Esther Alta
Eddie Teach
this is a misc. story!
Esther Alta
"You're free to go, kid."
As soon as Esther heard the words, she knew how Eddie would respond to them. The kid bolted towards the slums of Salem like Death itself was at his heels. The instinct to run after him was quelled by a firm grip on Esther's shoulder.
The Cleric whipped around to see Mr. Nevermore, wearing a pained smile. "Give him a bit."
Esther gave a sharp exhale, but didn't argue. She exhaled slowly, watching Eddie's tiny frame disappear behind a maze of alleyways.
"You'll need to be careful with that one." A little chuckle escaped Nevermore, and the Cleric squinted slightly. "The kid won't have his guardian for the next four months."
"Which means four months in the system." Esther dragged a hand down her face. "Right. You guys better find a family this time."
"Of course we will!" Nevermore put his hands up like he was under arrest. "We received an application that looked quite promising; Eddie will be in good hands."
"Right. Am I just moving the kid to the foster place, or do I...?" Esther asked. She had done this countless times before. Most of the time, she just had to bring the kid to the foster family. Sometimes - frustratingly often in recent years - she would have to house the kid in her own home for a few days. Twice in a row, a few days became a few months.
"You will have to house him, for a bit..." Nevermore's voice was tinged with an apologetic tone she knew all too well. "We've got some last-minute preparations that need to be made before the foster family is ready."
Funny. He said that last time, and the time before that. That hardly boded well. Esther made a mental note to find something embarrassing to needle him about in case Thomas was freed before the new family was all set. "Okay, fine," the Cleric grumbled. "What am I going into here, then?" She asked, folding her arms.
"You've gotten the gist of it from when I had you heal Thomas," Nevermore shrugged. "The boy's jumpy. Prone to paranoid delusions. Extremely distrusting of others. Fears authority figures most of all." He listed them off while counting on his fingers. "Amplified tenfold now, I'm sure."
"You're really giving me a challenge, huh?" Esther half-rolled her eyes, glancing toward the south side of town.
"You're familiar with the situation. You'd be best equipped to deal with him." Nevermore gave her a smile, a little warmer on the outside. Esther noticed the bolt of terror that lurked behind his ocean blue gaze. The man's smile didn't quite make it to his eyes. "I've got hope."
"How long do you think it'll take?"
"We'll let you know."
Esther pursed her lips. That sounded like another months-long fistfight. "Hmph. As soon as you can, then."
Nevermore gave Esther a tired, guilty smile. The Cleric turned and walked down, slowly following the faint trail Eddie left behind.
Cobbled streets gave way to packed dirt roads. Tidy storefronts and bright colors faded into sagging houses and crooked alleys. Windows were shuttered tight in the middle of the afternoon. The air smelled like damp wood and smoke from cheap coal. Esther pulled her robes tight around her shoulders. She hadn't set foot in the slums since she was a little girl. It was surreal, seeing one's childhood home after thirty years. Even more surreal to see that everything was the same, down to the bitterness in Esther's throat and the tightness in her chest.
Esther shoved the memories aside and kept walking. Her white robes and golden caduceus staff practically glowed among the grays and dirty browns here, drawing more attention the Cleric's way. Suspicious glances were cast by an army of people who either forgot Esther was raised here or weren't around to see it. The deeper Esther walked into the slums, the sharper those stares became. The Cleric kept her pace steady, slipping back into the way she used to walk as if thirty years ago was yesterday. "Look with your eyes, not your head," the little one in Esther's soul called. "There's trouble a few blocks away." The Cleric's eyes flickered. She saw it - saw them. Esther's grip tightened around her staff.
A couple stepped out of a narrow alleyway just ahead of the Teach house. They blocked the street without even trying to look casual, stopping Esther's progress frustratingly close to her goal. The Cleric stifled a growl and sized them up. A taller woman and a shorter man. Both rough around the edges, with patched clothes and boots worn so thin Esther could see holes starting to form. Their posture was sharp, and they were both armed to the teeth with weapons they couldn't have afforded to buy.
"Hey there, fancy pants." The leader of the two snarled, fingers drumming against the club in her hand. "What are you doin' here?"
"My job." Esther replied. One hand instinctively tightened behind her back.
"That so?" The one in the back, a skinny little man, drawled. Esther vaguely recognized this guy... "Your job doesn't take you to this side of town, princess. What's your real angle?"
"What the hell do you mean? I wouldn't be back here if I didn't have a damn good reason to be." Esther gave her full attention to the young man. Ebony skin, blood red eyes, and a thin, worn-out coat whose color had faded with age. Now the Cleric realized where she'd seen this man before. He'd been rescued from the duchess's cages. No wonder he was so quick to assume the worst. Esther's face softened, just a little. "I've got someone I need to help, so here I am to help him."
The young man looked back at the half-boarded up house he had blocked Esther from approaching. A dark laugh escaped his lips as he brandished a knife. "The kid's not looking for visitors, capisce?"
