Something's off.
Well—not off, but wrong.
Something's wrong.

Does Hester know what? Of course not.

Hester could practically feel Alexander's curse—well of course he couldn't actually feel it, but he could sense something that felt suspiciously like magic, otherworldly, something that shouldn't be trifled with. He could hear Alexander or more accurately not hear Alexander, he wasn't mumbling—which alone was worrying, why was he no longer talking to... Who was he talking to anyway? Himself?

Hester tried to turned his attention to something else and distract himself, he couldn't do anything to help

Alexander said so himself.

"You can't help, go away. Just go upstairs. Please."

Hester couldn't find anything to do, his mind continuously and stubbornly drifting back to Alexander, Wilbur was already asleep Hester had put him to bed after going inside—Wilbur for being a child was very energetic in the way of waking up early and going to bed late—not because he was hard to put to bed just from Hester waking up early and going to bed late as well. At least he knew how to take care of one kid—wait no, Alexander's not my kid, just a kid, a random cursed traumatized kid who lives in the mountains. (Who I happen to occasionally take care of sometimes.)

He didn't want to wake Wilbur and tried to find something quiet to do, that wouldn't have to do with the downstairs floor or Alexander. After a few moments of walking around aimlessly—he resorted to lying down ear pressed to the floor trying to hear Alexander, nothing, Hester was getting more worried now—he had never seen him like this before.

Alexander was so calm, monotone—emotionless in a way, he was never afraid, never mad, never anything other than tired. It was like he wore a mask with the way the features on his face didn't contort into something different, the only way he could really tell how Alexander was feeling was, by asking him—and he tried and failed to do that exact thing, Alexander just snapping at him.

Hester reluctantly got up from his spot on the floor—he couldn't even hear Alexander walking, or breathing for that matter. If Alexander wasn't going to tell Hester what was going on he would have to find out on his own—it could be dangerous—to Alexander or Wilbur, Hester begrudgingly had to pry into something he was most certainly sure he was going to regret later and began to walk over to the rickety ladder—instead of going down to Alexander however he climbed up, to Alexander's bedroom and small library—he doesn't think Alexander was trying to make his room basically be a library with a bed in it but it would have been a more accurate way of describing it.

Swinging open the trapdoor and inching up trying not to hit anything with his wings that barely fit though to begin with and began walking over to the end with the bookshelf embedded into the wall, weaving through stacks of books tomes and scrolls, some books were so piled they brushed the ceiling however Hester—as a normal size person—almost touch the ceiling as well so he supposed it was understandable the way everything was haphazardly stacked and placed. Bumping into a tower of books that very nearly fell, Hester started to scan the books that somehow managed to find a home in the actual bookshelf itself.

Hester put up a hand and started to trace the names of the books as he walked, letting his hand feel all the bumps and ridges—until he found the one he was looking for.

The Complete Collection Of The Unforgivable Curses.
By Lily Allen

He turned quickly and easily found the page he was looking for, a page with very little text and a drawing that took up half the page. The drawing being of a person standing surrounded by monsters and corpses. He walked close to the small window by the edge and started to read by the moonlight.

"This curse is simply known as 'the voices' where the victim is forced to have these people in their head. The voices seem to have different personalities depending on the person as of today we still are unaware of most symptoms or causes. However the severity seems to change rapidly from it being manageable to disturbing and unpredictable it being one of the most rare and unique of most curses from it's individuality of most having more personal symptoms then one long list, it being more of a trait then a curse, however the people with this do not seem to live long as the noises seem to put the carrier in distress the oldest person to have this carried that was diagnosed was ten years and three months of age. There seems to be no cure or treatment to prevent the death or the carrier from experiencing these outbursts of stress. Most notably the carrier was known for being quite lethal as of the curse or just the patient's behavior we are unaware of."

Hester had to put the book down to breath.

He felt sick. He then shifted closer to the window and continued on the next paragraph.

