The Hunchback

by Regine Abel

  “Her power has grown since her arrival in Paris,” Frollo intervened, sparing me from answering. “Just like mine. As I mentioned to you earlier, High Seraph, she has steadily been enhancing me.”

  The Praetor let the words hang between us, his implied meaning loud and clear for all. Under different circumstances, I’d have swiftly set the record straight. However, this served as a good enough explanation which also let me off the hook. I wanted to believe his interference had not just been motivated by self-preservation or possessiveness towards me, but out of protectiveness for Kwazeem. I still didn’t fully understand the dynamic between them, but a part of me wanted to believe he cared.

  But then why has he still not gone to check on him?

  “I see,” Phoebus said, his wings shifting with what I assumed to be annoyance. “I wanted to tempt you into letting me give you a personal tour of Elysium after the feast. Should I understand that such an offer would not be positively received due to prior engagements?”

  His meaningful glance towards Frollo spoke volumes. I licked my lips nervously and shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

  “No one in their right mind would refuse a guided tour of Elysium, especially one given by the High Seraph himself,” I said, carefully choosing my words.

  “But?” Phoebus insisted, his glowing eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

  I smiled and tucked a strand of my long, curly hair behind my ear. “But, I would humbly request a different time than tonight. Praetor Frollo will shortly depart for his tour of the peripheral cities for the Orb Ceremonies. Once he does, I was hoping to call it an early night. This week, preparing for the Festival has been intense and, despite the regenerative effects of your aura, tonight’s performance has drained me,” I said with an apologetic expression.

  Phoebus’s expression softened, laced with a tinge of guilt. “Of course,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “How insensitive of me not to have anticipated it. Your performance has so mesmerized all of us, we’ve stopped thinking clearly. I will escort you back to the temple right away, if you wish.”

  “Oh, that is not necessary,” I said, trying to hide my joy at having been freed at last while sparing everyone’s sensibilities.

  “Indeed,” Frollo echoed. “As Esmeralda’s host, it is my duty to see to her comfort, which I’m ashamed to admit I’ve neglected in this instance.”

  “As ruler of the First Circle, I am her host as well,” Seraph said, his gaze slightly hardened.

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes, having no patience for their little pissing contest. However, this time, I wished Frollo would escort me back so that he could seize the opportunity to look in on Kwazeem.

  “Furthermore,” Phoebus continued in a taunting voice before Frollo could respond, “your dignitaries are getting antsy. Some of their cities are hungry for those replenished Relays.”

  Frollo cast a swift glance at the dignitaries sitting further down on each side of the table. They were indeed stealing furtive glances at him, looking mightily eager to make eye contact with him.

  “I guess I might as well head out then,” Frollo replied with a slightly clipped tone before rising to his feet. He looked briefly towards the temple, anger fleeting over his handsome features as he no doubt thought of Kwazeem. Turning back to me, he stared at me with an unreadable expression. “You have blessed our city this night. On behalf of our citizens and of the peripheral cities, please accept my sincere gratitude. I had wished to present you to our constituents for these Orbs Ceremonies, but I hope it might happen next time. Rest well, Esmeralda, and I will see you on the morning after next.”

  With the same disturbing familiarity he had demonstrated before, Frollo took my hand, lifted before him, and kissed my knuckles. I responded with a strained smile but didn’t miss how Phoebus stiffened at this inappropriate behavior which implied a greater degree of intimacy between us than truly existed. Not wanting to make a scene with so many people around us, I pinched my lips and kept quiet again as he turned around to leave.

  “Wait!” I shouted after Frollo, suddenly remembering something. “Will you not see to Kwazeem first?”

  I winced and mentally kicked myself at the same time his name left my lips. Frollo barely managed to hide his shock. Despite him schooling his features, I’d grown to know him enough since my arrival to recognize the seething anger boiling inside of him. While I didn’t fear for myself—he didn’t own or control me—I worried he might punish Kwazeem for having disobeyed his orders not to speak with me. Frollo had never mentioned Kwazeem’s name in my presence. There was only one way I could know it.