Esther sighed, glancing over the leader's shoulder to see if any more of these ruffians were going to impede her mission. A small crowd of onlookers was starting to form, each with their own weapons drawn. Their suspicious glares pierced into Esther's eyes. If they weren't in her way, it'd be admirable that they all cared so much. "Well, by order of the state, he should be expecting me. So, unfortunately, I'm gonna have to ask you all to move." Esther's tone only grew more irritated with each word. This was a waste of time.
"You expect us to believe the gov' gives a damn about us?" The leader let out a dark laugh. "Ain't that cute." She shoved Esther back as she spoke. "I don't want trouble, princess. Not for me, not for you, definitely not for the kid." The woman loomed over Esther, poised to strike. "So get out of here before we make you."
Esther glanced up as she stumbled backwards. "The state doesn't give a damn about me either, but I've got shit to do and you're in my way." The Cleric dusted off her robe, tapping her staff onto the ground as the woman started to lunge forward. Esther leaned against the barrier that formed with a faint glow, hand dipping into her robe and shuffling around for a moment before producing a large, thick folder from her robes. The Cleric opened it up to reveal the court order that had sent her to this desolate wasteland. "I've got reason to be here. Put those away and leave."
The crowd of vagabonds glanced at each other for a moment. Esther could almost see the gears turning in their heads as they processed what should have been painfully easy to grasp. After what felt like countless seconds of life slipping away, they finally stepped aside, muttering threats under their breaths.
Deathly silent air was punctured by creaking floorboards and the smell of dust in the Teaches' home. The kid was nowhere to be found. As Nevermore had predicted, Eddie wasn't going to make this easy. Esther walked slowly through the halls of the house she'd been in several times before, taking in the scene around her. Old, tattered furniture brought life, however listless, to a sparsely-decorated living room. Pillows that didn't match were strewn about a patchworked couch. The inkwell in what looked like a reading nook in the corner of the room was nearly empty, and a half-finished poem sat on the tiny desk nearby. A lit candle near the window marked someone's recent presence here.
Though Esther knew what she would find in this place, it was the first time she had the chance to truly grasp what the Teaches' living situation looked like. It was... heartwarming. The cousins owned precious little, but the love in their tiny house was bigger than any manor she'd entered in her life.
Still, no sign of the kid. Esther considered calling out to him, but... she remembered the thin little sword aimed at her throat, back when Nevermore had first sent her here. As memories of winter flooded in, the Cleric thought of the way that boy trembled in every limb, standing steadfast to protect Thomas from a threat within his own mind.
The weapon was no danger to Esther, but she couldn't risk the kid acting unpredictably. Esther carefully lifted tablecloths and opened closets, searching for Eddie in any place a child could hide. Deathly silent air greeted Esther every time. The Cleric put her hands on her hips and sighed. This kid really didn't want to make it easy on himself. Esther wandered back to the living room to retrace her steps.
There, she saw it. Underneath the large table in the living room, a trapdoor hid nestled within the floorboards. Esther's spine chilled, she imagined the table collapsing and trapping someone inside the suffocating cellar underneath. She couldn't dwell on it now. A loud groan of wood sliding against wood echoed in the walls. Once the trapdoor was fully exposed, Esther slowly, softly entered the cellar.
It was nearly pitch black, save for the tiniest flicker of yellow-orange light in the corner of Esther's vision. Slowly she squeezed her way deeper, the faint tap of her shoes echoing in the tiny corridor. How could the elder Teach even use this space, when a petite woman like herself barely fit? Each step brought the light closer to herself, and revealed the soft sounds of someone fumbling with a bag. Eventually, Esther craned her neck around the corner. The Cleric saw the slightest glimpse of Eddie's trembling form. His golden hair peeked out from behind a mess of crates. His tattered rags quivered in the stagnant air of the cellar.
Esther knew better than to provoke this boy's panic. Whatever reason Eddie had to make himself scarce after all she had done for him and his family, she still remembered what she'd seen, and what Nevermore told her. Esther backed up, sitting at the edge of the candlelight, and waited. It would be days before the state found a caretaker, if they were lucky. For once in Esther's frantic life, she had time to burn.
Green eyes met brown. A terrified scream cracked like thunder. Eddie raced back toward the safety of the candlelight, and Esther made no move to follow. After what felt like eternity, the boy approached again. His emerald eyes scanned up and down, taking in Esther's soft smile and relaxed posture. Likely, Eddie was wondering why the one he referred to in hushed whispers as "the acolyte" would be waiting for him in his cellar and not approaching. Eddie's words failed him for a moment before he finally spoke. "Um... h-hi?" Terror still swirled within his eyes, but it was a start.
"Hi there," Esther replied with a patient smile. "I'm sorry I scared you."
Eddie's eyes narrowed, distrust rising to the surface beneath his panic. "W-why are you here?"
"I... look. Neither of us want to do this." Esther leaned forward, just a little. "You don't have a guardian right now. The cops don't like the sound of that, so... you're under my care for the next few days."
Eddie flinched. Esther gave him a soft nod. "I... I can handle myself." Eddie's trembling, tearful figure made that even harder to believe.
