Chapter Text
The gusts of wind whipped the two children’s hair wildly, blinding them with loose strands. Children, for the most part; if you could still consider the young pilgrim boy possessed by a demon a child. In any case, they behaved as such.
The sky howled as air rushed past the branches, nearly maddening in its intensity. The moon, waning halfway through its arc, watched silently from above. Esther, the older-looking of the two, sat cross-legged with a book in her lap, her eyes aglow.
After the encounter with the hooded figure at the front of the house, Abaddon, the aforementioned pilgrim boy, recounted his experiences to Esther. He described reliving the entirety of the universe a hundred times over, following a strict pattern to preserve his sanity. The only variable, he explained with quiet dread, was the repeated deaths of every member of the Freeling family.
Esther, outgoing and boisterous as ever, struggled to comfort the demon. Though Abaddon remained as deadpan as usual, a subtle waver in his voice betrayed his fear.
At present, they were deep in the woods between the Hotel and the broken watermill. This was Esther’s idea of consolation: performing difficult rituals to protect their family and distract from the trauma of Abaddon’s journey. Not the conventional way to cope, but for this outlandish pair, it was the obvious choice.
They had reached the most difficult part of the ritual. Esther’s tongue twister grew increasingly complex, while Abaddon laid bones around her in a rhythmic pattern. The unforgiving wind wailed around them, nearly sweeping Abaddon off his small feet.
At one point, Abaddon stumbled, briefly touching the center of the ritual circle before regaining his footing. Neither of them seemed concerned, and they continued with expert precision, weaving movement and speech together.
Suddenly, Esther was cut off mid-chant. The center of the circle shimmered with swirly, fuzzy pinks and yellows. A small seed sprouted, and a glowing blue flower bloomed. But before either of them could inspect it, the flower wilted, turned to dust, and fluttered away. The wind ceased, leaving the two children standing in stunned silence.
“I was pretty sure I did that perfectly,” Esther said after an awkward pause. She placed a thoughtful hand on her chin, still seated on the forest floor.
“As did I,” Abaddon grumbled.
The spell was supposed to summon a bouquet of extraordinary flowers capable of healing nearly any injury or curse. Unfortunately, the ritual had consumed nearly all the ingredients they’d gathered. Repeating it would require another week of collecting resources. And who’s to say the spell wasn’t faulty?
“Well, that was a really fun waste of my time. Sorry, man,” Esther sighed, finally standing. She’d read through the book a million times before they began, but now she had doubts. She would’ve asked Abaddon to check, if only he weren’t so terrible at reading English.
“Well, that was inconvenient. My prized bones have been wasted,” the demon muttered, gathering their remaining supplies. He shrugged off any lingering frustration. It wasn’t worth it, it had been for fun, as Esther had said.
“I mean, we saw the flower for a moment. Maybe we just need to tweak the ritual a bit and we’ll get those flowers, no problem,” Esther said calmly, following Abaddon as they began the trek home. “I know you wanted those flowers pretty badly,” she added, trying to sound casual, though she felt a pang of guilt.
“It would have simply been an extra precaution. I, Abaddon, have already spared us from the worst of our injuries,” he replied, pushing past an especially tall root with a grunt.
“Yeah, I’m not worried. We can try again later,” Esther giggled. “Also, I didn’t know you cared so much,” she teased, reaching to poke him, just before tripping roughly.
Before she could hit the ground, Abaddon lunged and caught her. “I think you should know by now that I care deeply,” he said quickly, grasping her arm and helping her to her feet.
Esther looked up at him, confused by the sudden affection. He returned the look with a nearly matching expression. Of course Abaddon cared; she knew that, but he rarely expressed it so openly. And usually, for good reason.
A moment of silence passed between them as they stood in the middle of the woods. Unsurprisingly, Abaddon’s nose and mouth began to bleed. He shrugged at Esther, who slapped her own face in exasperation. "Okay, man, no need to be so nice. Don’t want you bleeding all over the place.”
Abaddon nodded and led them the rest of the way. By now, the moon was nearing the small mountains, and Esther had school in the morning. They stood outside her room, shared their special handshake, and parted for the night. Esther quickly fell asleep, and Abaddon headed for the vents.
Despite the weirdness, they’d had fun messing around in the woods and practicing the ritual. Even if it had been a total dud this time, they didn’t worry.
Everything was just fine.
Hopefully.