The Witch's Son

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Salem watched as he got up. He only expected him to go into the other room, or the kitchen or somewhere. Not out there, anywhere but out there. Salem knew he had no right to talk to him like that, even if it was just a friend to friend thing. They were still friends, right? Oh, he would positively suffer if Belphegor left just like that. He loved him like a brother!

Oh, what if he gets attacked? What if a hunter shoots him? What if he makes it into the town? With that thought, and other terrible ones coming into place, Salem quickly took on a jacket and a weapon. If he was to be attacked, he at least wanted to protect himself. He brought a potion along, one that he could use to spit fire. It was a spell made from a potion book based off of dragons. His mother was fond of the things. With that, Salem left, with the potion strapped right around his waist. He ran after Belphegor, but he ran aimlessly.
 
Running was actually easier than walking; after a while, the momentum kept Belphegor from losing his balance. He ran until his foot got caught in a root and he fell.
He didn't bother getting up. It was good to lie here. Where would he go and what for?
Then he remembered something. The clothes, still foreign to him and still a burden. These were Salem's clothes and he only put them on for his sake, because that's supposedly what a human ought to do; there was no reason to wear them now. He wasn't human anyway. He couldn't be and he didn't want to be and he wouldn't tolerate these human things on himself any longer. At first he wanted to just tear them off, but it would somehow still have hurt to destroy them. Salem could have them back if he found them. So he took them off properly, then he went a few steps away from them, curled into a ball, put his head on his knees and cried.
 
Salem ran frantically through the wood. Oh good lord, what could become of his friend? He hoped to some god out there that he would be okay- or at least sensible to keep himself out of complete danger. Salem ran faster than he ever thought he could- maybe faster than the time he and his mother got chased out of the market. Maybe even faster than anyone he knew- and he really didn't know a lot of people.

Salem ran around for a solid half an hour, before he saw him. Salem didn't know why he was nude, but in reality, he really didn't care. He was safe and sound, and he was alright. Salem silently blessed mother earth for her watching over him, and he carefully approached him. " Oh, Belphegor, thank god you're alright. I was worried sick... Are you hurt? Are you okay? Oh, please, tell me you're alright... "
 
Belphegor had heard Salem coming, but resolved not to look up. That will just hurt more. Still, there was no mistaking the genuine worry in his friend's voice, and that simultaneously hurt and felt good. Because one doesn't worry about things one does not care about. He didn't have to be human to know that. However injured he felt, however little he wanted to see him right now, he could hardly keep from falling into his arms. And yet that was the worst thing he could do, wasn't it?
He didn't know how to answer. Was he all right? He doubted it. If he was, he didn't want to be.
Without raising his head, he made an effort to speak again, immediately regretting what he said, and yet having nothing more to say.
"Go."
 
Salem never meant for this to happen. He wanted Belphegor to know to how to save his actions for someone special- someone he was going to live with in the future, and someone he was going to love and make happy. He wanted to make sure that he knew what the difference between love and friendship was- he never intended to hurt him like this.

Salem began to cry. He hasn't cried since... Well, not in a long time. He could hardly remember the last time he did. Salem clinged onto the nude man, and sobbed silently. " Don't leave me. Please, don't leave me. " He had been around Belphegor for so long, he forgot what it was like to live without a friend. He never wanted to live without him- he cared for him too much.
 
And that was it for Belphegor's resolve. He hadn't wanted to cause pain to Salem, and yet he did, and that was awful, he had to stop it. He couldn't bear to hear him cry, even if he himself also did. He was a little ashamed at the relief he still felt behind all that. Because he didn't want to leave. And now he wouldn't be able to repeat what he had said, not even if he had to. He slowly uncurled himself enough to free his arms and put them around his friend's neck. He didn't want to stay and he didn't want to leave and all he wanted was for the world to collapse right now and bury them under the ruins. Because for the first time he had to think about tomorrow, and he couldn't see a tomorrow he wanted to live through.
 
Salem, even as a human, has never felt such a string of emotions. He has felt them, yes, and he knew that they were there, but he never used them all at once before. First came the joy of seeing his friend happy with an experiment. The, came the slight confusion as to why he left. Next came the instant panic at the thoughts. And lastly, came the sorrow of knowing that his friend wanted nothing to do with him.

Salem held onto Belphegor for dear life, and hoped that he would not push him away anytime soon. After crying for so long, he soon pulled away, and looked at Belphegor. He soon turned away. He couldn't look at him and know that he had hurt him that way. " Lets... " Salem sighed, mid-sentence. " Lets go. "
 
Belphegor nodded and wiped his face with both hands. The world showed no signs of collapsing, and they couldn't stay here forever, though that prospect seemed quite as bearable as any other sort of future he could imagine. But if everything was bad, he might as well do what Salem wanted. He stood up, holding onto the lower branches of a tree; his legs were shaky and uncertain now and he wasn't sure he would be able to walk. He would have to try.
He wondered if there was another potion to change himself back to a cat. But he felt distinctly that even if he were to change back, some things could never be undone.
 