Esther glanced around the dim basement. It was hard to see, with the flickering candle and all the dust floating around in there. "I'm sure you could. That's... not how things work when you get caught up with the law." When she got no response, the Cleric sighed. "I'll do everything I can to make this bearable for you."
Eddie shrunk back, slipping around the corner of the cellar. Esther heard deep breaths from the other side of the territory Eddie had claimed. He was trying to calm himself, but whatever terror had clawed its way into his heart wasn't letting go. That sound spoke louder than any words could. The kid needed space right now.
Esther climbed out of the cellar and gently closed the door. She still had time to burn.
--
It was nearly a full day before Eddie dared leave that tiny cellar. Esther didn't know how he could stand being in a cramped, claustrophobic cloud of dust for so long, but by the time she heard the cellar door creak open on its own accord, she was almost surprised it happened at all.
"Hi." Eddie's voice was calm this time, as if the terror behind his eyes yesterday had never happened. Esther knew better, but it was a start.
"Good morning." Esther gave him a smile. "Is there anything else you want to do here before we get you packed up?"
A misstep. Eddie's expression shifted into that subdued paranoia the Cleric had seen so many times. "I want to stay here." It was a child's attempt at firmness. Eddie knew where Esther was leading him, and he was fighting the tide to stand his ground. This was going to be rough.
Esther looked around. This house was sweet, but it was barely liveable. "I know," she said apologetically. "I can't do that, though. They expect you to put up with me for a little while."
Eddie started preparing breakfast for the two of them, as if distracting Esther with another task would prevent the inevitable. "You haven't attacked yet, b-but... letting you t-take me..." That terrified voice returned, just for a second, before Eddie swallowed it down. "They expect too much."
Esther fought the urge to hiss at the slight. She had to remind herself, it wasn't his fault. "Maybe they do. I still have to do my job."
A shiver ran down Eddie's spine. He buried himself in his work and said nothing.
A storm cloud formed in Esther's mind. Those callous words, that sudden shift in tone before returning to the script the Cleric couldn't see... It all said so much. What could she possibly say in return? The obvious pitfall stood at her feet. Esther wasn't going to ask why on Earth this child was so convinced the Cleric would attack him, that would only fuel the terror that had clawed its way into his heart.
The smell of sizzling eggs made Esther's mind drift, but she stopped herself. Trying to make casual conversation didn't feel quite right. A paranoid child would think she was trying to mock his last meal, or something along those lines.
Gods, Cathy was right. Esther should have been a prosecutor.
The Cleric could fantasize about another life later. She couldn't maintain this stalemate all day. Esther still had time to burn, but not so much that she could grant him the wish of hiding from the inevitable. "It won't be as bad as it sounds." It sounded wrong as soon as it came out of Esther's mouth. How could a simple sentence make her feel like such a fool?
Emerald eyes flared with rage, barely long enough for Esther to process that it had happened. By the time the boy placed two plates of biscuits and eggs on the living room table, his expression flickered back to that subdued paranoia that seemed to be his default. A quiet little voice came out, almost afraid to put its words out into the world. "What are you gonna do to me?"
Esther couldn't stop the bewildered look on her face fast enough. Even more questions filled the Cleric's head as she tried to process the question. "Wh...?" Her voice trailed off as she shook her head firmly. It wasn't his fault. Earning Eddie's trust was bound to take a while, and there was so much Esther couldn't fathom how to ask. "You need to live with me for a few days. I'll give you your own room. I'm going to keep you safe."
Somehow Eddie seemed even less convinced. "You know you can't do that. Not even Tommy could..." He forced himself to take a bite of food and stop talking.
"As safe as I can, then." Esther held onto hope that it would nudge the conversation in the right direction. Some of these cases got to end with "you'll end up in a better place", some of them got to end with "you'll be back home before you know it." What on Earth could one say when a kid felt he wasn't safe anywhere...? The two ate in silence. Hopefully, Eddie would say something when he was ready.
He didn't. Tears welled up in his eyes that he wouldn't let fall. The kid buried himself in his meal as if he were heading for the gallows. As soon as he was done, Eddie vanished from the room like a ghost. Not towards the little bedroom that was clearly his own, but to the other one, where the Cleric had saved Thomas's life. Esther watched Eddie gaze into his cousin's belongings for a moment before stuffing little trinkets and mementos into a burlap bag.
The boy moved with machine-like precision and rhythm. One foot in front of the other, one object after the other, as if Eddie cared far less than he did about the memories he was carrying with him into his new home. Esther could see the cracks beneath the surface. For all the careful performance, the fear gnawing at Eddie's insides was starting to catch him. Esther watched as Eddie withdrew into his shell, darting his eyes towards the front door beneath a mask of grim focus.
"You won't make it."
Eddie froze like he'd been caught in a crime. It was clear the boy didn't believe her, Esther saw the way Eddie's eyes kept shifting between every possible exit. Eddie's hands lifted, calculating his chances of survival and weighing them against the threat within his mind.
If the boy decided he had better odds in the streets, Esther didn't want to imagine what state she'd find him in. So through her pain, she forced her voice sharper. "If you run, it won't be me who finds you." The Cleric stepped into Eddie's line of sight. A river of madness rushed in her mind's eye. She couldn't stop it, but if it changed direction... "Someone out there would be very happy to put you back under their thumb." The Cleric let Eddie's mind fill the gaps on his own.