  “My gardener has broken every single one of our agreements,” Frollo said between his teeth. “I will deal with him upon my return. In the meantime, he can reap what he sowed.”

  “But—”

  “I will not discuss this further. Please, do not meddle in my affairs,” he interrupted me before I could plead on Kwazeem’s behalf.

  Without another word, the Praetor turned on his heel and marched towards the dignitaries. They closed in around him like a famished flock of vultures, impatient to bring the Light of Vesta to their respective constituents.

  Anger and resentment burned within me that Frollo should so callously deny Kwazeem the assistance he needed. How could he not understand the need for freedom, the thirst to be part of something greater rather than be trapped in eternal isolation? How could he punish him for just wanting to live a little?

  Phoebus’s intense gaze on me forced me to rein in my emotions. The High Seraph was far too perceptive. To my relief, he didn’t question me about that last exchange. I would have hated to be forced to lie to him.

  “Shall I take you to your quarters then?” Phoebus asked, his expression unreadable.

  “Yes, please.”

  To my shock, instead of walking by my side the short distance to the temple, Phoebus wrapped his strong arms around me and pressed me against him. With a powerful flap of his wings, he took flight. My hands instinctively clasped behind his neck. His glowing eyes bore into mine as we slowly rose above the plaza. I could barely breathe, not out of fear he would drop me, but intimidated by his intensity. Once more, Phoebus’s breathtaking beauty struck me, with silky golden hair falling to his shoulders, pale blue eyes, a straight, noble nose, and a square jaw. And yet, even with the tingling in my skin provoked by his divine aura, he didn’t stir me the way Kwazeem did.

  “You have awakened within me emotions no other female ever has,” Phoebus said with his deep, purring voice that washed over me like a lover’s caress. “In all my years as High Seraph, I’ve never met a Vestal—or any other woman for that matter—who has remained so indifferent to my presence. It is humbling and, in this specific instance, also heartbreaking because you call to me as only a mate would.”

  My heart constricted at the candor of his words. “You honor me beyond words, High Seraph.”

  He snorted sadly. “And yet, you do not wish to become my consort.”

  He’d spoken those words matter-of-factly, without condemnation or bitterness, merely a sad acceptance. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, looking in vain for an appropriate, but gentle response.

  “Tell me,” Phoebus continued, “and please be honest. Do I displease you? Do I leave you indifferent? Or is there another?”

  I licked my lips nervously as we hovered near the balcony to my room. “Every young woman on Obscura dreams of meeting the High Seraph Phoebus. Like them, I, too, hoped for the tremendous honor to find enough grace in your eyes that you would wish for me as your life companion. You are, in the flesh, beyond even the wildest of my imaginings. You have surpassed all of my expectations.”

  Phoebus’s arms ever so slightly tightened around me, pressing me further against his muscular body. His face drew closer to mine and, for a moment, I feared he would kiss me. But he merely continued to examine my features as if they held the key to a great secret.

  “And yet, you will not have me,” he said at l
ast, looking pensive. “What manner of man managed to snag your heart before I could?”

  “A good man who got dealt a terrible hand.”

  He nodded slowly then effortlessly landed onto my balcony. The High Seraph held me in his arms for a few more seconds before releasing me with obvious reluctance.

  “Thank you for the ride,” I said, feeling awkward.

  He didn’t respond, content to stare at me a while longer. After a beat, Phoebus lifted his left arm in front of him and removed what I’d thought to merely be a gem adornment on the golden armband he wore.

  “This may serve as a com system or GPS tracker,” Phoebus said, holding the device in front of my face. “Should you ever need me, if you are lost, or in the unlikely event you realize what a perfect partner I would be for you, press and hold here for a couple of seconds, and I will hurry to your side.”

  My throat tightened at such kindness. I once more looked up at him, so tall and massive, with his divine face and majestic wings framing him. To think this delightful male—this god—could be mine and could make me nearly immortal. But my heart lay elsewhere.

  “Thank you, High Seraph. You are the kindest of males.”