Salem picked up the clothing that the man stripped off of himself- for what reason, he did not know. Salem took off his cloak and wrapped it around Belphegor. It would probably rain soon, and he knew how unproductive those spring falls were. He didn't want his friend catching a cold.

Salem and Belphegor walked in silence for the rest of the trip. If Salem ever wanted to say anything other than what he already said, he didn't say it. If Belphegor wanted to... Well, it was probably only one syllable. Salem walked in silence, and soon saw the light of the house in the distance. As they neared towards it, Salem picked up the speed. Not because he wanted to leave Belphegor, but because he wanted this day to be over. Tomorrow, he would wake up bright and early, and go to the market place to get some supplies.
 
In spite of everything, in a way it felt good to be back home again. Not happy, maybe, and by now far from predictable; but if only he forgot about his own body for a moment, Belphegor could imagine it was this time yesterday. And he wouldn't drink the potion, and everything would be forever as how everything had been always.
But maybe he could still have that. If there was a potion to turn him into a human, he couldn't see why there wouldn't be one to turn him into a cat. His first thought was of course that he could ask Salem, but he didn't entertain that one for long. He had to do this himself. He sat down in the nearest corner so he could properly think about this idea. He didn't know how to read very well yet, but he wanted to practise it, didn't he? If he makes haste, he might find the potion while Salem is asleep. He might even make it in time. He might be a cat again, come morning. His eyes darted around, taking in the number of books; they had quite a lot of them, but hopefully not all about potions, so he could narrow his search to those that were. In fact he might find the one in which Salem looked up the human potion, he probably didn't get around to putting it away yet; wouldn't all shapeshifting potions logically be in one place?
 
Salem, unlike Belphegor, was absolutely ecstatic that he was back home. He feared being out in the woods for nothing important, because a hunter may come along and quite possibly mistake the two for large game. Speaking of game, he needed to catch some. He knew well how long it took to hunt, and Belphegor knew well, too. Salem knew that if they wanted some food to eat for the next day, he would have to leave. But what of Belphegor? Will he stay? Will he go?

Salem sighed. They had to eat, so he would have to hunt. But, before, he would talk to his friend. Salem walked out of his study, and into the biggest room in the house- the one where he practice his magics. Salem walked towards Belphegor, and put a hand on his shoulder. Sale sighed, and looked to him. " I have to go. Not into town, don't worry. I'm going to hunt us some food. Please, please don't leave. Alright? " Salem had slightly worried look on his face. Scratch that- an EXTREMELY worried look on his face.
 
Belphegor nodded, his eyes downcast. He no longer had any intention to leave. He had done that out of desperation only; where would he go? He couldn't survive on his own, he couldn't trust anyone else, and though he didn't know why, he knew that other humans were dangerous. But that wasn't all of it either. If he was unhappy now, where would he be happier? Even if he could get used to his body and find himself a safe place in the world, even if he built a house somewhere, like this one, hunted for himself, took care of himself - it seemed to him that without Salem, a part of him would be missing. Could he get up every day and know his friend wasn't there? There would be no point. No, he wouldn't leave. He couldn't leave.
 
Salem could trust him. The witch nodded with him, and slowly got up. He went over to his small cabinet next to the rocking chair, and took out his bow and arrows. He didn't trust guns, so he only used natural hunting materials. Salem took his cigarette from the potion table, and stuck it in his mouth. He took it out before, but now it was back in his mouth. Salem took a long puff, and exhaled.

With that, Salem left without a word. Just smoke.
 
Belphegor listened to the closing of the door. He was alone. If he wanted to look for the book, he should do that now.
It was hard to will himself to get up, as if all his limbs were made of lead. How different this was to his previous experiment... Now this was the one idea he had left, and he couldn't even believe in it. But he had to do it, it all had been his mistake and he had to put it right; so he forced himself to stand and walk over to the books he had knocked over after his successful levitation.
He had observed in his time as a cat that Salem would often keep the books he might need near the potion stand until he was absolutely sure they wouldn't be necessary any time soon. This was just good practice; with potions, much depended on the timing, so everything that might be necessary had to be near at hand. Since the human potion wasn't ready until today, that was where the book containing it must still be. And if his reasoning earlier had been correct, then that was also where he would find how to turn himself back into a cat.
He assumed the book he wanted would be the top one, but of course now it wasn't easy to tell which one that was. He had to look at each. Unused as he was to reading, this was a serious task in itself. "Herbal remedies." Well, in a certain sense... but no. "Twenty quick potions." No, that definitely wasn't quick. "Transformation and shapeshifting"; that must be it.
He left the others on the ground and crawled into another corner to see if there was a section on cats. Time to get used to reading alone.
 
