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It would just be a waste

Summary:

His little grimwalker’s lack of bilesac became something of a complication when the baby fell badly ill, fortunately, Belos found a temporary solution.

After all, if Hunter was going to die, it would be by his hand and his choice of execution. He was family, after all. He wouldn’t have his grimwalker stolen from him too early by a trivial thing such as bad luck.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Hunter was one of the youngest grimwalkers he’d made in a long time. There had been one perhaps… no, he couldn’t recall.

Belos brushed the thought away and looked through his logbook on the boy where he’d recorded the boy’s development religiously. If this one’s development could be cracked, then it may end up being the best result yet. This one was going to be special and would be ready to face what was to come on the day of unity.

Unfortunately, babies were still fragile things.

Hunter was whimpering, skin chalk-white like a corpse and sweat on his brow, squirming in his scout, Sebastian’s, arms. At nine month’s old it was still a delicate time for the baby, any manner of illness could have taken him.

“The cough started when I was giving him a bath an hour ago.” Sebastian was panicking. Belos had intercepted the scout in the evening as the man was rushing towards the Healers’ Wing with the sick baby cradled in his arms. “It sounded really bad and it wouldn’t stop, s-so I just was running—"

Sebastian.” The emperor placed a steady hand on the scout’s shoulder, putting a stop to his incessant rambling. “There’s no need to panic. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Then, he easily reached out and slipped the baby from the scout’s grip. “I’ll see to him.”

Belos raked his fingers through Hunter’s hair, which was damp with sweat, skin flushed with a fever.

“Oh, y-yes of course.” Sebastian nodded, fidgety and staring at Hunter who was wriggling in the emperor’s arms. “May I come—?”

“I have it more than handled,” he interjected coldly, feeling a twinge of irritation. “I would suggest you spend the time sterilising my nephew’s room since it’s likely he caught something there.”

The scout winced, lowering his head in shame. “Yes, of course, emperor. I’ll see to it at once.”

Belos shifted the baby in his arms as Hunter fussed more, starting to cry quietly. He held back an exasperated sigh and turned to leave, not sparing the scout a second glance.

“Brr.” Hunter squirmed, tears in his eyes as he started to cry more. “Nn!”

Hush.” His hand glowed red as he touched the baby’s cheek. “Sleep,” he commanded, his magic quickly sending the baby into a deep slumber. “Much better.”

There was nothing worse than a whimpering child, and the little grimwalker’s cries could be shrieking.

The spell kept the baby blissfully asleep as he walked further down into the chasm of the castle, humming to himself faintly, clawed finger scraping the wall as a third shadow followed him. The deeper he went the more decayed and dark the stairs grew.

“Bored again?” he asked faintly, voice echoing.

There was a manic giggle that bounced off the stone, two white eyes appearing in the dark. “Let’s play a game!”

Belos sighed, staying patient. “I can’t, I’m busy. Perhaps later.”

The shadow child whined and pouted, dancing across the walls in outrage. “No fair!” They huffed and glared at the bundle in his arms. “Ugh, can’t you just leave it somewhere or…” The Collector trailed off and hid in his shadow when they reached the bottom of the staircase, two guards outside the metal door to the lab.

The guard stood to attention as Belos approached and opened the door without question, while he barely acknowledged them and curled a loose tendril of Hunter’s hair around his finger. The baby was threatening to stir awake again as the fever got worse.

He arrived at his private lab shortly, and then clicked the right brick into place to access the secret passage, one best kept from wandering eyes.

There was a lingering smell of soil in the private lab, the place a mess full of ingredients and the odd jar of discarded limbs.

He placed Hunter on the examination table and set to work,  while The Collector watched silently near the back. He seemed put out since it wasn’t the centre of his attention for once, glaring at the infant somewhat petulantly like a jealous child.

“I’m bored,” The Collector repeated.

Belos rolled his eyes. “Yes, I did hear you the first time.” He removed the blanket from around the little thing and checked his skin for any rashes, and he could see there was a faint, almost grey shadow on his chest. “And, as I said I’m busy.” He hummed and checked the baby’s temperature with a thermometer. “His temperature is too high…”

It didn’t look like the common mold…

He racked his memories; he should know what was wrong considering he’d written most of the books for modern medicine in the Boiling Isles, or at least the important ones.

Hunter coughed again, whining and stirring in his sleep, spitting out dribble…

Wait… a wet cough, a fever, it could just be a chest infection of some kind. Which, if the case, a normal potion should do the trick, but that didn’t explain the shadow of a rash on his chest.

The Collector groaned loudly. “Ugh, are you done yet?”

His curse tingled, threatening to get the best of him and strike the shadow child. “Perhaps instead of complaining, you could be of use?” He removed his mask, raising an eyebrow at The Collector. “His illness is something I haven’t come across before…”

The Collector rolled their eyes. “Oh, so now you want my help?” Then, they smirked. “But what’s in it for me?”

Belos sighed, feeling tired already, and he debated for a second letting the baby die right now just to avoid the inconvenience of having to entertain the immortal shadow child. “…We’ll play a game of hide and seek. How about that?”

