cheeks turning pink. [color=lightpink]“Oh no, that’s just true!”[/color] [color=8882be]"I know. Isn't it delightful?"[/color] He winked charmingly, nudging Gideon again but with his elbow this time. [color=8882be]"But enough about sour old men and their fish-obsessed sons. Willow, weren’t you looking for someone tonight?"[/color] Willow’s eyes lit up instantly, the blush on her cheeks deepening. She smoothed the fabric of her dress, her voice soft yet filled with anticipation. [color=lightpink]“Lord Desmond Wood. He promised me a dance tonight.”[/color] Her brother immediately sucked in a loud gasp, as if she’d just confessed to falling in love with a street thug. Then, slowly, dramatically, he turned toward Gideon with the look of a man who’d just watched someone lick the floor. [color=8882be]“[i]Desmond Wood[/i]?”[/color] he repeated, like the name physically offended him. [color=8882be]“You mean Captain Rakehell himself? The man collects women like taxes?”[/color] Gideon tilted his head, lips twitching. [color=burlywood]“Come now, he’s not that bad. ”[/color] [color=8882be]“Gideon, respectfully, he’s a bastard. I can see it on his stupid face.”[/color] [color=lightpink]“You two are being ridiculous!”[/color] Willow protested with a giggle, though her ears were turning pink. [color=lightpink]“He’s sweet and thoughtful!”[/color] [color=8882be]“The only ‘thoughtful’ thing about him is how hard he thinks before saying absolutely nothing.”[/color] Gideon gave Walter a sidelong glance, amused. [color=burlywood]“You’re jealous your precious twin sister might spend more time with him than you.”[/color] [color=8882be]“[i]Of course[/i] I’m jealous! I’m emotionally unstable! And if Desmond so much as brushes a fingertip against her hand, I swear on all that is holy, I will set his cravat on fire and blame it on Lord Laurent Petit.”[/color] [color=lightpink]“Goodness, Walter,”[/color] Willow laughed breathlessly, cheeks flushed from giggles. [color=lightpink]“You must have had your fill of libations before even arriving. I’m going to have my dance, and that’s the final word on that... I’ll see you gentlemen later.”[/color] She twirled off with a dreamy little skip, eyes locked on her mark. Walter watched her go, expression dripping with theatrical grief. [color=8882be]“And you’re too lovely for that sentient breadstick,”[/color] he called after her, wagging a finger as if he could scold her back over. [color=8882be]“I’ll fake a seizure! I swear I will!”[/color] She didn’t look back, already halfway to Desmond Wood, who was leaning against a column like a man very aware of his own bone structure. Walter squinted like he’d just spotted a cockroach. He turned to Gideon with an accusatory jab of his elbow. [color=8882be]“Well then, who are [i]you[/i] going to dance with, carrot?”[/color] Gideon blinked, already reaching into his coat. [color=burlywood]“I’m afraid I don’t have adoring maidens trailing after me like ducklings,”[/color] he said dryly. [color=burlywood]“I suppose I’ll just find a table for us and begin that book I brought.”[/color] Walter stared, stunned. [color=8882be]“You brought a [i]book[/i] to a ball?”[/color] [color=burlywood]“It’s a gripping work on maritime navigation, actually—”[/color] [color=8882be]“Oh, [i]absolutely not.[/i]”[/color] Walter grabbed his wrist before Gideon could escape. [color=8882be]“You are not going to sulk in a corner with your [i]textbook[/i]. If no one's asked you to dance, then congratulations, you're dancing with me.”[/color] Gideon blinked rapidly. [color=burlywood]“Wait. What? But—but—Walter, we can’t—”[/color] [color=8882be]“Too late! You’ve already been swept off your feet!”[/color] Walter spun him halfway onto the floor before Gideon could form another excuse, ignoring the scandalized looks they were receiving. Gideon stumbled slightly, laughing, but mortified, as Walter tugged him further into the center of the floor. [color=burlywood]“I hate you.”[/color] [color=8882be]“No, you don’t.”[/color] Walter murmured, barely audible beneath the waltz’s rise. His lips parted slightly as if he might say more, his eyes softening as they searched Gideon’s expression. Gideon froze just enough to be noticed. His brow knit, lips parted in turn, and for half a heartbeat, neither of them moved. A breath caught between questions neither dared to ask. Then Walter spun them suddenly, breaking the moment, [color=8882be]“ Come now, dance with me like you’re not plotting to escape from my arms for once.”