The dam cracked, but the flow of the river did not change. Eddie's breath hitched. He took a step towards the exit, louder than he probably intended, then stopped himself.
Esther silently cursed. She had pushed too hard. The Cleric moved slowly, putting herself in front of the door with her hands open and her body a safe distance away. "Hey, little guy." Esther let Eddie watch the sharpness in her face melt away. "I get it. It's okay to be scared. But you have to listen to me." Esther crouched down, meeting Eddie's eyes without closing the distance between them. "The safest place you can be right now is by my side."
A wildfire flickered in Eddie's wide eyes. They darted to the window, to the cellar in the living room, then back to Esther. The Cleric hadn't moved. The tremble in the boy's frame slowed down. Good. The boy collapsed onto his cousin's bed, staring at the ceiling as if it would keep the inevitable from pressing in on him. It was a start. Esther sat on the couch, just close enough to keep watch, and waited for nightfall.
As the last vestiges of daylight disappeared under the horizon, a heavy silence settled over the house. Eddie sat rigidly, the burlap bag of Thomas's belongings clutched tightly in his hands. Esther rose from the couch. She pressed slowly forward, planning out the most crucial moment of Eddie's stay in her care to the last detail. Any sudden movement, any hint of force, and the kid's fragile composure would fall apart like sand between her fingers. "Eddie." The Cleric's voice was barely above a whisper. "It's time to go."
Esther knew, the minute she grasped Eddie's hand, she had only solidified the boy's worst fears. Eddie's body tensed, his hand trembled in hers, his eyes widened with panic and darted around in search of an escape. Esther tightened her grip just slightly, in preparation for what she knew was soon to come.
"P-please!" Eddie's trembling voice squeezed at Esther's heart. "L-let me g-go...!" The boy tugged and twisted, fueled by desperation to escape the inevitable. With a sharp, desperate yank, Eddie wrenched himself free. The sudden jerk nearly pulled Esther off balance. Eddie stumbled back a few steps, wide eyes glinting in the dim candle light. The poor kid looked ready to bolt into the night.
Esther didn't yell, she didn't strike, she didn't do any of the terrible things this little boy imagined she would. Instead Esther stayed still, her voice just gentle enough to keep Eddie grounded. "Eddie, I know this is hard," Esther called. "I just... I need to make sure you don't get lost." The Cleric watched the little boy carefully, making sure not to pierce him with her gaze.
Confusion mixed with Eddie's ever-present fear as his emerald eyes scanned her up and down. He seemed to be studying her, the gears turning in his head, the color of his soul shifting from sheer panic to bewildered uncertainty. Eddie's breath began to even out. His shoulders relaxed, by the tiniest fraction. Whatever terror had clawed its way into his heart was starting to subside, but only barely.
Esther dared step forward again. The Cleric shifted her weight, extended her hand, and left it hovering in the space between herself and Eddie. Esther let the boy see it coming before making her act final. No sudden moves. Eddie just stared at her, trembling, his lips pressed into a tight line. Slowly, carefully, Esther's fingers closed around Eddie's small, shaking hand.
The poor kid's last plea cracked in the night air. "D-don't hurt me..."
The words clawed at Esther's heart. Her own voice threatened to waver, but she kept it steady for both their sakes. "I promise, it will be alright."
Eddie didn't dare respond. The walk to Esther's house was deathly silent.
Eddie Teach
Tommy sat on a windowsill, looking out of the window and towards the ground far below. Tommy's usual patchworked coat had been replaced with a white robe, and he wore the wooden crown of the "pirate king" he had once pretended to be. Eddie, meanwhile, donned an elaborate ball gown of just the same shade of white as Tommy's robes. Gems and golden bangles glittered on the little boy's wrists. Eddie spun around in the dress that was certainly not his own, yet seemed to be tailored just for him. The question of how either of them could afford all of this was lost behind Tommy's sweet smile and the comfort of the luxurious room.
The two of them giggled like they'd never had a worry in the world. Tommy gazed out the window again, sandals hanging loosely on his feet. He started musing about the huge party they'd apparently planned that was coming up soon. Everyone was going to be home, Tommy said. They could host it on the beach, and watch the sunset over the waves, and serve drinks in Tommy's ship, and -
Violent pounding on the door shattered the moment. Two knocks became four, eight, sixteen, until the door finally surrendered and fell apart into splinters and ash. War stood among the wreckage, bright red eyes a blazing inferno that bored into Tommy's soul.
"I told you to never come back, Thomas." War snarled. Faint wisps of smoke rose from his balled fists. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"You leave Tommy alone!" Eddie bounded to his feet, eyes flashing with courage that was not his own as he stood between the danger outside and the person he loved most. "He hasn't done anything to you! We haven't done anything to you!"
"Eddie." War looked down at the boy. "You need to move." War's fists trembled, his voice was uncomfortably soft. "He's done nothing but hurt you, can't you see that?"
