A Game We Used to Play - The Owl House Fanfic
Summary: Young Philip Wittebane and his brother on a Witch Hunt.
A very short idea inspired by the thought,"Hey, wouldn't this have some fucked up implications for the present day story if this was a thing?"
***
“Shhh, do you hear that?” Caleb whispered, holding his arm out to stop his little brother.
“Hear what?” breathed Philip, frozen in place.
“It’s the Head Witch’s siren song.”
“Head Witch?” Philip gasped, eyes widening. He gripped the large stick that his brother had tossed him tight against his chest.
“Ay,” answered Caleb, solemnly. He creeped forward slowly, and with a flourish cupped his hand to his ear. “A Head Witch in charge of a foul coven of witches.”
“A whole coven?” Philip asked, excitement coursing through him. Caleb turned back towards him, Philip saw his favorite glint in his brother’s eye – he knew his brother had something excellent planned. “Will we find a whole coven, Caleb?”
“A few members, at least,” he replied, crouching to the ground and drawing a diagram in the dirt with his own stick. “But if we take the Head Witch, we weaken them all.”
“I’m ready to destroy the entire coven of witches!” cried Philip, brandishing his stick like a sword and slashing through the air.
Caleb smiled warmly at his little brother. “Slow yourself, Philip. You are still training, after all.”
“I do not need to train.”
“Do not let pride get in the way. When fighting dangerous witches, you must be cunning. They are the sworn enemy of mankind for a reason – they will trick you and tempt you in order to destroy you,” Caleb warned, pacing the small clearing in the woods the two boys occupied. Being a few years older, Caleb reveled in playing the sage mentor. “Now – resist the siren song of the Head Witch. They are trying to lure you into behaving foolishly with their musical spell.”
“I hear no such thing!”
“You need to be more diligent, Philip,” said Caleb, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Their song is purposefully soft – softer than the whispers between raindrops – you must listen carefully, lest you fall victim to their treachery.” Caleb’s fingers playfully danced through the air, and Phillip stared at him, breathing in every word. “If you cannot hear their song, you cannot resist their magic.”
Philip paused, trying to hold his hand to his ear like his brother did before him. “I think I hear something,” he fibbed.
“Excellent. Now follow me,” Caleb called, running deeper into the woods. Philip laughed as he pursued his brother, who dashed between the trees and ducked behind them to hide before running the opposite way, luring Philip to chase him further and further. The game was on, and witches or no, Philip was going to conquer alongside his brother. Even if all they conquered was a few feet of forest.
Caleb came to a full stop a few feet ahead before turning and gesturing to his brother to divert course. The two boys took cover behind some large bushes.
“Is it the Head Witch?” Philip whispered. Caleb simply nodded and put a finger to his lips. While his brother tried to peer above the tops of the bushes, Philip tried to position himself to look through them. “Where are they, Caleb?”
“A few dozen yards up ahead,” whispered Caleb, turning his gaze back down to his brother, brow furrowed. “Now listen carefully to my orders, Philip, so that we can take them by surprise and – “
“I already have an idea!” interrupted Philip, whose eyes had caught a large tree a little ahead of them that he knew he could easily climb.
“Shhh, wait! There’s too much you still do not—”
“But I can just – “
“You will not interrupt your commanding officer.”
Philip became visibly frustrated. “Commanding officer?”
Caleb tilted his chin defiantly. “Yes, as the Witch Hunter General in charge of this assault—"
“Why am I never the Witch Hunter General?” Philip whined.
“Because I am the eldest, and therefore in charge of you,” Caleb replied, now dropping the stealth act entirely.
“I want to be in charge. I want to be the ruthless General like you.”
“But Philip! You too are an essential figure in this battle – you are my right-hand man, my ever-faithful Golden Guard!”
“I don’t want to be the Golden Guard.”
Caleb gasped, hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “You don’t? Maybe I should command you to complete a dangerous quest, to force you to prove your fealty to your brother!” he cried, pointing his mock-weapon into the face of the younger boy.
The child didn’t even flinch. “I think I should get to be the Witch Hunter General this time, while you stand as my Golden Guard.”
Caleb laughed. “Perhaps someday.” His grin became mischievous as he got on one knee in front of Philip. “Perhaps when you are eldest,” he teased, poking the tip of his little brother’s nose.
Philip pouted. “Impossible. I don’t think that’s funny.”
“Perhaps when you’re a man, then,” answered Caleb, softer now, as he tucked some loose hair out of Philip’s eyes. Philip’s pout lessened. “But first we must continue our training.” He rose, holding his stick aloft. “We must show these witches we will not succumb to their evil! Shall we join the hunt?”
“Rah!” cried Philip, grinning again, chasing after his brother who once more darted through the woods. He ran as fast as his little legs would carry him, but his brother ran faster. He was desperate to catch up. He ran with all his might as his chest began to ache, the steady rhythm of his panting abruptly ending as he tripped over a vine, collapsing face-first into the dirt.
“Philip?”
Caleb was by his side in a flash, propping him up off the ground and inspecting his chin, his hands, his knees. “Are you hurt, Philip?”
Philip could only sniffle and nod.
“Come on, it’s time we go in,” Caleb said, hoisting his little brother into his arms and marching back towards home.
“But the Head Witch!” moaned Philip.
Caleb shushed his little brother, running a hand through the hairs on the nape of his neck. “We’ll do battle with the witches next time, my Fearsome Little Hunter."
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