  He snorted derisively. “No, beautiful Esmeralda. What I am is jealous of a man I don’t even know. Another first for me. You are crushing my ego. And please, call me Phoebus.”

  I chuckled and gave him a sheepish look. But my smile quickly faded at the hungry, predatory look he gave me. With lightning speed, Phoebus cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine. Although the gesture startled me, it didn’t scare me. Despite the underlying desire I could feel raging beneath, the kiss was almost chaste and definitely controlled. It ended seconds after it started. Phoebus straightened and caressed my lips with two knuckles, a sad look on his face.

  Then spreading his four wings, he took flight without another word. His imposing silhouette circled around the plaza. The other Elohim jumped from the perches they had returned to after the feast, and circled the plaza one more time with him. They then rose high into the night sky towards the glowing city of Elysium. As they turned into tiny dots in the distance, the Grand Magistrate’s barge, a large, boomerang-shaped vessel, took flight carrying Frollo and the dignitaries.

  Discarding my flashy ceremonial outfit, I jumped into the shower to wash away the sweat of the Festival’s dance. I also hoped that the time it took me to cleanse myself and change would have convinced whatever guard might be spying on me that I had indeed gone to bed like a good girl.

  Once dressed in a dark sarong wrapped as a halter dress, I rushed to the lift, flew it down to the ground floor, and then snuck into the backyard through one of the back exits. The beam of the Well’s tower lit the area far too much for my liking. Thankfully, the population was too busy dancing and singing to pay attention to me lurking in the shadows. I ran through the garden to the secret passage leading to Kwazeem’s house. Finding the cabin plunged in darkness had my anxiety cranking up a notch. I raced to his front door and knocked before turning the knob. Although relieved to find it unlocked, it also greatly disturbed me.

  “Kwazeem?” I called out while closing the door behind me. The desolate chirping of an imp startled me. “Victus?” I half-shouted, rushing down the hallway in the direction it had emanated from.

  The bedroom stood wide open, giving me a glimpse of a male form sprawled on his stomach on top of his bed. Despite the darkness, enough light trickled in through the window for me to recognize Kwazeem still wearing his costume. Anger surged through me that the guard had so rudely—if not cruelly—tossed him on the bed without taking a moment to check his condition, or if he was in distress.

  I instinctively ran my hand over a glowstone at the entrance of the room, which immediately lit up the whole space. Victus and Lazarus, perched on each of Kwazeem’s shoulders, appeared to have sunk their claws into him, a distraught expression on their small faces. Their glowing eyes and the energy swirling in the room indicated they were using their limited magic on him, probably to heal or appease.

  “Oh, Kwazeem,” I whispered, my heart aching for him.

  Victus chirped at me, his big eyes staring at me pleadingly as I kneeled on the bed by my man. The muffled sound of tortured moans reached me through his mask. At first, the difficulty in removing it baffled me. It was as though the mask had been taped to his face. But when I finally managed to rid him of it, shock and fear washed over me.

  Kwazeem’s face was beyond swollen and covered in purplish blotches. Had he not previously explained to me the symptoms of his condition, I would have believed without hesitation that the guards who had escorted him here had beaten him to a pulp for disobeying.

  “You can’t stay like this for two days,” I whispered to myself, before raising my voice. “Kwazeem, can you hear me? It’s me, Mera. I’m right here. I want to help you. What can I do to help you?”

  His eyelids fluttered, but his puffy eyelids prevented him from opening them. “F… Fr…” he stuttered, unable to form the word.

  “Frollo?” I asked. “He’s gone on the Orbs tour, my darling. He won’t be back for two days.”

  Tears gathered in my eyes seeing his battered face take on an even more tortured expression, his hands fisting the bedding as he realized how long he would be subjected to this agony. Kwazeem didn’t need me to tell him Frollo was deliberately punishing him.

  “Maybe I can do what he does for you?” I offered. “Just tell me what to do, and I will.”

  But even as I spoke those words, I could see that he wouldn’t be able to give me coherent instructions in his current state. Victus chirped, drawing my attention to him then pointing at Kwazeem’s hump.

  “Do you know what to do?” I asked the imp against hope.