It was one of the few proposed games he somewhat didn't mind since The Collector seemed happy to disappear for hours and win on default.

The Collector’s white eyes lit up like fire. “Really!?” They slid to his side. Flat on the table next to the restless baby. “Hmm... Well.” They pretended to poke the child while Hunter whimpered in his sleep. “I guess I could give it a shot.” They giggled, quickly circling the baby. “Hm… oh.”

“Well?” Belos asked impatiently.

The Collector giggled more. “It’s really obvious.” They danced around the floor tauntingly. “How didn’t you see it?”

His eye twitched, gritting his teeth. “Collector.” His voice was tight, mud starting to leak. “I only have so much patience left.”

The Collector snorted. “Okay, fine.” They snorted. “No need to be so testy.” They looked smug, circling the baby again. “It’s a virus, quite common with witchlings, but unfortunately your little grimwalker can’t fight it off.”

Belos’ brow furrowed, staring down at the child. “So it’s to do with his immune system, correct?”

“Yep.” The Collector popped the P. “See, it’s a virus that crawls all the way in the widdle one's chest.” Their fingers pretended to walk up Hunter’s arm like stairs. “And, normally, a bilesac would fight it off, but…” They giggle while Hunter shivered violently. “Since it doesn’t have one, that little virus is gonna burrow and eat away at its chest all night until poof…!” The Collector laughed, making the sound effect. “…There’s nothing’s left.” Then, they shrugged. “But, at least you can recycle it!”

“Yes, contaminated goods,” Belos muttered, staring down at the little one. “So… it needs magic in it.”

The Collector shrugged. “Sure, maybe.” They sighed. “Can’t you just make a new one, this is way too much effort?” The shadow slithered off the table.

“That would be a waste,” Belos replied, irritated, as he stared down at the baby. “Besides, I decide when they die.”

If Hunter was going to die, it would be by his hand and his choice of execution. He was family, after all. He wouldn’t have his grimwalker stolen from him too early by a trivial thing such as bad luck.

“Well, if you want to grow him a bilesac out of thin air, go right ahead,” The Collector remarked.

Belos wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I won’t contaminate what’s left of my brother with that mutation.”

Hunter was blessed with not having that disgusting thing contaminating him. Besides, he wouldn’t infect the memory of his brother with those things, the baby already looked too much like a witch; those large ears pointing out tauntingly.

“Then, what’s the plan?” The Collector asked, arching a brow.

Belos thought for a moment. If this illness got worse, then the little one might not live long, which would be a waste, especially of resources which were rarer and rarer each year. He could recycle what he could, but it would be too small, he may have to start with another baby, which would be a hassle.

Belos sighed, growing irritated as he cupped Hunter’s cheek which was too warm. Hunter made a whimpering noise and squirmed more in his arms, stirring from the spell. His little creation was small and defenceless.

Then, that reminded him of the other little creations not too far from here. “Ah, yes, that could work.” A plan quickly formed, and he scooped up the baby into his arms again, wrapping the blanket around him.

He placed his mask back on and then walked out of his private lab, heading back towards the hallway he came.

“Ooh, what are you doing?” The Collector sounded intrigued now, trailing after his shadow.

Belos ignored them as he went up the decaying stairs and then took a left.

He entered the basilisks’ room, cages lining the entranceway. The warden was studying the small creatures in the cages while a scout diligently was standing by with an electric prod in hand.

“Warden,” he spoke curtly, causing the warden to look up in alarm.

“Emperor Belos.” He bowed along with the scout. “And…” The warden’s tone grew confused. “Your nephew… is everything alright?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” He ran his fingers along the bars of the cages as he inspected the young basilisks inside, trying to select the right one. There were only four currently, but he was hoping to have the fifth one completed within the year. “My nephew is ill,” he said grimly, causing the two coven members to tense. “Which is why I’ll need one of the basilisks prepared for an extraction.”

“An extraction, but…” The warden hesitated. “Considering how young they are, it might not be successful—”

Warden.” Belos’ tone caused the scout behind the warden to shiver and step back. “Do I need to repeat my orders?”

The warden stood up straighter. “No, of course not.” He passed the clipboard to the scout. “Which one would you like me to prepare?”

He hummed, casting his gaze over the four cages, as his fingers trailed the bars. Number four was too young and weak, there’d barely be anything to take, but number two and one…

He stroked the bars of number one’s cage, and the creature whimpered and crawled back. This one was four years old so it had more of a chance, but… its yellow scales were frayed and almost sickly, like the thing could be blown over by a slight breeze.

His gaze shifted to number two. This one was three years old and its red scales were more vibrant. Stronger. With more muscle on its bones than the others, even while it trembled and started to cry in its cage, there was more life in it.

“Number two,” Belos said, stroking Hunter’s hair softly as he stared at the whimpering basilisk. The creature’s chest rising and falling rapidly. Unsteady like its lungs couldn’t get enough air in. “Be quick about it.”

The warden’s keys jangled, triggering the basilisk to let out a little shriek and cower at the back of its cage, scratching at the walls like a rat.