[/color] They careened slightly off-beat from the rest of the ballroom, nearly colliding with a horrified Lord Laurent Petit, who fled like a startled fawn. Gideon let out a genuine laugh as Walter twirled him again. [color=burlywood]“You’re going to throw out my back, you madman—”[/color] [color=8882be]“Then I’ll carry you,”[/color] Walter chirped. [color=8882be]“Heads up, Gideon, I’m dipping you now!”[/color] [color=burlywood]“Don’t you dare—!”[/color] But it was too late, Walter leaned him back dramatically, far too low, earning a scandalized gasp from a passing lady and a stifled snort from a nearby servant. Gideon flailed upright with a grin he couldn’t suppress. The music swelled, and the two of them gave up trying to follow anyone else’s rhythm, moving in ridiculous tandem. [color=burlywood]“You’re lucky I’m spry, Vikena,”[/color] Gideon muttered through a breathless laugh. [color=burlywood]“Anyone else would’ve thrown you across the room by now.”[/color] [color=8882be]“You’d miss me terribly if I shattered against the punch bowl, and [i]died[/i] a tragic, sticky death.”[/color] Walter shot back with a grin, [color=8882be]“but what a legacy I’d leave. Here lies Walter Vikena — too beautiful for this world so he drowned in some non-alcoholic bullshit excuse for punch.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“More like, ‘Here lies Walter, tripped on his own ego.’”[/color] Walter nearly tripped as if to prove the point. [color=8882be]“Don’t tempt me. I’ll bring you down with me, carrot.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“Please stop calling me that.”[/color] [color=8882be]“Never. You’re my crunchy orange boy.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“I have a [i]title[/i], you know.”[/color] [color=8882be]“So does my pet goat.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“What title could a goat possibly have?"[/color] [i][color=8882be]“King Fred.”[/color][/i] They were still laughing, cheeks flushed, when the quartet in the corner let their bows fall into a gentler rhythm. The footwork of those around them yielded to something slower, something that made the chandeliers seem to glow a little warmer. The two boys' movements slowed, softening into a gentle rhythm as Gideon dipped Walter this time. [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/xSqEpwP.png[/img][/center] One of Walter’s hands remained on Gideon’s sleeve. The other hovered, hesitating, not quite falling away from Gideon’s waist. His grin faded as their eyes locked, and suddenly, the air between them changed. Their breath mingled in the close space. Gideon’s blue eyes held questions, and Walter’s gaze was still. For once, neither filled the silence. Instead, his hand lifted, brushing ever so gently along Gideon’s back, soothing in its tenderness. As if his fingertips could say what he wouldn’t. Then, slowly, like instinct, his knuckles ghosted up to the edge of Gideon’s jawline… barely touching the curve of his cheek. The world around them dimmed, and in that moment, nothing else existed, just them, and a question neither had dared to answer: [i]what if?[/i] Then Walter blinked. His gaze shifted over Gideon’s shoulder, and everything changed. [color=8882be]“...Gideon,”[/color] he murmured. Gideon followed his gaze and saw Willow standing stiffly in the middle of the dance floor. Her smile was brittle. Her hand rested on Desmond Wood’s, but her eyes looked lost. Walter’s mouth twitched, then flattened. It was obvious to anyone looking that she was absolutely crushed. Desmond was dancing with her, but his posture leaned away. His hand, though technically proper, gripped hers without tenderness. And worse… He was laughing. Not with her. His head tilted toward another girl who stood nearby, giggling into her glove. Walter’s fingers curled into a fist. [color=burlywood]“Walter,” [/color] Gideon warned, sensing the shift in his breathing. But the warning came too late. Walter stepped back from Gideon and with long, intense strides, he stalked across the floor, cutting through swirling couples. The moment he reached Desmond, he didn’t wait for politeness. He shoved between the pair, nearly knocking the man back a step. [color=8882be]“Is this your idea of a dance, Wood?”[/color] Walter snapped, [color=8882be]“Looking at every other woman in the room like you're at a livestock auction?”[/color] Willow startled, eyes wide. [color=lightpink]“Walter, stop—”[/color] Desmond’s easy smirk faltered for only a heartbeat. Then, with the confidence of someone used to getting away with things, he stepped forward, squaring his shoulders. [color=lightblue]“It’s called having charm, Vikena. You’d know nothing about it.”