The thought of Tommy hurting his little cousin was a foreign concept to Eddie. War was playing mind games again. "No! You're not - I'm not going to let you touch him!" Eddie's arms snapped outward, a tiny, useless wall in the face of a raging god. Behind him, Tommy rose, wrath boiling beneath his gaze.
"If that's the game you want to play, War." Tommy didn't sound as afraid as he looked. He rose, rolling up his sleeves and stepping in front of Eddie. "We've both got roles to play in this world, and I'm about sick of yours."
"Tommy, no -!"
Eddie's pleas were drowned out by the frenzied roars of the men charging at one another, trading fists and foul words. Eddie cried out, desperately reaching for Tommy's arm, but never quite managing to grasp it in the midst of the fighting.
War's wrath boiled over at this heresy. He charged towards Eddie, thundering forward like a galloping horse. "W-w-wait, please -!"
Before Eddie could say another word, War punched the boy squarely in the chest, sending him flying into a nearby wall. The little boy wailed in terror, vision already blurring and fading as he feebly clutched his torso.
Not feeling the pain was worse than any agony Eddie could imagine. As soon as the boy's back hit the wall, his legs were numb, falling into the tangled mess of his gown. White skin and white fabric stained that awful, bloody red. Eddie strained to lift himself, begged his legs to obey him, but nothing worked. The boy could barely lift his head enough to watch War's bloodstained hands turn and lunge at Tommy once more. Eddie flinched at the sound of something crunching in the distance.
Whimpers and pleas for mercy filled the air to meet the scent of iron, even though Eddie knew well they would do nothing but draw War's attention his way. The god's footsteps boomed, slow, deliberate, loud, thundering forward like a galloping horse. Eddie desperately tried to flee despite the useless weight beneath his spine. The little boy's vision blurred, his heart raced. Eddie looked up to see a boot climb over his head and hover there for far too long.
His skull crushed beneath its heel, and Eddie couldn't even feel it.
--
Eddie tore awake in the dead of night, screaming and gasping for air. He found himself in a bed that was not his own, though the mementos from Tommy's room faced him on a shelf a short distance away. Eddie hugged his knees tightly, just to make sure he could still feel his legs.
Where was he...?
Footsteps pounding in Eddie's ears brought the memories back, mixed in with his dreams. Running from the gallows snapped to running from the wrath of a god. Hiding in the cellar was met with shadows that morphed into the figure of War and loomed over him. Being snatched away by those shadows in the dead of night became...
The footsteps grew closer, thundering forward like the march of a soldier. War's acolyte was here. He was in her house, her clutches, and he had just screamed at the top of his voice. Eddie cursed his own mind a thousand times. The bedroom door shook, rattling, taunting him with imminent doom.
The doorknob stuck for the briefest moment as the acolyte keeping Eddie prisoner fought with the latch. "Eddie, what's -!?" War's acolyte gasped as the door finally surrendered, eyes wide with an expression feigning deep worry on her face. A trick of the light made Eddie see those eyes as red, red, RED -
Eddie let out a yelp and flinched.
War's acolyte blinked, stepping back and raising her hands. "It's okay. Just... just me, Eddie. Is there anything I can do for you...?"
Eddie's vision fluttered with rapid blinking. The acolyte's eyes weren't red anymore. They were brown, just as they always had been, and scrunched into a wince at the sound of her own voice. Her schemes weren't working, and War's acolyte knew it. Discordant words clashed on the edge of Eddie's tongue, but nothing coherent came out.
The acolyte approached, slow, deliberate, quiet, as if she were trying to sneak up on the boy despite staring him in the eyes. Eddie shrunk back in the bed that was not his own. There was nowhere left to go. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and Eddie was crushingly alone.
A soft touch pulled Eddie from his despair. The acolyte's hand lightly grasped Eddie's own, and she gave him a smile. "Take your time. I'm right here."
Eddie was lucky. Her grip was loose this time. He could struggle, pull away, fight for his life. He... didn't. Some wretched part of him wanted to believe. The urge to grasp at any hope he could, even though he knew it would taunt him later when it was crushed, overwhelmed Eddie to the core. The boy squeezed his captor's hand as tightly as he could -
Then pulled back, as soon as he'd realized what he'd done.
The acolyte's gentle smile persisted. "I just want to help."
Liar. Eddie pleaded with this monster to let him go. She chose not to. The boy had no idea why War's acolyte was pretending to care now... but with doom so perilously close, did it matter?
"Give me a moment." War's acolyte quickly disappeared from sight. Soon, too soon, she returned, a strange object tucked under her arm. "It's... not much," she admitted meekly and held the object up for him to see. It was a stuffed doll, patched enough from years of use that it looked somewhat like a quilt. The doll's hair looked just like the woman holding it, with the same black waves and curved bangs. The acolyte set it on the bed, close enough for Eddie to reach. "Cathy made this for me, when we were still little. If you pick it up... it'll flop over and give you a hug."
Eddie picked up the doll. Its hugging properties were lost on the kid, it just felt unusually heavy for a stuffed toy of its size. Something inside the doll crunched a little, sounding like sand on the beach. Like home. Eddie's eyes narrowed. "Thank you..."