"The most we know is the patient seems to be more of a host to their curse as all have been born with it or supposedly cursed as a child from a very young age, the patient does not have any recollection of them not being there. It does not seem transmittable by any means that we can find, being close too, touch, or hearing, does not affect someone who does not have it. There is no way to stop the curse's symptoms, it seems to change depending on the carrier's environment and emotional state they are in."

Hester closed the book, slightly frustrated trying to think of what to do next with the words ``of the emotional state the carrier is in." Bounced around in his head, maybe that could help? Maybe Alexander was stressed about something. Hester had never been known as someone to come for comfort—quite the opposite actually—however they was a lot of things Hester had to be for Wilbur, luckily comfort was one he haven't needed to use yet but it was going to happen eventually, Wilbur or Alexander, it was inevitable someone was going to need some sort of help.

Signing, he descended the ladder and tiredly boiled a pot of water, hoping that wouldn't wake Wilbur or tick off Alexander—he was sort of living in the man's house after all. The water splashed and sputtered as Hester carefully began making tea, putting leaves and honey in. His mind still spinning as to what he was meant to do in this bizarre situation, he came up empty-handed as he poured the hot tea into two wooden mugs—tea helped Hester calm down, hopefully it would for Alexander.

He precariously avoided all of Alexander's warnings and dissented the ladder to the small basement, he held the two mugs close to his chest which burned slightly leaving a small red mark on his skin as he turned around to see Alexander still squished in between the big onion shaped oven and the wall of the ingredients cabinet, if Hester didn't know Alexander was there he wouldn't have looked twice. Alexander was tall but could surprisingly shrink himself down—Hester wished he could do that, his wings making it impossible—he cautiously stepped forward.

"Alexander?"

Alexander didn't move, unless you counted him trying to push himself farther into the wall, he made a noise that was unmistakably akin to a growl Hester stopped for a moment slightly worried, Hester thought he might have fallen asleep when he was gone. but Alexander's shoulders were tense and his head hung low, his breathing was hitched and sputtered. He was definitely awake which was the least comforting thing Hester had ever heard.

Hester moved closer quietly keeping an arm length distance away and placed the hot tea down next to Alexander's feet, he didn't really know what he was expecting, but unsurprisingly Alexander didn't move, didn't even acknowledge him in the slightest. Hester held his mug close to himself as he sat across from Alexander practically the other side of the room, keeping close to the ladder and door just in case.

It might have been pushing it to stay too long, but he didn't want to leave Alexander to deal with whatever this was alone, he'd move if it bothered him too much. Alexander was less social than Hester was, maybe he was making things worse by being close—Hester nevertheless stayed.

Alexander's head turned ever-so-slightly up, Hester could only make out one eye staring idly at something behind him, then Alexander tensed as if something like a threat was behind him. Hester snapped his head behind him—nothing—he turned back to Alexander, seeming to become more erratic, but still not making eye contact or moving.

Hester half glanced back and looked closer this time he stood up looked back, Alexander was looking at something on the table Hester looked at the table—nothing—ok well not nothing, just nothing important, books, jars, bottles, plants, ink pots, pens, loose pieces of paper there was nothing—oh.

A small shine caught Hester's eyes, shears, but not just shears any normal person wouldn't understand—but he did, a weapon, Hester thought, he's scanning the room for weapons.

Hester did it absently, walking into a room, where's the closest exit? Where's the strongest weapon? It was something he did without thinking—it just became normal.

Hester slowly hovering his hand over so Alexander could see clearly what he was doing, he gingerly picked up the shears and opened the closest drawer Hester could find, he placed it in one of the cupboards embedded in the wall.

Hester turned back, Alexander still hiding himself from the world but seemed more comfortable—if that were even possible under all this stress, but kept his head in his chest. He felt threatened, but now there was only one real option, escape, and Hester blocked that.

He stepped forward and sat down wings tightly to his back with his hands on his knees as he looked around the room—not really paying any attention but thought it would be best if he didn't comment on Alexander's current state and instead looked anywhere other than in front of him.