[/color] [color=8882be]“Oh, forgive me,”[/color] Walter barked a cold laugh. [color=8882be]“I forgot charm now includes stringing along sweet girls for your evil desires.”[/color] [color=lightblue]“And I forgot you were still suckling at your sister’s skirts like a jealous puppy. "[/color] Desmond sneered. [color=lightblue]“Relax. No one’s interested in a simpering bitch like her.”[/color] He leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. [color=lightblue]“Why don’t you run back to Edwards, since [i]clearly[/i] no woman here wants to dance with you?”[/color] Gideon was already halfway across the floor, threading through the crowd, panic flashing in his eyes. [color=burlywood]“Walter, don’t—”[/color] [color=8882be]“Say that again,”[/color] Walter growled, stepping close enough their chests nearly touched. [color=8882be]“Say one more word about her.”[/color] Desmond leaned in with an amused glint in his eye. [color=lightblue]“You mean the girl who’s practically begging for my affection? Tell me, which one of you two is going to cry first when I leave her for someone with a working brain?”[/color] The quarrel had caught the attention of those nearby at this point, and a few onlookers gasped as Walter’s fist moved fast. The sound of his knuckles colliding with Desmond’s jaw cracked like a whip through the air. He staggered back, but he didn’t fall. He reeled back, eyes wild, and then lunged forward with a snarl, punching Walter back square in the cheek. Walter’s head jerked, his body twisting from the blow, but he didn’t fall either. Instead, he grinned. Gideon grabbed Walter’s shoulders, trying to pull him back. [color=burlywood]“Enough! You’re going to get yourself arrested—”[/color] Willow pushed her way between them, shoving at Desmond’s chest with tears in her eyes. [color=lightpink]“Stop it! Both of you! This is insane!”[/color] Walter snarled over Gideon’s shoulder, trying to shrug him off. [color=8882be]“He doesn’t get to walk away from treating my sister like that!”[/color] [color=lightblue]“Your sister’s not made of glass,”[/color] Desmond snapped, rubbing his bruised jaw. [color=lightblue]“But I suppose she is easy to break.”[/color] [color=lightpink]“Get out of my sight!”[/color] Willow shouted, voice cracking as her eyes welled with furious tears. The music had stopped. All eyes were on them. Duke Percival Vikena stood frozen, eyes narrowed in disapproval. His jaw was clenched so tightly a vein throbbed in his temple, arms folded across his chest, while his wife Duchess Cordelia Vikena was pale as ivory and trembling behind her fan. She stared at her son with a haunted look, her rosary clenched so tightly the beads bit into her skin. Closer to the spectacle, Duke Adam Edwards arched one amused brow, his glass of brandy paused midair. He let out a slow, thoughtful breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in wry amusement as he commented, [color=ffc213]“Do try not to bleed on the Petit’s carpet beneath your feet, Lord Vikena. It’s imported.”[/color] And from across the room, a voice boomed: [color=gray][b]“Enough!”[/b][/color] Duke Gabriel Petit stood at the top of the ballroom stairs, his rigid frame shaking with barely contained outrage. His greying hair looked freshly fluffed, as if the stress itself had ruffled him. [color=gray]“This is a sacred celebration and you choose to treat it like a back alley tavern brawl?”[/color] His eyes blazed as they swept across the trio and landed, predictably, on Walter. [color=gray]“Lord Vikena. Lord Edwards. Lady Vikena. You have defiled the sanctity of this night. Go outside and get some air.”[/color] [color=lightpink]“But—”[/color] Willow began, but Gabriel’s hand shot up. Walter wiped the blood from his lip with a wicked grin and gave Desmond a final glance. [color=8882be]“Your fly’s open, by the way.[/color] Gideon grabbed him by the arm before he could make things worse. Walter didn’t resist. His shoulders were tense, but he let himself be dragged away. Willow followed beside them as the three were escorted toward the back entrance. However, in no way was Walter silent during this transition. Walter twisted his arm just enough to hurl one final declaration over his shoulder,: [color=8882be]“[i]Everyone saw it![/i] I was the righteous blade of justice, and you are pure greasy villainry, Desmond Wood!”[/color] He threw his free arm wide, as if addressing an invisible jury. [color=8882be]“History will vindicate me!”