It was a sweet gesture. That didn't mean Eddie could trust her.
"I hope it helps a little." War's acolyte gave Eddie another tiny smile. "If there's anything you need, I'll be just down the hall." When Eddie nodded in acknowledgment, the Cleric stepped out, and closed the door gently behind her.
The breath Eddie had been holding for the past two days clawed its way out.
Esther Alta
Morning air crept into the house through gauzy curtains that washed the world in golden light. The springtime air smelled of warm tea and freshly washed linens. Eddie sat curled up in the corner of a wide armchair, Esther's doll pressed close against his chest. The boy's only acknowledgement of her presence was the way he watched the Cleric enter the room and find her own seat. Still, even that was progress.
Esther pored over the slim case file balanced on her knee. Even with all the church and the courts had gathered, it was frustratingly bare for someone like Eddie. A name. Dead parents and a guardian forced into absence. A school record with good grades marred by spotty attendance. Details on the blackmail case were even more vague than everything else. The whole thing was written with careful words, more inclined to placate the government than understand the child.
Esther flipped it shut with a sharp sigh. She had spent so long dancing around it, and the useless case file in her hands only provided so much. She had to ask something. The Cleric rested her elbows on her knees and leaned forward slightly. "You give nicknames to everyone you meet?"
"Clef doesn't like nicknames, but..." Eddie tilted his head, thinking about it for a moment. "Mostly." It was engagement, if only barely.
"I used to do that too, you know." Esther chuckled warmly. "Only Cathy's nickname ever stuck, though..."
"Mm-hm." Eddie started to noticeably withdraw. The Cleric could never tell what would set him off and make him clam up like this. Eddie was back to hiding in his shell, and any question Esther could ask wouldn't dare be answered. She'd have to ease him into it, but how?
Esther noticed the doll in Eddie's hands. He was tightly clutching the thing now, holding it against his chest and slowly rocking in his chair. Even if he hadn't said it, he did seem to be enjoying it at least a little bit. A little smile flickered across her face. "Did the doll help, then...?" She asked quietly.
Eddie nodded despite himself. He was coming back to life, it seemed. "I didn't know what you meant with that last part, until I laid down with it on my chest, and..." A tiny smile bloomed, for just a second. "It felt like someone was hugging me."
"You're welcome to keep using it as long as you need to." Esther nodded warmly. Part of her knew it wouldn't be hers for much longer. That was fine.
Eddie hugged the doll even tighter now. The Cleric noticed that the button eyes had been picked out, and replaced with bright red ones that seemed to shine in the sunlight from the windows. Huh. That was new. "Does Tommy like red?" Esther asked, adjusting her tone to sound almost absentminded.
"No." Eddie's voice made it clear there was something deeper behind that single word. "Red's your color."
"I see." Esther kept her tone casual even as her mind stumbled over the words. "Red's your color." What the hell did -? No, it would be better not to press. At least, not yet. Esther nodded toward the doll again. "You attached them pretty cleanly. Do you like to sew?"
"Not really," Eddie muttered. "It's just something you have to do." His eyes drifted away.
"You can still enjoy things you ‘just have to do.'" Esther glanced down at her hands. "I like making clothes for the dolls sometimes. Just to pass the time, when I'm not at work."
A small pause. "I don't see how that's relevant." Eddie's voice was flat. His shell had clamped shut completely.
"Well. What do you like?" Esther leaned back with a faint smile that felt the slightest bit forced. "I'm sure there's something. Even if it's just something you do to get by." She couldn't stop thinking about it. "Red's your color." The words gnawed at the back of Esther's mind. She was missing something there, and every second that passed made the gap wider.
Eddie was quiet for far too long. His eyes were somewhere else. Esther could see those calculations flicker across his face again, weighing the risk of letting the Cleric pry open his shell. After what felt like half an hour, Eddie muttered, "I like watching the sunset on the beach. When it's cloudy, no one's around, and..." His grip on the doll tightened. "I mean -" Eddie's voice shrunk to a whisper. "It's dumb. It doesn't matter."
"I don't judge, little guy." Esther softened her voice even more. "I know things can be... hard, on your side of town." Gods, she meant every word. The Cleric barely escaped those streets herself on a stroke of luck. There was so much more Esther wished she could do for kids like him.
Neither of them spoke for a while. Esther refilled her tea. Eddie watched from the safety of his distant chair, gears turning in his mind.
When Esther returned to her seat, she tilted her head slightly, studying the doll in Eddie's arms. The red button eyes caught the morning light. The Cleric's focus sharpened. In Esther's experience, when a kid assigned symbolic meaning to things - colors, names, shapes - it was never random. Red meant something, and that meaning might be a roadmap into Eddie's mind. "So." Esther kept her tone as even as possible. "What did you mean by red being my color?"
The boy flinched as soon as the words were out. Eddie's eyes turned wide and watery. That expression of subdued paranoia slipped onto his face. "I... I don't wanna talk about it." His arms curled around the doll, bright red eyes pressed to his chest like blocking them might shield him from the question.