The spanning silence was Earth shattering loud as Hester waited for his tea to cool, he traced the stone brick floor with his empty hand until he decided to try and say something, Wilbur liked hearing stories maybe Alexander would too—of course Alexander and Wilbur were two completely different people, but still it was worth a shot.

"A long time ago,"

The silence broke into a million pieces Hester continued unfazed by how loud his voice seemed.

"I met Lady Death."

It was commonly known that you could see the Goddess of Death by being in a life or death situation, (hence the name) however most only ever see her when they were saying goodbye to a loved one, Death would come down to take them to the afterlife—Hester remembers Death saying how they are other people that helped her take care of the souls as well, however she never said who, Hester continued weaving the tale, trying to remember every little detail of that fateful night.

"I was angry with my family, about something—I think I read in an astronomy book, I kept asking questions about the stars. Basic questions like 'what are they?' 'Why are they there?' 'What do they do?' stuff like that. They got really tick off at me and one of my cousins locked me out of the house."

Hester continued as Alexander took a shaky breath in. Hester did the same; he had never told someone something so personal before.

"I remember being so angry at them."

Hester said bitterly, he held his mug tighter. Thinking about the memory still left his mouth dry and chest burning with the same unkempt wild anger from so long ago, it never truly stopped burning.

"So I flew away, I wanted to see the stars so that's where I went. I flew straight up trying to touch one."

Hester smiled at how foolish it sounded.

"I flew past the clouds, where the sky met the Earth—I flew so high that the air began to thin. I started to feel dizzy. I didn't know which way was up or down. Then I saw the moon beaming at me like a spotlight. I looked around but other than that it was so dark like I was trapped in the void but it was so blindingly bright that I had to close my eyes to stop them from hurting."

Alexander shifted slightly, still keeping his head low and grasping at the hem of his shirt, Hester still couldn't see his eyes, Hester drank some of his tea and continued.

"I thought I was drowning, for how high I went the world slowed down. There were no stars when I opened my eyes again, I thought that maybe I was too high, maybe I went past them."

Hester chuckled softly remembering what happened next.

"Then I hit something—I think—I knocked myself out maybe, but when I woke up I was standing on top of the air. I looked around a-and then I saw it."

Hester's mouth became dry, his stomach tightening in a knot, at the memory, a bittersweet nostalgia, the aching feeling in his chest grew blatantly obvious, from his time away from her—like having tea that was nice and warm as you drank it but after it became bitter as it stayed burning your tongue and stomach.

"I saw the stars—but there was something else, something more, a woman, Lady Death. She was the most beautiful person I've ever seen, the stars twinkle above us and together the whole universe smiled."

Hester felt the side of his eyes sting, he drank more tea to try and hide them, the steam only made it worse.

"Then I fell,"

Hester says.

"And as the wind rushed past me, all I could see was her, she laughed—but I don't think at me, I still don't know why she was, but after I woke up on the roof of my family's house."

Hester looked up to see Alexander tilting his head ever-so-slightly up Hester could just barely make out his eyes, they sparkled with a childlike awe in them Hester had never seen before, his eyes wide with confusion and wonder alike. Hester shifted closer to him so the two now sit next to one another.

"Do you miss her?"

Alexander asked, muffled by him curling in on himself, but still couldn't put the question off any longer.

"Everyday," Hester says calmly, "But, I know I can't see her again, and that's ok."

"I bet she misses you too." Alexander says sleepily.

"Rest easy," Hester says, smiling gently, holding Alexander close to him. "I'll be here when you wake."

And for the first time, in a very, very, long time

Alexander relaxed.

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Art by rexmin203 on Deviantart
Does anyone else love stories in stories? Maybe just me, lol but who doesn't love some good hard-world building? If anyone's wondering I didn't try to make Hester a simp but he really sounds like one in this chapter. (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)
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