[/color] Gideon groaned aloud, half-dragging him toward the exit, but Walter paused mid-stride, threw his head back, and blew a kiss toward the cluster of girls by the orchestra, who were watching in stunned silence. [color=8882be]“Ladies…”[/color] he purred, giving them a wink. [color=8882be]“I regret only that I could not defend your honor as well. Perhaps next time, hmm?”[/color] A few of them actually giggled. Walter gave one final, sweeping bow, then straightened as both Gideon and Willow shoved him outside. The doors opened with a heavy groan, and cold night air rushed in to meet them. As the grand doors shut behind them, and the three found themselves in the gardens, Walter informed them, [color=8882be]“Mark my words, I’ll be a legend by morning. They’ll write sonnets about me.”[/color] Gideon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. [color=burlywood]“More like they’ll write restraining orders.”[/color] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DGLQ6p0.png[/img][/center] Behind the Petit estate lay a meticulously curated garden. Cobblestone paths twisted through rose-covered trellises. Towering hedges were trimmed with the obsessive precision of a noble gardener. In the center, a marble fountain shaped like an angelic maiden poured water from an urn into a pool, its trickle echoing through the stillness of the air. Wisteria draped from pergolas and fireflies begin to blink in and out of the shadows. [color=lightpink]“Walter… how much did you drink before we even arrived?”[/color] Willow asked, [color=lightpink]“You’re going to get yourself seriously hurt one day. Or worse…Locked up. You know how Papa and Mama are… They’re already at their limit with you.”[/color] Something behind his eyes twitched. He looked ahead toward the garden path, jaw tightening slightly before his usual smirk returned. [color=8882be]“Darling Willow,”[/color] he said smoothly, [color=8882be]“I had precisely the amount of wine required to dance like a god and punch a rake in the face.”[/color] He turned to her with his usual demonic grin, [color=8882be]“And if that’s a crime, then let me be guilty forevermore.”[/color] Gideon’s voice was dry, but the worry behind it was real as he chimed in. [color=burlywood]“It’s not the wine I’m worried about. It’s you throwing yourself headfirst into trouble like you’re desperate to win a medal for it.”[/color] The three of them moved forward and came to a stop at the marble fountain where Willow sank onto the edge. Her eyes lifted toward Walter, brow creased. [color=lightpink]“You scared me,”[/color] she admitted quietly. [color=lightpink]“You always do when you get like this.”[/color] Walter stood frozen for a breath. The confidence drained just slightly from his face, but it was quickly masked again by bravado. He approached the fountain, his boots crunching over gravel, and offered a bow. [color=8882be]“I live to both alarm and delight. A tragic flaw, I’m told.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“Walter,”[/color] Gideon cut in more firmly this time, [color=burlywood]“she’s not joking. You didn’t think. You just saw red like you always do, and I know you’re smarter than this.”[/color] [color=8882be]“No, no—what I saw was [i]Willow[/i],”[/color] Walter snapped back, suddenly serious, [color=8882be]“With tears in her eyes and that bastard looking smug about it. That’s all I needed to see.”[/color] Silence followed, save for the soft trickle of the fountain and the occasional chirp of crickets in the hedges. He turned away, running a hand down his face and into his hair, his fingers shaking faintly. [color=8882be]“I’m fine,”[/color] he muttered. [color=8882be]“I’m [i]always[/i] fine.”[/color] Gideon stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Walter’s shoulder. His voice was low and kind. [color=burlywood]“No, you’re not. But you don’t have to be. Not with us.”[/color] His expression softened, and he said more lowly, [color=burlywood]“Never with me.”[/color] Walter said nothing. Instead, he looked up toward the sky, exhaled a deep breath, and finally his shoulders sagged. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he turned toward the garden path and declared, [color=8882be]“Well. Let’s go vandalize something. I need to feel something other than overwhelming rejection from society.”[/color] Willow let out a small laugh despite herself while Gideon just shook his head. [color=burlywood]“Walter…”[/color] And with that, Walter strode off a few paces ahead, arms thrown dramatically into the air as he went on about the incoming sonnets again, and his sister’s gaze lingered ahead as he stalked through the wisteria like a wounded lion. Gideon watched her quietly before offering his hand. She accepted it, and he helped her up from the fountain’s edge with ease. As she took his arm, he glanced at her sidelong, noting the faint tremble in her breath. Her gaze had gone distant despite the smile she kept on her face. [color=lightpink]“He’s a mess,”[/color] she whispered. Gideon smiled gently, the expression filled with affection. [color=burlywood]“Indeed. But he’s our mess.”