"Alright." Esther held up her hands and leaned back in her seat. "That's okay."
Esther let the silence stretch between them for a moment. She glanced at the case file, then at Eddie's trembling form. The color red. "The acolyte." Something about that nickname caught her focus. Whose acolyte was Esther meant to be? Thomas had plenty of opportunity to bring up any bad experiences they'd had with the church and its Clerics. He never did. Esther didn't follow anyone else, unless she was being paid.
The Cleric's mind drifted to the first day she and Eddie crossed paths. Mr. Nevermore dropped more money than Esther's going rate into her lap, with a fake patient name and a mission to the slums. Back then, Nevermore made sure to warn the Cleric that this boy wouldn't be easy. Nevermore wasn't surprised when he heard about the sword aimed at Esther's throat. Nevermore had advised her to give Eddie time and be careful when he ran from the trial.
Esther was starting to see what he meant. The pieces of a mind in crisis rested in her hands, but they weren't coming together.
Eddie Teach
Eddie's eyes shot open long before the sun was up. This time he knew better than to scream. The boy sat stiff on the bed, hands gripping the edge of the mattress like he might fall. His breaths came shallow and measured in ways that he could only hope seemed normal.
Everything had to seem normal. Any sign of panic might draw the attention of War's acolyte. Eddie stayed as still as he possibly could and listened for any sign of her moving through the house. He heard nothing. The world was dark and silent. He pressed the doll against his thrashing heart. War's eyes were everywhere, Eddie couldn't afford another mistake. When the first thread of sunlight peeked through the curtains, Eddie dared to rise from the bed.
The boy focused on the sound of food sizzling in the pan. Breathe in. Watch the bubbling of the batter on top. Breathe out. Flip. Don't look back. A routine that kept Eddie from shattering. He carried his plate to the far end of the table to put space between himself and the unknown. The doll sat beside him, one hand curled loosely around its body. Eddie barely tasted the crunchy pancakes and luxurious maple syrup. He just kept fighting the urge to look over his shoulder.
"Come sit with me." The acolyte's voice was suddenly, dangerously close.
Eddie whipped around. War's acolyte suddenly appeared at the edge of the table, looming over the boy. Her expression was a fabricated image of calm, made to lure Eddie in. He wasn't falling for it. War's acolyte left the room, agonizingly slow, hammering home the point that she wasn't going to just leave him there.
Before Eddie could let himself regret it, he followed the acolyte into the room prepared for him. This place was nearly empty, save for a pair of soft mats on the floor. War's acolyte was already seated on one of them, cross-legged with her hands loosely folded in her lap. Too late to turn back now. Eddie lowered himself on the mat in front of the acolyte keeping him prisoner, bracing himself for the worst.
"Sit up a little straighter." The voice of War's acolyte pulled Eddie from his thoughts. "Let your shoulders relax." The acolyte was scanning Eddie up and down, examining every detail of his seating position. She watched the way his legs quivered beneath him, the way his chest heaved and his arms wrapped around the little doll like a lifeline.
War's acolyte started moving. Slow, deliberate, quiet, just like the first time Eddie let his captor see his heart. Eddie flinched before War's acolyte even reached for him. Ice cold hands chilled Eddie to the bone. One at the center of his back, nudging him upright. Another lightly urged his shoulders down. More grabbed at every limb. War's acolyte was touching him. Eddie's whole body shivered with terror. This was it, this was when the mask dropped and the pretense ended and -
Those frigid hands moved the doll from Eddie's hands to his lap, resting its soft weight against his thigh. That damned doll. Eddie hated the wretched part of himself that let it mean something to him now.
"There. Just like that." War's acolyte pulled her hand away and smiled. Eddie sat "properly" now, whatever that meant. His spine was taut, his arms were stiff, his knees hid their quivering. Eddie hated how his fingers twitched to fill the empty void in his hands. "Now, close your eyes."
"No." The defiance slipped out reflexively, before Eddie's mind could catch up.
War's acolyte let out a long sigh. Eddie could see her expression resetting, calculating a new tactic in her mind. "It's gonna be okay, little guy." The acolyte's voice was uncomfortably soft now. "Just your friendly acolyte here. Nobody's gonna hurt you."
Eddie didn't believe that for a second. Everything about this - the offer Eddie desperately needed, the facsimile of an inviting presence, the charade of taking and returning the doll - reeked of setup. War's acolyte was grooming him to drop his guard. He wanted nothing more than to stand his ground and refuse again.
He couldn't. Eddie remembered the veiled threat from before he had been snatched away. "Someone out there would be very happy to put you back under their thumb." He didn't need to be told who someone was. War would hear every detail of what happened here. If Eddie was disobedient, War would know. So, with every nerve in his body screaming, Eddie closed his eyes.
"Just breathe," War's acolyte began. "In through your nose... slowly... that's it. Now out through your mouth. Just like that."
Air went in. Air went out. The rhythm was mechanical and fake. War's acolyte kept talking, as if her gentle voice and slow instructions were going to fix anything. As if sitting on a mat and deep breathing was going to make up for the fact that Tommy was gone, and the eyes of a god were outside every window, and Eddie had been kidnapped by War's acolyte as soon as he thought he was free. Yeah. Sure. Breathing would certainly make it all okay.