Salem left the house, and ventured out into the wild. He still had a few potions with him, so if he ever was to run into someone who had ill intent, he could simply intend hard on them. It was fairly early in the night, so plenty of squirrels or birds, or possibly a deer or two. Salem knew that it wasn't mating season, so there wouldn't be any baby deer that would be hunted. If it was one thing that Salem vowed he would never do, it was kill an infant animal.

Salem didn't like killing them as it was, but he used every part of the animal. Even the bones, he used for potions and the skulls he kept on a shelf. The rack, he would sometimes put back into the wild, so that way the hunters in the village knew that there were plenty to be hunted, for food or just for sport. The witch carefully took each step with precaution, and scanned his surroundings. He wanted to atleast get a few squirrels and a bird- possibly a crow. Salem sighed mentally, and proceeded to walk in still silence.
 
As luck would have it, there was indeed a section in the book for turning into a cat. It took long to find it, and it seemed an almost impossible venture to read it in one sitting, but Belphegor tried nevertheless. By the time he got to the end of the chapter - after several hours, as far as he could judge -, the lines were running together in front of his eyes. He knew very well that he was about to fall asleep sitting.
Well, in that case he must not sit, because he must not sleep. He took the book to the potion stand and switched it for the one about levitation; he quickly closed that one, it hurt to even look at it. The potion he had made was still there also; he grabbed the vessel and was about to pour it out the window, but then he remembered that his original intention had been that if it turns out well, Salem also taste it. And so he couldn't bring himself to. He just put it down on the floor beside the table, to make space. And now what did the book say he needed?
 
By the time Belphegor had read through that chapter, Salem had caught himself a good amount of food. Three squirrels for a very nice supper the next day, and some wild berries for some sauce. Salem was walking back, holding the prizes by their tails. He was thinking about how he was to make it. Marinate them in the wild berries? Let them sit in the pot, and boil it? Oh, it made Salem's mouth water just to think of it.

Salem walked through the back entrance, near the kitchen. When his mother had made the house, she was always one to have an exit for an exit. Meaning, there was plenty of ways to get out of the small shack, if something were to go wrong. Salem was going to put the three squirrels with the other animals that he was to cook. A pheasant that he captured for his feathers, and a hare that he was to use to get his foot. He wasn't one to waste any animal, so he would just make a banquet with the animals.

Salem walked from the kitchen, into the potions room. Salem was slightly confused when he saw the potion pot on the floor, and he saw Belphegor reading through a book. Huh, that wasn't the book he assigned him. Salem put the game away, and walked toward the book and him. " What's this? " Salem asked, as he looked from the book to his friend, and back to the book. As soon as he saw what the title of the chapter was, he put two and two together. Salem frowned, and looked at Belphegor. " Why didn't you say something? "
 
Belphegor bit his lip and turned his head to avoid his friend's eyes. Now that his intentions were revealed, he felt he had to explain why... no, he wanted to explain why. He wanted to say how it felt, how he felt. But how? How does one going about explaining how he feels? How would he of all people do that when he can barely talk? And maybe he never will. That sent a sudden pain through his heart, and he felt even more surely that he had to tell now, but at the same time he felt even more paralyzed. He gathered all of the little energy he had left and spoke again, the longest sentence he'd ever uttered so far.
"I want to tell..." he said, turning back towards him, raising his eyes to Salem's with a plaintive look, "but how?..."
 
Salem looked to his friend- his only friend, and then back to the book. " You don't have to. " Salem sighed in defeat. He had thought that having Belphegor as a human would be so much better- so much funner, but that wasn't the case now. " I know how you feel. " That was an obvious lie. He couldn't get into his head and feel his feelings, or read his thoughts. " I'll... I'll make the potion for you. I don't want you to hurt yourself, alright? We can- " He stopped, and shook his head. " I'll start tomorrow. But now, just.. Go to bed. It's late, and we have so much to do. "

The was probably another lie. Salem took Belphegor, and silently led him to his bed. Salem could sleep in the rocking chair tonight.
 
Belphegor had no strength left to protest. He knew this wasn't all right, nothing was, he had to talk... but it was so much easier to give up, and he was so tired. He curled into a little ball on the bed and quietly wished to never wake up again.
Yet, despite his exhaustion, for the first time in his life sleep didn't come. It was the only refuge he knew, and it deserted him when he needed it the most. He didn't know how long he lay there, neither quite awake, nor asleep, listening to the sound of his own breathing. He came to the conclusion that it was bothering him. It wouldn't let him sleep. There was a word for what he was thinking about, but he had had no occasion to learn about that, and maybe that was for the better.
Finally he got up, pulling the covers with him. The night was cold. He tried to walk quietly, so as to not wake Salem. He might be worried if he wakes up; he might think he'd left. But he didn't want to leave, he just wanted to be outside for a while. He pushed the door open quietly and sat down on the stairs.
Where the forest opened a little bit around the house, he could look up into the sky. It didn't look like rain anymore. And it was so clear. So cold. So beautiful.
 
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