  He gave me a sharp nod of the head, then performed all kinds of gestures in his sign language that I didn’t understand. Scrunching his face in frustration, he pointed at the hump again. Although I didn’t quite know what to do, I remembered Kwazeem mentioning a liquid accumulating in his back. I needed to drain it out.

  Even drowning in debilitating pain, my man tried to resist when I removed the costume’s cloak and deactivated the holographic suit he had on. Instead of the flowy shirts he usually wore in my presence, a skin-tight, black t-shirt molded his muscular body and the sizeable hump on his back. When I lifted the hem to expose his back, Kwazeem became extremely agitated, groaning in protest through his moans of pain.

  “Stop it, you silly man!” I said in a stern voice. “You have nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed of. You are my man, and in my eyes, you are the most beautiful male I have ever laid eyes upon, hump included. The High Seraph himself asked me to be his consort tonight, but all I could see was you. So, cut it out. I will not let you pointlessly suffer.”

  A strange expression I couldn’t define settled on his face still scrunched in pain. A single tear slipped down his cheek while his hand blindly reached for me. I took it, and he squeezed mine hard enough to hurt. The shadow of a trembling smile stretched his lips for a second before he winced in pain.

  My poor love.

  Leaning forward, I kissed the tear on his cheek, then brushed my lips against his.

  “Let me take care of you, my love,” I whispered, caressing his hair. “Whatever the future holds, we’ll face it together, you and me. But you have to let me in.”

  Kwazeem stopped fretting, the same powerful emotion crossing his features as he squeezed my hand again, this time in concession. Removing my hand from his grasp with much reluctance, I went back to lifting his shirt above his hump. My jaw dropped, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight it revealed.

  Unlike the humps I’d seen in my research, Kwazeem’s wasn’t smooth skin on each side of his deformed spine. It was lumpy and glowed as if a constellation had been trapped beneath the skin. I couldn’t even see the vertebrae of his spine past the small of his back where his hump began. But right there, at its very base, a large lump glowed like a midnight sun. Whateve
r Kwazeem’s condition was, this was no normal hump.

  Unable to resist, my palm reached for it. I gasped as a bolt of Divine Light exploded inside of me. Pleasure almost too unbearable to withstand coursed through me. My nipples hardened painfully, and moisture pooled between my thighs as my inner walls throbbed and contracted with need. My power surged deep within, rattling like a caged beast to pour out of me.

  Kwazeem’s cry of agony snapped me out of the near orgasmic state I was teetering in. Clawing at his bedding, he clumsily attempted to crawl away from me… from my touch.

  I’m hurting him!

  I yanked my hand away from him and stumbled a few steps back, horrified.

  “St… stop!” Kwazeem cried out. “P… Pow…”

  “My power!” I exclaimed, understanding finally dawning on me. “My power is hurting you!”

  Even as Kwazeem struggled to acquiesce, the imps frantically nodded their heads. I clamped down on my power, silencing my Divine Light. My man’s body immediately lost all tension, and he collapsed on the bed, shaking with pain, his feverish body drenched in sweat.

  “I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize,” I rambled, feeling horrible for having increased his suffering. “I see the lump you’ve been talking about. Where is the needle to drain it out?”

  Victus chirped and gestured wildly for me to follow him.

  “You know where to find it?” I asked. Victus nodded vigorously and gestured again for me to follow. I turned to Kwazeem, and caressed his hair. “Victus is going to show me where to get the needle, okay?” I whispered in his ear. “I will come back soon. Hang in there for me, my love. All right?”

  Kwazeem feebly nodded his head. Chest constricted, I kissed his lips and then his temple before hastening after Victus, while Lazarus resumed pushing his magic into my man. It didn’t take me long to realize the imp was taking me to Frollo’s lab. But as we approached its door on the third floor of the temple’s spire, I began to wonder how we would break into it. When we reached it, Victus gestured for me to stay put then flew away, down the balcony. As the seconds and then minutes ticked by, I grew increasingly worried that one of the Maidens or the guards would enter the temple and find me lurking outside Frollo’s lab.