Eddie's heart surged with each little blasphemy pounding from within. One eye drifted open, just a sliver. War's acolyte sat exactly where she'd always been, still cross-legged with her hands in her lap and her eyes firmly shut. She wasn't poised to strike, but that didn't mean he could trust her. War was a skilled liar. His acolytes were no different.
Eddie closed his eye. Counted five breaths. Peeked again. Still nothing.
"Keep your eyes closed."
Eddie squeezed his eyes closed so fast they stung. War's acolyte wasn't even looking, and she still caught him breaking the rules. Eddie's whole body tensed, his spine coiled up, his fingers dug into the edge of the mat. He scrambled backwards and yelped, clutching the doll tightly to his chest like it could stop whatever was coming next.
"Hey... are you okay?" There it was. The fake concern, hooked on an invisible line. As if waiting for the excuse, War's acolyte moved forward and spoke, dangerously loud. "Don't worry. I've got you. You're safe here."
Eddie wasn't safe. Every part of him screamed it. He knew better than to fall for it. His eyes shot open. War's acolyte was right there, just short of touching Eddie again. She was smiling, always smiling, always soft and gentle in that way that felt so saccharine yet made the foolish little boy want to clasp onto hope wherever he could.
Slowly, cautiously, Eddie sat up. Back straight, shoulders loose, just like the acolyte told him. Couldn't wait too long, or she'd grab him again. Eddie rested the doll on his lap, letting its weight ground him. War's acolyte returned to her own mat, still wearing that sugar sweet smile.
"Close your eyes." War's acolyte started the cycle anew. "Breathe in..."
Eddie's eyes shut. His heart raced. He inhaled, slowly this time.
"Hold it..."
Eddie held it as long as he could.
"Now breathe out."
Eddie let out a shaky exhale that still counted for something. Then again.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. A countdown ticked behind each cycle. Eddie knew the trap would spring, one way or another. A god as cruel as War would teach his acolytes all he knew about manipulation. By holding onto hope, Eddie only found himself ensnared in his captor's lure. The moment the boy dropped his guard, War's acolyte would strike.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Just acting, that's all it was. Eddie was playing along so War's acolyte wouldn't find an excuse to attack. Conserving energy while he still had the chance. The acolyte hadn't moved yet, but Eddie knew better than to take the bait in earnest.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Eddie kept his breathing measured and shallow, listening for any signs of movement. The slightest creak in the floorboards, the barest change in the acolyte's tone, and Eddie would know when to run. For now, his muscles wound tight, bracing for the worst.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Somewhere along the way, Eddie noticed his shoulders weren't burning anymore. His grip slowly loosened from around his knees. He couldn't tell how long he had been here anymore. He needed to focus, but the edges of his mind felt far away.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. The warmth of the room faded. It felt absent rather than cold, like when Eddie slept on an arm too long and it grew numb. Had he lost consciousness? No, the boy could still crack an eye open and see the light pour in. When it closed again, something moved behind Eddie's eyelids. A flash of color, then people. Figures in hoods moved in single file and passed offerings to one another.
A bright red circle was etched into a stone nearly stained pink by repeated rituals. The room they stood in was bigger than Eddie's whole house. Burned out torches lined the walls, but the place still glowed from that ritual circle in the center. Eddie's breath nearly caught in his throat. He stopped himself. At the other side of the room - the real room, not this place he'd found himself in - War's acolyte was still waiting for him to drop his guard.
At the far end of Eddie's vision, four thrones loomed over the altar. Two were empty. One was cracked nearly in half, the other looked pristine. Beside them, two more thrones were horribly full. On the biggest throne sat a tall, emaciated old man, so thin and pale that his flesh appeared as bone. A tattered, ash-gray robe adorned the deity, its hood down to reveal his long silver hair that glowed like moonlight. Eddie could barely see the silhouette of a scythe slung over his right shoulder.
At this god's right hand sat his partner. A being fully covered in black robes, silk gloves, and a beaked mask. Eddie could barely see pitch black feathers float down from their robes, dripping rot into the stones beneath them. One deity made a gesture to the other. The cult moved faster, rushing to meet the summons of their gods.
Eddie's heart jumped into his throat. His eyes shot open. War's acolyte didn't seem to notice. She sat in the same cross-legged position as before and kept wearing that sugar sweet smile. No sudden strike, no harsh words, no punishment for straying from the path. Eddie kept that perfect posture to hide the terror clawing up his spine. On the inside, Eddie's heart was racing with wild panic. His fingers dug into his knees. His eyes welled with tears that the boy quickly wiped off before starting again.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Eddie let the rhythm pull him from his nightmare. One breath at a time. Each one came out longer than the last. Eddie's senses felt less jagged. His shoulders dropped, just a bit. The silence held in the air. Eddie's panic softened at the edges. He was still alive. Fed and warm and unharmed. For now. Maybe War's acolyte truly...
No. No, no, no. Eddie wasn't a fool.
Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out.