He stepped back and watched curiously as the warden wrestled to get the tiny thing out of the cage.

Hunter finally woke when the noise got too loud, crying. “Nah!”

Belos grimaced as the cries made his ears ring. “Now, look what you’ve done, you’ve woken him,” he chided—a memory flickered to life of a woman echoing the same thing to his older brother, but the memory came and went quickly as the basilisk screeched nearly as loud as his nephew’s cries. “Hurry up.

“Apologies, emperor.” The warden finally dragged the hysterical basilisk out of the cage while the other basilisks were yelling and shouting too now.

His nephew's shrieks merged with the basilisks' like nails scraping on a slate, to the point he couldn't decipher whose cries were whose. It was so much noise!

“See that it’s done by the time of my return,” he instructed sharply, turning away from them as he started to walk out of the room. “Hush, Hunter,” he soothed, bringing the baby close to his chest while the little one looked up at him with bleary, tearful eyes.

“Grr.” Hunter coughed, his small body wracking with coughs. “Ack!”

Belos could feel the baby’s heartbeat against his chest, remembering when his brother would hold him as a young child when he was sick.

A sudden piercing scream from the room scared the baby again, crying renewed.

Belos sighed. “I know, they’re causing so much noise, aren’t they?” he cooed, combing his fingers through the little one’s hair. “Don’t worry, it won’t be for long,” he whispered softly in his ear while the baby’s cries continued. “Then you’ll feel better soon and all this will just be a nightmare.”

The Collector silently watched him warily from the shadows. “…You’re so weird with that thing.”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the shadow as Hunter’s sobs turned to whimpers again, too weak to keep crying.

The noise from the basilisk room soon faded too as the screaming stopped, followed by a blissful silence.

“There, much better.” He smiled thinly into Hunter’s hair, the soft strands felt soothing. Calming him. “Now...” His hand glowed red again. “Sleep.” The magic lulled the baby back to sleep, the little one’s head resting on his chest. “Better. Now, I can actually think.”

The Collector huffed. “Can we just hurry this up already?”

“Wasn’t that entertaining enough for you?” he said, walking back into the room with The Collector hidden in his shadow. “There’s still work to be done.”


Hunter’s chest rose and fell, his arm hooked up to a tube which injected the purple potion into his veins. The magic from the basilisk made the tiny thing’s veins glow unnaturally purple under the skin. The extraction had worked, though it did mean he now had three young basilisks instead of four, but that could be easily remedied since he could always make more. 

Belos watched him closely from where the baby rested on the table, his mask on the side. The little one seemed more settled now and his fever seemed to be going down as well, only a little restless in his sleep.

He smiled smugly, running a hand through the little one’s hair. “Who needs a bilesack, hm?”

The Collector rolled their eyes. “If it did have one, it’d be less of a hassle.”

It was a hassle. All these extra steps needed to compensate, but it also was one of the few things he and his grimwalker shared, both powerless beings in a world of magic.

He glanced at his staff resting on the table. Well, somewhat powerless.

“His immune system will improve as he gets older,” he said firmly, remembering the other grimwalkers. “None of the others were so sickly but, still, it’s a fascinating observation.” He traced the highlighted veins on his nephew’s arm as the baby slept. “Little grimwalkers are quite the oddity it seems.” He smiled in amusement. “So unpredictable.”

“Pfft, barely.” The Collector scowled. “It’s the same as those snake things. They’re not special.”

They’re easily replaceable,” he replied, growing irritated with The Collector’s childishness. “This little one here is harder to put back together.” He could create a basilisk in a half-baked attempt but grimwalkers required more patience, especially when recycling the bones. “He’s not like them.”

To imply as much would be an insult.

To even imagine his brother’s face staring back at him from a cage just didn’t sit right, it felt like a waste. The grimwalkers weren’t human but they were… something better than a common experiment. Even if they were ugly and imperfect, clumsy, things, they were still a cut above his other creatures.

Belos sighed, curling the tendril of the baby’s hair around his finger while the little thing slept. Perhaps that was his mistake, that he spoiled them too much. Especially with Hunter, a good hundred years ago he would have scoffed at gifting them with toys of all things and a crib. Practically playing house.

But, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Hunter locked up with those other things, for no good reason, rotting away in a tiny cage. Not when he was almost a perfect replica of his brother. It would just be a waste.


Hunter awoke from a nightmare he couldn’t remember properly, whimpering as he eased his eyes open in his crib.

The sun was bright and his fever was gone.

“Hey there, buddy.” A familiar scout mask leaned over the crib. “You feeling better now?”

Hunter smiled in relief when he saw his favourite scout. “Seba!” He reached up towards him, kicking the air. “Ba!”

His scout pulled him from the crib and held him close. “Your fever’s gone?” The scout sounded cheerful, touching his forehead. “Thank the Titan, right?” He chuckled and ruffled the baby’s hair, earning a giggle. “Whatever the emperor did must have really worked, huh, kid?”

Hunter gurgled and snuggled his face closer to the scout, feeling safe again as the light from the window kept the shadows at bay.

Notes:

I'm not prepared for the final episode