TW!/ Mentions of burning, mild injury description, mild violence
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The hot orange glow of torches made its way through Foolish's window, its light casting a warm glow. He looked up from his book, his emerald eyes contrasting the embers. Muffled shouting was heard, with some words involving "fire" and "monster".

Today was the day where the townspeople were to burn a being. This was the 1580s, which involves -you know it- witch hunts.

They described the being to have pure white glowing eyes reckoned to be a witch and was to be burnt at stake.

Foolish will be lying if he said that he had not encountered mythical beings. In fact, as a totem demigod, he was one himself, and the news greatly intrigued him. He slipped on a dark hood, covering his golden skin.

The scene he arrived upon was chaos. The thin figure, tied to a cross, had their head bowed, their strands of brown curls covering their face, but a glint of white shone through. Their clothes hang loosely, and their back was covered in what looked like whip marks.

Foolish had been here for a long while. He had seen kingdoms rise and fall, their knights brave and skilled, the tyrants rich and greedy, the tales rich with history. Although he never met him in person, he knew that the claimed witch was definitely of relation to the mysterious, powerful being, known as Herobrine.

"After months of hunting, we have finally found a witch," the chief of the village began. "This is to show what happens to unholy, wicked beings." He lifted up a jug of hot oil and the stream of golden liquid streamed down the subject's back. Their screams filled the air, and Foolish winced slightly at the sight.

And he decided to help them.

Crazy thought, right? However, being immortal is hard. Everything you love withers away, from simple meadow flowers to the ones around you. What he desires is someone who can stay- another immortal being. And he senses something from them- a sense of genuine purity- not the evil being they described.

However, before he could react, the chief dropped a torch on them.

Fire, the warm companion and light giver, but yet wicked. The bright orange grew like vines, creeping over their back, engulfing the figure in light. Even from his spot behind the crowd some distance away, he could feel the hotness of the red beast. The screaming intensifies, but that was not what truly triggered Foolish.

It was the satisfied smirk on the people's faces.

The chuckles of satisfaction -almost of enjoyment- for hurting someone they didn't even give a chance to? Hell no.

Zaps of electricity danced between his fingers as his red eyes glowed bright like the flames. Emotions washed over him -but not just emotions- rainwater, pouring down like an ocean, drowning everyone. Lighting soon began to strike, and winds blew strong and mighty until Foolish had to hold on to his hood to avoid being exposed. Hurricanes blew by and the flames quickly extinguished. The people sped off for cover, leaving the figure and Foolish alone in the rain, drenched.

Foolish quickly made his way towards the figure and untied him. They were already unconscious and their vitals were weak, their skin snow-cold and their pulse barely felt. Foolish pulled out cloths and medications, getting to work.

He gently removed their clothing, and streaks of injuries littered the figure's back, with trails of golden blood pouring down at a slow yet steady rate. Their skin sagged over their ribs, every arch seen.

The powdered herbs on wet cloth, the long trails of injuries, and after hours, their injuries were patched up, and they were soundly asleep in a separate room. 
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A/N One of my first fanfictions written like this, sorry that this is so short. Drop your thoughts pls, and drop any ideas you have for any upcoming chapters too!

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