[/color] He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips just grazing her cheek. His voice dropped to something softer. [color=burlywood]“You don’t have to smile for us, you know.”[/color] Willow blinked, startled by the directness. [color=burlywood]“You were hurt tonight,”[/color] he continued. [color=burlywood]“And not just by fists. You trusted someone, and he made a fool of that trust in front of half the nobility.”[/color] He paused, looking down at her the way he had his own sister many times over. [color=burlywood]“That doesn’t make you silly, Willow. It makes [i]him[/i] small.”[/color] Willow’s lips parted slightly, her eyes beginning to sting again. [color=burlywood]“I know what it looks like when you’re pretending not to cry.”[/color] He smiled faintly. [color=burlywood]“My sister did the same thing. Same wobble in the chin.”[/color] Her hand tightened slightly on his sleeve. [color=lightpink]“I should have known better.”[/color] [color=burlywood]“No.”[/color] His voice was firm but kind. [color=burlywood]“He should have [i]been[/i] better.”[/color] Meanwhile, Walter had drifted several steps ahead, the dramatic fire in his stride cooling into a casual swagger, until it wasn't. His smile faded. Something in the distance made him slow, one foot faltering slightly as if the air itself had thickened. His brow furrowed, and his head tilted with a curiosity that revealed his instinctual unease. The wisteria parted around him like curtains, revealing a figure standing just beyond the nearest hedge. A man? No—Two. One stood upright, wrapped in a black cloak that pooled around his boots. The other was hunched over, half-dragged, half-stumbling, a thick iron chain looped around his neck and clutched tight in the tall figure’s hand. The chained man was gaunt, dirty, bruised, his mouth gagged, his feet bare and bloodied from being pulled across stone. The taller figure moved with eerie calm. None of them ever forgot the sound of that steady grind of chain links and the slow scraping of boots on the cobblestone. Walter’s breath caught in his throat. [color=8882be]“...Don’t like that.”[/color] he muttered. Behind him, footsteps crunched gently on gravel. Willow and Gideon had caught up, and their chatter was silenced the moment they saw the look on Walter’s face. [color=lightpink]“What is it—”[/color] Willow began softly, but her voice trailed off as she followed his gaze. Gideon grabbed her arm and ushered her to crouch low behind the hedges alongside them. All three dropped into a kneel in the shadows. The trio watched in frozen silence. The man moved with purpose, but no urgency. His hood was drawn low, casting his face in shadow, but they could see his mouth as he spoke quietly to the chained man. The words were inaudible, but his tone had the lulling cruelty of someone speaking to a dog they meant to drown. He gave a sharp tug on the chain, forcing the prisoner to collapse to his knees with a sickening thud. His gaunt form swayed like a leaf in the wind, blood dripping down from his chin where his lip had split open, and a dark stain bloomed on the back of his tunic. [color=8882be]“He’s branded.”[/color] Walter breathed, the words dry on his tongue, as if even speaking them left a bitter taste behind. Willow’s breath hitched audibly. She pressed a hand to her mouth, her other hand instinctively gripping Gideon’s sleeve. The cloaked man raised a gloved hand, and out of the shadow stepped a second figure. A woman, face obscured by a half-mask, with crimson gloves. From her back hung a sleek, angular weapon, its shaft etched with glyphs that shimmered faintly with violet sigils. She approached with such mechanical movements it was as if she weren’t truly human at all, and from her hip she withdrew what looked like a needle. She crouched beside the chained man, who began to squirm, eyes rolling in desperation. She didn’t speak. She simply inserted the needle just below his ribcage and began to inject him with something, something none of them could name. The reaction was instant. His body arched violently, muscles seizing, veins in his neck bulging. A horrible sound, like a choking gasp strangled in cloth, echoed as he writhed. Then she withdrew it… only to insert it again, lower this time, closer to the stomach. Walter surged halfway to his feet. Gideon wrapped an arm around his middle and dragged him back down hard. [color=burlywood]“Walter—stop.”[/color] [color=8882be]“We [i]cannot[/i] let this happen,”[/color] Walter hissed. His voice cracked as he spoke, and his chest heaved. [color=8882be]“We can’t just sit here—”[/color] [color=burlywood]“I know. I know. But if you move, he’s going to see you.”[/color] Gideon tightened his hold and reached for Walter’s hand, gripping it firmly. When he glanced up to meet his eyes, he froze, startled at the sight. Silent tears had begun to trail down Walter’s cheeks. Meanwhile, Willow had gone pale. Her hand trembled visibly on Gideon’s arm, her knuckles white. The woman pulled a second tool from her belt, a long knife of some sort. She murmured something to the man on the ground, then dragged the blade across his shoulder in a clean slice. Then the pain hit. He bucked again, slamming his head back into the cobblestones with a dull [i]crack[/i]. Willow turned away, pressing her forehead to Gideon’s sleeve, muffling a soft, broken sound while Walter’s hand had curled into a trembling fist over his knee, his entire body wound tight like a spring. The male finally knelt. [color=silver]“You will tell me where she is. Or I will make you [i]remember[/i] it from your marrow.”[/color] Gideon stared ahead in quiet horror. His voice dropped to a whisper so low only the twins could hear. [color=burlywood]“We have to go. Now. If he sees us—”[/color] His whisper barely left his lips before the hunter’s head twitched. Not toward the prisoner. Toward them. The masked woman froze mid-motion as her head turned as well, slowly like a predator scenting something on the wind. Walter’s stomach dropped. [color=8882be]“He saw us.”[/color] He didn’t need to say more. Gideon grabbed Willow’s wrist in one hand, Walter’s coat in the other. [color=burlywood]“Run.”[/color] They bolted. Their feet tore over the cobblestones, down the garden path, and past the wisteria-strewn arches. Branches whipped at their faces as they crashed into the forest beyond the estate, the sounds of the garden swallowed by thorns and bark and their own thundering hearts. Willow’s gown caught on roots, but Walter reached back and pulled her forward without a word. Gideon stayed behind them, scanning the trees, making sure nothing followed. They didn’t stop running. Not even when their lungs began to burn. Only when the light of the estate was gone and the world was swallowed in darkness did their legs give out beneath them. They collapsed in the crook of a hill, beneath a canopy, gasping as if they had been drowning. Walter fell to his knees, his coat soaked, his hands clutching the wet earth. His breath hitched and stuttered in his throat, and when he finally managed words, they came as a hoarse whisper: [color=8882be]“My father wasn’t lying.”[/color] His wide eyes met Gideon’s, glassy with disbelief. [color=8882be]“They hunt us.”[/color] Walter swallowed before continuing. [color=8882be]“People like me and Willow...Monsters like [i]me[/i]...”[/color] His voice broke entirely. [i][color=8882be]“Like animals.”[/color][/i] Willow dropped beside him, her knees folding under her, arms wrapping tightly around herself as tears fell down her cheeks. She curled inward like she could make herself vanish. Gideon knelt between them, drenched in sweat, still gasping from the sprint. He reached out instinctively, placing a steadying hand on each of their backs. [color=burlywood]“You’re safe now. They didn’t follow. You’re safe. You’re safe…”[/color] He was staring beyond the trees, into the swaying dark. His lips moved without sound at first, until memory pushed words forward: [color=8882be][i]“We don’t belong to them. But they’ll break us until we do.”[/i][/color] Willow’s voice came next, cracked and aching. [color=lightpink]“They’re here… In Caesonia.”[/color] Her arms tightened around herself as she looked up, devastated. [color=lightpink]“I always thought they might come for us, with the way Papa would talk—but I thought we had more time…”[/color] [color=8882be]“They’ve [i]always[/i] been here.”[/color] Gideon’s brow furrowed, heart pounding for a different reason now,. [color=burlywood]“Who…”[/color] he asked, his voice low, afraid of the answer. [color=burlywood]“Who are they?”[/color] The twins turned to him, slowly. Their expressions were hollow now, eyes rimmed in red. And though the wind rustled the trees, and fireflies blinked like dying stars, for a long moment… They never did manage to answer him that night.[/color] [/hider]